你亲爱的朋友 布贝作者: Hansen 时间: 2013-9-9 12:41
表面上看到的阿加西从张狂到谦逊，这本书让我看到了内在的阿加西和他成长的过程。 一次一次的和自己较量。网球就是最孤独的运动。永远自己站在一边。较量的是自己的心无杂念和专注。这本书写的非常优美和富有哲理。（这个世界是我能控制的事情很少， 对我能控制的，我会做到极致，比如整理我的网球包。等等）。另外看到的还有就是天才是辛苦换来的，网球的一些不为认知的内幕，比如穿网线的重要性。作者: 不予 时间: 2013-9-9 19:51
初读这本自传，感觉很劲爆，阿加西老爸是个疯子，阿加西本身也是个不良少年。这都完全颠覆了我对伟大球手的影响。生于伟大，然而直到涅磐重生到伟大前那么多的时刻，都是历经种种磨练的煎熬。
首先，看这自传根据是在听一个痞子说话。某个时候让我想起麦田守望者这本书，有点颓废的气息。这跟看费德勒传记完全不一样，可能是因为出自他人之手的原因，我一直只在书中看到成长之路一路的辉煌。阿加西不一样，他说出自己的喜欢，自己的厌恶，自己的堕落，甚至连吃过安非他命这件事他也告诉全世界。
其次，这个痞子还有个疯子一样的爸爸。不得不说，阿加西能成长成一个出色的网球手，是他父亲一手栽培出来的。他的父亲真不是像费爸那样儒雅可憨的爸爸，暴躁，愤怒，专横，为了让儿子赢球赛逼他吃毒品。我想他的父亲即使在人格上有缺陷，也不妨碍他对儿子的期待。父母的培养真真是伟大球员诞生的重要关键啊。
最后，看到后面阿加西讲到自己人到中年的辛酸。有那么一种可能性是，如果没有费德勒，阿加西的职业生涯或许能够更辉煌一些。我喜欢费德勒，但是我也佩服纳达尔，因为网球这项运动，真的很需要那种拼搏精神，这是一项孤独而又需要智慧的运动。正如阿加西所说，“网球是一项自言自语的运动，任何其他运动员都不会像网球运动员这样自言自语。棒球投球手、高尔夫球手、足球守门员，当然也会自己小声嘟囔，但是网球运动员是自己提问然后回答。在比赛最激烈的时刻，网球运动员看起来就像公共广场上的疯子，大声叫嚷、诅咒谩骂，不断与自我进行着辩论。为什么？因为网球这种运动太孤独了，只有拳击手才能理解网球运动员的孤独。就算是拳击手，也有助手和经纪人陪伴着，他们甚至还可以将拳击场上的对手视做某种意义上的伙伴，和他们扭斗、对他们咕哝。然而在网球比赛中，你和对手永远是面对面地厮杀，却永远不会碰触对方或是跟对方或是其他任何人交谈。网球规则禁止网球运动员在比赛时与人交谈，甚至与教练交谈都不行。 ” 很多时候，我们看那些世界排名很前的选手总是觉得他们辉煌，可是没有付出和强大的精神做后盾，怎么会有那样的辉煌呢？特别在网球这项竞争激烈的运动里面，没有天赋+努力，哪天才能突围出来？小德都是熬了这么多年才能坐到第二的位置。阿加西那个年代还有康纳斯，桑普拉斯这样伟大的球手，到了中年，还要面对费德勒，休伊顿，萨芬等等的后起之秀，精神要粗到什么程度才能经得起这样的大起大落。我想在阿加西人到中年拿到他最后一个澳网大满贯，必定有很多人感动吧。一个天才经历人生低潮然后烈火重生，怎么说都是个让人动容的故事。
这是一个我不曾认识的阿加西，可是他又是那样的真实，真实到你甚至不觉得他伟大，他只是一个网球手而已。作者: travel 时间: 2013-9-15 03:10
我虽然不太懂网球，但从小爱好体育的我知道阿加西这个人，觉得他很酷。之前从媒体那里得来的关于此人的所有信息归结成一句话就是阿加西很叛逆，我断断续续的关于他的记忆中他得过很多次第一，也跌出过百名开外，但他在此境中又能绝处逢生，东山再起，我对他最后的印象是他跟格拉芙结婚。
如今当我看到他的传记，我毫不犹豫的买了一本，并计划以一天看完一章的速度看完它，没想到我却轻轻松松的两天就搞定了它。正如书中序言里所说的，这是一个由男孩成长为男人的故事，但我没想到我眼中的偶像内心有过如此多的挣扎。
我们总是无数次的重复和嘲笑那句自我安慰的老话：金钱不是一切，金钱换不来幸福。那是因为世界上大多数的芸芸众生都在为维持生计活着，而我作为其中的一个，我肯定感受不到有钱没有什么不好。
看完此书，我至少从中感受到了：你内心的踏实感，不但无法从外界给予你的荣誉中获得，也不能从金钱中得到救赎。看到他两次截然不同的婚姻，我也领悟到了，里子比面子重要！
阿加西，我心中的偶像，永远的传奇！作者: D.H 时间: 2013-9-21 19:00
Andre Agassi often says in “Open” that tennis is a lonely game. But the writing of this autobiography was a team sport. Mr. Agassi’s memoir was put together by J. R. Moehringer, who wrote “The Tender Bar,” a shapely and expert memoir of his own. The same gift of gab that colored Mr. Moehringer’s tales of being a boy in a barroom now magically finds its way onto the tennis court and into Mr. Agassi’s much-analyzed, follicularly challenged head.
