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I wanted to post this over the weekend, after Andre Agassi bowed out to Rafael Nadal but, well, I've got two kids under the age of two and ... do I really have to spell the rest out for you?

Anyway, I'm now safely - and quietly - back at work, which allows me a few moments to reflect on Agassi, who played his final Wimbledon match on Saturday.

I don't think I've ever reversed my opinion on an athlete quite like I have with Agassi. Growing up, when I was playing junior tennis, I HATED Agassi.

I hated his moussed two-tone mullet. I hated his denim shorts with the bike pants beneath them. I hated his "Image is Everything" ad campaign for Cannon, which just seemed to confirm my belief that he was all flash and no substance. I hated that the media seemed to be in love with him while shunning players who weren't as flashy - like Courier and Sampras - but were clearly better.

Most of all, I hated that Agassi was spawning legions of wanna-bes on the junior circuit, long on attitude and loud colors and short on sportsmanship.

Now? I'm going to really miss the guy. Not just because there isn't anyone from the U.S. - and I mean no one - who's ready to take the mantle as the best American in tennis.

Even in the early days, when Agassi was at his most obnoxious, I always respected his talent and enjoyed watching him play. He was a freak of nature, hitting balls so early and so hard from both sides. He was proof that you could be a power player from the baseline, as evidenced by his 1992 win at Wimbledon, which he won with no net game and without much of a serve.

Still, he was destined to be a guy remembered for squandering his once-in-a-generation talent until something happened. Something changed. What was it exactly? I don't know. And maybe that's the secret. Rather than undergoing some cataclysm that might bring about only short-term change, Agassi seemed to go through a longer metamorphosis that clearly took.

Famous for his junk food diet, he got in shape. Known for ducking Wimbledon, he started showing up, even wearing - gasp! - the traditional white. He started to show respect for the game, its traditions and its elders. And he started to win, a lot. (Oh yeah, he also shaved his mullet, thank goodness).

The one thing that didn't change was his popularity. Agassi didn't have to be a bad boy, a la Connors or McEnroe, to win the hearts of fans and media members. He proved himself to be a thoughtful, interesting interview. And his brand of tennis was as attractive as ever.

Sampras always remained my guy in the big tournaments, but I found myself rooting for Agassi whenever he wasn't playing Big Pete. And on Saturday, I was absolutely behind Agassi when he fell to Nadal, the kind of player whose game was clearly influenced by Agassi - even though the Spaniard was only six when Agassi won Wimbledon.

Now I've got to find someone else to cheer for among the Americans. Roddick? I don't think he's ever going to live up to the hype. Blake? Very likeable, but apparently very limited in his potential. Anyone else? Helllooooo?

For now, I'll have to settle for appreciating Federer's dominance. And I'll look forward to Agassi's goodbye tour at the U.S. Open, where I hope he rides off into the sunset with one more major title.