Open: An Autobiography

It’s like laying fresh bait in a Nick trap. Nick lives to discover new stars and showcase them in his tournaments. New stars generate buzz. New stars add to the aura of the Bollettieri Academy, and bolster Nick’s image as the great tennis mentor. Sure enough, days later, Perry receives a plane ticket and a personal invite to the tournament. He flies down to Florida and takes a cab to the Bollettieri Academy. I meet him in the compound and we throw our arms around each other, cackling at the fast one we’re pulling on Nick.

Who do I have to play?

Murphy Jensen.

Oh no. He’s great!

Don’t worry about it. That’s not for a few days. For now, let’s party.

One of the many perks for kids playing in the tournament is a field trip to Busch Gardens in Tampa. On the bus to the amusement park I bring Perry up to speed, tell him about my public humiliation, describe how miserable I am at the Bollettieri Academy. And at Bradenton Academy. I tell him I’m close to failing. That’s where I lose him. For once he’s not able to make my problem sound coherent. He loves school. He dreams of attending a fine Eastern college, then law school.

I change the subject. I grill him about Jamie. Did she ask about me? How does she look?

Does she wear my ankle bracelet? I tell Perry I want to send him back to Vegas with a special present for Jamie. Maybe something nice from Busch Gardens.

That would be cool, he agrees.

We’re not at Busch Gardens ten minutes before Perry sees a booth filled with stuffed animals. On a high shelf sits an enormous black-and-white panda, its legs sticking left and right, its tiny red tongue hanging out.

Andre - you need to get Jamie that!

Well, sure, but it’s not for sale. You have to win the grand prize to get that panda, and no one wins this game. It’s rigged. I don’t like things that are rigged.

Nah. You just have to toss two rubber rings around the neck of a Coke bottle. We’re athletes. We’ve got this.

We try for half an hour, scattering rubber rings all over the booth. Not one ring comes close to lassoing a Coke bottle.

OK, Perry says. Here’s what we do. You distract the lady running the booth, I’ll sneak back there and put two of these rings on the bottles.

I don’t know. What if we get caught?

But then I remember: It’s for Jamie. Anything for Jamie.

I call out to the booth lady: Excuse me, ma’am, I have a question.

She turns. Yes?

I ask something inane about the rules of ringtoss. In my peripheral vision I see Perry tiptoe into the booth. Four seconds later he leaps back.

I won! I won!

The booth lady spins around. She sees two Coke bottles with rubber rings around their necks. She looks shocked. Then skeptical.

Now wait just a minute, kid -

I won! Give me my panda!

I didn’t see -

That’s your problem if you didn’t see. That’s not the rule, you have to see. Where does it say you have to see? I want to talk to your supervisor! Get Mr. Busch Gardens himself down here! I’m taking this whole amusement park to court. What kind of a gyp is this? I paid a dollar to play this game, and that’s an implied contract. You owe me a panda. I’m suing. My father is suing. You have exactly three seconds to get me my panda, which I won fair and fucking square!

Perry is doing what he loves, talking. He’s doing what his father does, selling air. And the booth lady is doing what she hates, manning a booth at an amusement park. It’s no contest.

She doesn’t want any trouble and she doesn’t need this headache. With a long stick she snatches down the big panda and forks it over. It’s nearly as tall as Perry. He grabs it like a giant Chipwich and we run off before she changes her mind.

For the rest of the night we’re a threesome: Perry, me, and the panda. We bring the panda to the snack bar, into the boys’ room, on the roller coaster. It’s like we’re babysitting a co-matose fourteen-year-old. A real panda couldn’t be more trouble. When the time comes to board the bus, we’re both weary and glad to dump the panda in its own seat, which it fills. Its girth is as shocking as its height.

I say, I hope Jamie appreciates this.

Perry says, She’s going to love it.

A little girl sits behind us. She’s eight or nine. She can’t take her eyes off the panda. She coos and pets its fur.

What a pretty panda! Where did you get it?

We won it.

What are you going to do with it?

I’m giving it to a friend.

She asks to sit with the panda. She asks if she can cuddle it. I tell her to help herself.

I hope Jamie likes the panda half as much as this girl does.

PERRY AND I are hanging out in the barracks the next morning when Gabriel pokes his head in.

The Man wants to see you.

What about?

Gabriel shrugs.

I walk slowly, taking my time. I stop at the door to Nick’s office and with a thin smile I remember. Nick the Dick. You’ll be missed, Roddy.

Nick is sitting behind his desk, leaning back in his tall black leather chair.

Andre, come in, come in.

I sit in a wooden chair across from him.

He clears his throat. I understand, he says, that you were at Busch Gardens yesterday.

Did you have fun?