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John C. Russell
Andre Agassi
OPEN
An Autobiography
By Andre Agassi
Illustrated. 386 pages. Alfred A. Knopf. $28.95.
Related
Times Topics: Andre Agassi
Inevitably one wonders which of them actually wrote “it’s the main reason for my pigeon-toed walk” about Mr. Agassi’s troublesome bottom vertebra. The ease with which Mr. Moehringer slips into telling someone else’s story is both consummate and spooky. As for Mr. Agassi, he uses his writing partner in the same way he uses his tennis support staff: as talented individuals in a universe where he, Mr. Agassi, is the one and only sun. (He said that he offered to put Mr. Moehringer’s name on the book, and that Mr. Moehringer declined.)
Welcome to Mr. Agassi’s world. As described in “Open” it is lively but narrow, since Mr. Agassi’s curiosity does not extend far beyond tennis, more tennis, the misery of tennis, the way sportswriters misunderstand tennis and the irritating celebrity that tennis stardom confers. The biggest extracurricular events in Mr. Agassi’s life have been prompted by episodes of “60 Minutes” (one of which inspired him to open a charter school for at-risk children) and by friends’ predictions about which women he would meet, court and marry.
The bullet-point highlights of “Open” have been given the tabloid treatment in advance of the book’s arrival. Its biggest headline maker is a very brief account of Mr. Agassi’s use of crystal meth in 1997, the worst year of his career. Second biggest: that Mr. Agassi has spent years lying through his teeth to interviewers about his love of the game. Third biggest: those frosted mullets might have been part toupee. Shaving his head and liberating himself from fake hair seems actually to have been one of the few joyous things that the otherwise glum and weepy Mr. Agassi has done.
Given the anticlimactic nature of these revelations, what exactly keeps “Open” going? Somebody on the memoir team has great gifts for heart-tugging drama. And through some combination of Mr. Agassi’s keen memory and Mr. Moehringer’s narrative skills, “Open” is cleverly bookended by two all-important tennis matches. It begins with the 2006 United States Open, Mr. Agassi’s last tournament, and with a you-are-there tour of the weary champ’s psyche. “This will no longer be tennis, but a raw test of wills,” the book says with gladiatorial bravado.
Then, mid-showdown at Arthur Ashe Stadium, Mr. Agassi’s mind is “forcibly spinning” into the past, as if it were a whirling tennis ball. And as the book moves into full flashback mode: “I see everything with bright, startling clarity, every setback, victory, rivalry, tantrum, paycheck, girlfriend, betrayal, reporter, wife, child, outfit, fan letter, grudge match and crying jag.”
Cut to childhood. Mr. Agassi is 7 and forced into tennis servitude by a father so tough that he pulls out his own nose hair. For that and many other reasons little Andre is afraid to resist his father’s indomitable will. And his father, himself an ex-athlete, is so determined to make his son succeed that when Andre wins a trophy for sportsmanship (i.e., for something short of winning), his father smashes it to pieces.
Years later, as a tennis star married to Brooke Shields, he’s irritated as he watches her film an appearance on some television show he’s barely heard of (“Friends”). He stomps out of the studio, goes home and smashes his trophies himself. This is what passes for adult behavior during much of his grueling yet cosseted tennis career.
Among the more genuinely startling elements of “Open” is its scornful depiction of Ms. Shields as shallow, materialistic, dense and not sufficiently interested in Mr. Agassi’s career. (Though she does, damningly, show some interest in her own.) Mr. Agassi does not easily forgive, and his book is larded with extremely backhanded compliments for those who have crossed him. “I envy Pete’s dullness,” the book says of Mr. Agassi’s frequent rival Pete Sampras. “I wish I could emulate his spectacular lack of inspiration, and his peculiar lack of need for inspiration.” And yet Mr. Sampras is one of the more highly regarded opponents in Mr. Agassi’s story.
“Open” devotes a lot of space to thumbnail descriptions of matches and opponents, a litany that would drone on without dynamic, writerly flourishes. “The second set turns into a street fight and a wrestling match and pistols at 50 paces,” the books says of a first-round match at the French Open against the Argentine Franco Squillari.
This 1999 match, as tennis historians will record, is the occasion on which Mr. Agassi forgot his underwear, triumphed and vowed never to wear underwear again, which is one more indication that heated tennis combat is this book’s closest facsimile of sex. “The finish line is close enough to kiss,” he writes about the dramatic French Open final against Andrei Medvedev, “I feel it pulling me.” He is “terrified by how good this feels,” he writes about winning.
