
I have not read Andre Agassi's book. I am on a budget so I will wait until it comes out in paperback. But I have seen him on television talking to everyone from Larry King to Rick Reilly and have come to a couple of conclusions.
In nearly every interview, he says that there was a time in his life when he hated tennis. He admits to tanking matches and doing illegal drugs at the height of his career. He also said that the flowing golden locks that adorned his head early in his career was a wig. Image really is everything, I guess. What is compelling about the Agassi story, though, is that he comes off as a tortured kid forced kicking and screaming into the limelight.
When it comes to sports, the opposite of passion and love (the most overused word in English, by the way) is not hate. The opposite of love in sports is apathy. You don't win the career grand slam and have a hall-of-fame career if you are apathetic. That is why I want to read Agassi's book -- there had to be a time in his nearly 20 years of professional tennis where it was the most important thing in his life. I am guessing that he suffered a bit of the David Duval syndrome. David reached the height of his profession, grabbing the No. 1 spot in the world ranking, looked around and asked the question: "Is this all there is?"
I knew David before he became No. 1. I remember being at his house in Florida one afternoon. After a day spent on the practice range, he continued his offseason routine with a workout and I decided to join him. By the time David's workout was over I had long since finished mine, showered, had a snack and was on my third beer. And I was more than satisfied with the work that I had put in that day. I had been on TOUR for a few years and had found my own routine, but I discovered that day there were people like David whose entire existence was consumed with the art of becoming the best. And that existence comes with a price tag only guys like David and Andre know.
This week at the second stage of the PGA TOUR National Qualifying Tournament, there are kids playing who are more than willing to make that deal. The mindset of survival at q-school is one of kill or be killed. And this week even more so than at the finals. Make a successful trip through the second stage and a player gets into the system. Even the last-place finisher at the finals has a Nationwide Tour card the following year. Miss by a shot at the second stage and you have nothing.
There is a kid at one of the six second stage sites, maybe The Hombre in Panama City or Callaway Gardens in Georgia, who has sacrificed it all to become the best player in the world. Somewhere, at one of these stages, there is a kid who will take down Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson in a major one day. It is the nature of the beast.
While all this is going on David Duval will be at home with his family, trying to decide whether or not to attend the q-school finals. His finish in the 126-150 eligibility category off the money list assures David of conditional status next year on the PGA TOUR. His tie for second at the U.S. Open this year guarantees him a spot in the Masters and the U.S. Open next year. A 25th place finish at q-school wouldn't improve his situation very much.
The dynamic of greatness as illustrated by Duval and Agassi is interesting because on the surface their paths seemed similar. Closer inspection after Agassi's recent revelations suggests that their commonality may only extend as far as their desire for greatness, followed by their insistence on balance in their lives.
The players this week, particularly the young ones, are only concerned with one thing. They want to pass the test of second stage. To do so requires blinders, not only to the other players around you but to the other human beings in your life, as well. All the love and support in the world can't do it for you. The recipe for success in sports is selfish determination -- and not just for one week, either.
As a culture we admire this attribute. We call it determination or drive. Whatever the word you choose, though, the resulting success most definitely comes with a price -- and often the young golfers and tennis players don't even know they are paying it.
Former PGA TOUR player John Maginnes is a columnist for PGATOUR.COM. His views do not necessarily represent the views of the PGA TOUR.