Why Does Andre Agassi Say Winning Changes Nothing?

David Senra reads Andre Agassi's verdict after the 1992 Wimbledon final: winning changes nothing, because a win does not feel as good as a loss feels bad and the good feeling does not last as long as the bad.

In the fifth set Agassi runs in place and tells himself he wants the match. In the last three slams he had not wanted them enough, so he had not brought his best. He calls time and talks aloud, ordering himself to win the point, skip any hope of a double fault, and return the serve with all his strength. He jumps and swings as hard as he can. The opponent misses an easy volley and the ball smacks the net. After 22 years and 22 million swings of a tennis racket, he is the 1992 Wimbledon champion. He falls to his knees, then onto his stomach, and dials his father in Vegas. His father says he had no business losing the fourth set, then stays silent because he is crying. The tears mean he is proud and cannot express it.

Sports writers had spent two years calling him a fraud, a choke artist, and a rebel without a cause. They then declare him a winner, a player of substance, the real deal, and say the victory forces them to reconsider who he really is. He does not feel Wimbledon changed him.