It is at about this time that Mr. Agassi seriously crosses paths with Steffi Graf, the fellow champion who will become the most important woman in his life. She has won the women’s side of the 1999 French Open. (Here’s his way of congratulating her: “You paved the way. You warmed up the court for me.”) When it comes to Ms. Graf, the combined effects of Mr. Agassi’s bedazzlement and Mr. Moehringer’s real romantic flair lead this book toward a fairy-tale finale.
The last scene is a love match between the married tennis stars, who have both retired and now have two children. They’re playing for fun on a public court. And “Open” has to end midmatch, because this game has two winners. 作者: D.H 时间: 2013-9-29 06:26
全书的开篇是这样的：
“我睁开双眼，却不知道身在何处，甚至不知道自己是谁。这没有什么可大惊小怪的——我一半的人生都是这么度过的。然而，这一次感觉有些不同。这一次，这种错乱感更令人惊恐，更完全，也更彻底。”
很像文艺电影男主角的对白，不是么？但这不是剧本，也不是小说，而是阿加西的自传。作为曾经备受争议的球员，阿加西的身上贴满了叛逆、争吵、世界第一、约会女明星之类的标签。当世界排名成为浮云，名利争吵日渐散去，阿加西先生显然想通过这本书展现一个更真实的自己。
阿加西并不热爱网球，甚至痛恨网球，但他偏偏就赢得8个大满贯。
本书用大量的篇幅讲述其儿童期间近乎梦魇的遭遇。父亲热爱网球，并鬼使神差地认为“如果我每天击中2，500次球，每周就会击中17，500次球，这样一年结束时，我击球的次数就将接近100万。他相信数学，他说数字是不会骗人的。如果一个孩子每年击球100万次，那么他将是不可战胜的。”开始接受魔鬼式训练的时候他才7岁。天知道为了每天击中2，500次球，年幼的阿加西要放弃怎样的愉悦并承受何种痛苦。面对父亲的强势，阿加西并没有多少反抗的空间，当儿时打下的根基已经带领他冲向全球各地的赛场时，他已是脱缰的马，只能尽力奔跑。
除了展示获得胜利的喜悦，阿加西先生还展示了网球残酷的一面。全书的第一章他不忘描述对阵巴格达蒂斯后的情景：“我到更衣室的时候，已经一步也迈不动了。我再也站不住了，瘫倒在地板上，蜷缩在那里。达伦到了，他和一位赛会医生把包从我的肩上拿了下来，吧我搬到一张台子上。”而他的对手此刻也好不到哪里去，“看到巴格达蒂斯躺在隔壁的台子上，他的团队正围着他，帮他恢复体力。他们伸展他的四头肌，他的后腿肌腱就抽筋；他们伸展他的后腿肌腱，他的四头肌就会抽筋；他试着平躺，他的大腿根却又抽筋了。他蜷成了一个球形，求他们不要再管他了。”这样的描述与常见的网球新闻有很大不同。
多数时候，新闻充斥的是变更的世界排名，可观的奖金，以及顶级球员们的飒爽英姿，偶尔也会球员受伤，退赛之类的新闻，但都不过是一笔带过。很少有人真正深入选手们的生活，体会其严苛枯燥的训练，以及大战之后身体虚脱极度扭曲的痛苦。
网球赛事是一盘大生意，不管你是否热爱这项运动，又或者是种子选手还是第一轮就将被淘汰出局的新人，只要你参与进来，你就自动被要求按照游戏规则来玩。阿加西偏偏要做扑火的飞蛾，粉色衫、紧身牛仔短裤、耳钉、与对手打口水仗轮番上场，媒体形象自然好不到哪里去，吃苦头也就再所难免。
本书可以作为励志故事来读，例如在机械的训练中强化身体，在不断失败中坚强心灵，但奇怪的是，Google本书的新闻，多半都以阿加西的假发以及曾经吸食冰毒做噱头。人们还是喜欢体验爆炸性的短暂刺激，心灵的探索与升华总是很容易被习惯性的忽略。难以忽略的是本书的合作者J.R.Moehringer先生，《纽约时报》认为本书是“Unusual well written sport memoir”。阿加西因为阅读了他的自传《The Tender Bar》，所以邀请他作为合著者。Moehringer曾在《洛杉矶时报》以及《纽约时报》工作，拿过普利策奖。他的加盟无异让本书更具深度和看点，但既要兼顾传主生活的多个关键节点，同时又要探寻人生的深度并不是简单的事。本书当然包含了一个男子在平静之后重新认识自己的故事，其中的很多章节拎出来都可以慢慢品味。只是有些东西放到传主的身上就觉得有些气场不和？真的是阿加西的所思所想么？还是合著者结合弗洛伊德的理论重塑了一个连传主都陌生的自己？