Strangers on a (Private) Plane, Agassi and Sargsian Bonded
By SELENA ROBERTS
New York Times, NY
Sept 6 2004
David Duprey/Associated Press, left; Chang W. Lee/The New York Times
Sargis Sargsian, 31, left, will face one of his heroes, Andre Agassi,
34, Monday at the United States Open.
IT was late Saturday night, with the grandstand girders finally still
after nearly five hours of stamping, with the roars that had
sustained Sargis Sargsian over, when a Connecticut family returned to
its home near New Haven.
The Mansourians were Sargsian’s family, too, the one once found for
him through the Yale alumni directory.
The Mansourians had just watched Sargsian, a 31-year-old Armenian,
summon the spirit of youth in his legs as he finished off his second
five-set match in two rounds at the United States Open, ending more
than 10 hours of court time in three days by lying on his back across
the baseline, staring up at the sky, overjoyed with his unlikely
entrance into the fourth round.
“I can’t put into words what it was like to see it,” Catherine
Mansourian said. “I was drenched in sweat, head to toe. We drove all
the way back home, walked in the door and threw our clothes into the
wash.”
A decade later, and here the Mansourians were, a vital part of
Sargsian’s journey to providence via random acts of kindness.
In 1997, the famous Andre Agassi didn’t know Sargsian when he offered
him an impromptu ride on his private plane, wanting the two of them
to hit together in San Francisco before an event they were both
expected to play.
Suddenly, Sargsian was in a sleek jet with four captain’s chairs,
traveling with the icon to Armenians, Andre Agassi, a national hero
of Iranian descent.
“I’d heard he was a generous person,” Sargsian said in an interview
yesterday. “I was surprised how simple and normal he was.”
He also knew how Agassi’s star had plummeted into a confused funk by
1997. That fall, Sargsian faced Agassi in a satellite event in
Burbank, Calif. At the time, Agassi was ranked No. 122 in the world,
up from his low of 141. In front of 1,000 fans on three-step risers
around an inglorious court, Agassi, as Sargsian admitted, “demolished
me.”
“I was with him a lot during his slide,” Sargsian said. “I remember
his plan to come back to No. 1. And, I admit this, it was one of the
few times in my life I’ve doubted him. He didn’t only come back; he
dominated. He is a great player, a great person. He means so much to
me.”
Sargsian will face his hero today, at Arthur Ashe Stadium, with the
Mansourians in the stands and Agassi across the court in a moment
borne of the generosity of strangers.
No doubt Agassi will exit tennis with a legacy of giving. The lucky
superstars get to choose the circumstance of their departure. A year
ago, Pete Sampras left with his statistics to tell the story of his
career in terms of majors won, aces served, volleys struck.
Agassi’s ghost will have more layers as a man who spent his fame on
creating a charter school in Las Vegas, on raising millions for AIDS
research, on mentoring players as young and famous as Andy Roddick or
as obscure and struggling as Sargsian.
“He has always helped me, for many years,” Sargsian said of Agassi.
“He tells me everything. I haven’t asked how to beat him, but maybe I
should before we play. He is an amazing person.”
In an isolationist American star culture, Agassi reached out. In a
self-involved American society, the Mansourians answered a call in
the summer of 1993.
With a national team of Armenians on the way to Yale and nowhere to
put them, the Yale women’s coach, Becky Chase, began searching the
names of the university directory, looking for anyone with a name
ending in ian.
Mansourian, that sounded Armenian.
“I happened to be home,” Catherine Mansourian said.
The conversation began with a friendly, “Are you interested in
tennis?” and ended with Catherine explaining how her father-in-law
had been an Iranian champion in the 40’s.
A few minutes later, Catherine was zipping through a grocery store
aisle, whisking two turkeys from a cooler and preparing to receive 20
guests for dinner.
One of them was Sargsian. He had two ragged rackets and talent that
amazed the Mansourian family as they followed him to New Jersey to
see him player later that week.
“I said, ‘This kid is so talented, he can’t go back,’ ” Catherine
recalled. ” ‘Can we keep him for the winter?’ ”
Soon, Sargsian and another Armenian player moved into the
Mansourians’ home, with two of their four children still under the
roof.
“Sargis thought he was going to have to sleep on the floor,”
Catherine said. “I showed him his bedroom, and he looked at me and
said, ‘Five stars.’ He was wonderful.”
He was 18, from a country where his father was an engineer but earned
less than the equivalent of $10 a month.
Now he had American shelter with Vazrick Mansourian, a physician, and
his wife, Catherine, a physician’s assistant.
They treated Sargsian as one of their own. They gave him a 19th
birthday party by rolling up the carpet, turning on the music and
dancing all night to take part in Armenian culture.
They were there for the nine-hour drives to tennis events in Buffalo,
and for the wonder Sargsian revealed watching MTV and seeing the size
of American grocery stores.
As a teenager, Sargsian could eat through $24 in fruit a day, and 24
hard rolls, too.
“I think he knew we loved him,” Catherine said. “We told him from Day
1, we’d always look out for him.”
But why? Why didn’t Catherine Mansourian tell Becky Chase, “Sorry,
not interested” when she called? Why did Agassi take Sargsian under
his wing?
“People ask me, but I don’t know why we did it,” Catherine said. “It
was such a spontaneous thing.”
Sometimes, destiny needs allies.