Made in America

Hot dog or bologna sandwich?  Shorter distance with stop lights or longer distance on the highway?  Go to sleep or stay up to watch a shitty movie?  These are some of life's toughest decisions.....ever......period.  There's an easy answer every time but every time it alludes us.  You pick one after deep thought, you're happy about it for no minutes, and you long for the other decision no matter how well your original choice panned out.  There's no way around it.  This is how it was for me growing up being a fan of both Andre Agassi and Pete Sampras.

Andre was the bad boy.  He was, seemingly, the rebel without a cause, the anti-establishment poster boy, the image is everything playboy.  He had the mullet, the bandanna, the jean shorts, the neon colors, and even wore black (OMG).  He was Bon Jovi with a racket.  Pete was the goody-two-shoes.  Plain white clothes, naturally curly hair, and the dimpled smile.  The understated gentleman.  Both men's games were nothing like their styles though.  

Andre's rock n roll image didn't match his methodical play.  He was a grinder.  A defensive genius.  He'd run and run and make you hit shots.  He could return anything you had.  He would pick times to wear you down instead of just winning the point on an easy shot.  He wanted to own you.  He made you know he could take your best shot and you still didn't have enough to beat him.  

Pete....he didn't even want you on the same court as him.  He served huge.  He sprinted to the net.  He dropped a shot that is utterly unreachable.  Then he'd do it again.  And again.  And before you knew it you were asked to try to serve against one of the best forehands of all time.  Good luck.  He ran people off the court.  End the point.  Next!

As a kid I never could really figure out who to root for, especially when they played each other.  I loved the grit and determination Andre had, but Pete's polished efficiency was something to admire.  I loved Andre and was in awe of Pete.  When they played......awe usually took over.  The best returner of the generation going up against the best server.  Black vs. white.  Bad vs. good.  Rebel vs. corporate.  They were marketers' dreams come true.  So many storylines.  So many things to compare and contrast.  

There were times in matches where I would totally switch who I was rooting for.  Hell....there were times in long points that I'd flip flop.  They were the coolest guys ever.  American tennis was inspiring.  What happened to that?  Andy Roddick looked to be the next best thing.  Nope.  One major and then a guy named Roger showed up.  Then a guy named Rafa showed up.  Now there's a guy named Novak.  You hear about some of the kids coming up in America rarely.  The men's game is so stout right now.  It's hard to break into the top 10.  Competition is fierce.  

A few years ago a kid named Donald Young was supposed to be the next up and comer.  Now they're talking about Ryan Harrison.  Harrison might be legit but it's looking more and more likely Young might not ever reach the potential he was once thought to have.  If Harrison gets to the top will he stay?  Will there be another American who pushes him?  Who beats him from time to time?  American tennis needs another guy to hook onto.  We're not meant to have just one star.  People are stars because of who they're compared to.  Peyton and Tom.  Tiger and Phil.  Kobe and LeBron.  America loves that comparison.  We thrive on it.  Roddick was nothing but grilled cheese.  Bring on the hot dog and bologna sandwich.  America awaits.