With Wimbledon underway, I’ve been thinking about the player who got me into the sport in the first place: Andre Agassi.

When I was a kid, Agassi was it.
The hair. The attitude. The denim shorts with fluorescent spandex underneath.
I had the full Nike kit. I was all in.

He made tennis feel bold, expressive, alive — especially in a world where the top players were guys like Ivan Lendl and Stefan Edberg: stoic, elegant, all business.
Agassi was different. Loud. Fun. Unapologetically himself.

Later, when Pete Sampras came along — all calm excellence — I didn’t connect with him either (just like Edberg and Lendl).
He was just… good and boring. (Though eventually, I came to respect him. Because I respect all great champions.)

But the version of Agassi I truly idolized came later.

The one who hit rock bottom — falling from World No. 1 to No. 141 in the rankings.
The one who rebuilt himself through training, discipline, and purpose.
The one who came back stronger — and stayed on top through hard, quiet work.

That’s when he became not just great — but iconic.
The kind of figure who transcended tennis.

You can start with image.
But if you want to last — in tennis, in leadership, in life — you need purpose and persistence.

I still have a signed photo from Agassi that my middle school girlfriend wrote in for.
And I keep a framed picture in my basement from the day I met him at Dodger Stadium — one of the coolest days of my life.

Signed photo from Andre Agassi that I got in middle school

He was my hero when it was all about image.
He became my idol when he found his purpose.

(And yes, I feel the same way about Djokovic — I didn’t love him at first, but his mental strength and relentless excellence won me over.)