By this time next week, Andre Agassi's remarkable career will be over.
If it isn't, it will mean he's in the US Open semifinals at the ripe young age of 36 and either one or two games away from retirement.
And New York will be going bonkers over the little Las Vegan who has been pigeon-toeing his way across the world's tennis courts for 21 years, collecting titles as we mortals gather souvenirs.
How good is he? Only five men have won all four Grand Slam events. Not Connors. Not McEnroe, Not Sampras. Not Borg. Not Federer. Not Lendl. Agassi has. And he's the only man to win on all four surfaces: grass, hardcourt, clay and rebound ace.
Wise tennis heads reckon he's the best returner of serve there has been. He's also one of those rare blokes who looks better bald than when he had hair. Remember the mullet?
Next up, he faces B. Becker. He's German, but he's no Boris. It's Benjamin. From there, Andy Roddick will most likely be waiting. But best take it in time-honoured tradition, one game at a time.
He's right to be leaving now. His knees are shot, the family are calling and there is nothing sadder than a great athlete trying to stop time.
Of course Agassi's marathon win over popular Cypriot Marcos Baghdadis yesterday meant one of those dreadfully sycophantic interviews with John McEnroe.
But the Yanks lap up that stuff, especially after the emotional ride they'd taken with Agassi.
Americans love their sports heroes. They happily put them on a pedestal and keep them there. They tend to put aside human shortcomings and remember the good times.
New Zealanders could do with a dose of this quality. Too often an athlete who does too well, who marches to his or her own drum, is picked at like vultures over a carcass. A "why can't they be normal like us?" attitude surfaces.
A personal favourite Agassi memory? Nothing on the court.
At a press conference many years ago, back when he had hair, Agassi was asked a question which left you thinking, Rove style, "What the?"
"Andre, at 15-30 in the third game of the second set you tried a backhand volley cross court and missed. Why did you play that shot?" Agassi looked the chap up and down and replied: "Why are you wearing a brown shirt with yellow pants?"
* One night in Johannesburg, a group of South Africans were drinking and dining in a restaurant.
It was December 1994. Ken Rutherford's cricketers were about to fall off the rails after winning the first test. The height of summer, but South Africa is like New Zealand: rugby is either in full swing or never far away.
So when a big, middle-aged bloke said: "So you're a New Zealander sir? Can I ask you a question?" it seemed a natural assumption that cricket was about to be discussed.
What he actually asked was: "How do you think the All Black front row will go in the World Cup?"
At such moments, you're tempted to say "what World Cup?" except levity was a surefire loser, given that that desperately serious business was a matter of months away and we were standing in the host country.
A reply was offered on the merits of Olo Brown, Sean Fitzpatrick and Craig Dowd which was greeted with a laugh followed by (and here think Hogan's Heroes' Sergeant Schultz for a moment): "Ah, we will crrrrush them man!"
There are times when you know a conversation has run its course. This was one of them.
What Schultz would have made of the present Springbok state of affairs is anyone's guess. Disbelieving. Incredulous perhaps.
But there will be, underneath it all, a conviction that good times are just round the corner. He'll probably be convinced Rustenburg tomorrow will be that corner.
Patriotism is fine. But South Africans are going through a massive rugby reality check. It will continue early tomorrow.
<i>David Leggat:</i> No-hair Agassi hard to beat on any surface
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