Game, set and thatch Agassi

In his newly published autobiography, Andre Agassi makes the claim that he took crystal meth during his career and that he lied about it to the tennis authorities, who then proceeded to brush the whole affair under the carpet. Now that the story has become public, said authorities are receiving a lot of flak for their handling of the case and other cases like it, and the game's reputation threatens to go the way of baseball's as a result.

Now, whilst not wishing to condone drug taking at all, I'm not aware that crystal meth is in any way performance enhancing - in fact, I would think it's quite the opposite - and in my opinion the people who run tennis should be more embarrassed about another of Agassi's misdemeanors that has come to light in his book.

I'm talking about his wig!

It would appear that the ridiculous mane that Agassi sported in the early part of his career was in fact an even more ridiculous syrup that covered up his prematurely balding pate, and its disintegration the night before the 1990 French Open final was the reason behind Agassi's crushing loss on that day. His brother had to help him reattach the perished postiche with about twenty clips, and Agassi was consequently very wary of diving around the court lest his toupee tumble to the floor mid-rally. If Agassi is now going to receive retroactive punishment, it has surely got to be for his follicular crimes rather than his drug-related ones! Donning a wig is one thing, but to become Joe Dirt's role model out of one's own volition is as incomprehensible as it is inexcusable.

Finally, I must quote you this line from the book; Agassi is talking here about the letter he claims he wrote to the ATP in 1997 to explain his positive drug test, but in a grand case of Freudian slippage I think he's really making an admission about the state of his hair:

"It was full of lies, interwoven with the truth."

Priceless - you just can't write that stuff (unless you're Andre Agassi, of course).

And we're back...

After ten most relaxing days of vacation, I am now firmly ensconced back in the North and the blog is finally back online. I hadn't planned such a hiatus from my musings, but with irony of which Ms. Morissette could only dream, I was more busy on holiday than I usually am at work, so blogging ended up being put very much on the back burner.

It was great to see Melanie again, and she still has another week in Canada before she has to go back to the UK for the summer term at her school. She is going to use that week to draw up a list of chores for me, so that when I return home in May I will be suitably occupied until her school year ends in July, at which time she will be coming back out to Canada. Just how many of these chores can be left to the last minute I don't know yet, but I'm sure that I'll be able to work that out soon enough.

So, what were the highlights of my vacation, I hear you ask? Well, I managed to get the haircut I was looking forward to, rather a good one I thought as well, but both Dave and Celine have commented that I must have gone to the same barber as Simon Cowell. Now, I happen to like Simon Cowell so I will take this as a huge compliment, but I don't know if that's what was intended! Alongside the long-awaited haircut I was also able to enjoy my long-awaited return to Tim Horton's - three visits on the first day back alone - and I managed to win three coffees and a donut by rolling up the rim, which is a very good return, given my track record of (not) winning things. I did win a Jimmy Hill football trivia book once on a Radio Bristol phone-in quiz, but that's about it. I wonder how many donuts you could fit on Jimmy Hill's chin...

But I digest.

It was also mighty fine to catch up with friends over the course of the last week, and the normal southern staples of fast internet - yes, Cogeco did finally reconnect us - and being able to drive felt like refreshing novelties. It was also very pleasant to be able to see trees and grass again; I had forgotten what the colour green looked like. One sad happening during the week was the broadcast of the final ever episode of Corner Gas. I admire Brent Butt's decision to end the show whilst it was still at the height of its popularity, but I wish he hadn't made it! Maybe a trip to Dog River will be in order during the summer...

Not long after watching Corner Gas on Monday I had to leave in order to start my journey north, and on Tuesday afternoon I found myself back in Inukjuak, which is still cold and white, but not quite as cold as when I left. My flight was uneventful, although I was treated to a full body search as I passed through security in Montreal. The officer even searched my hair - I kid you not - but unsurprisingly found nothing; maybe he just wanted to admire the fine craftsmanship of my haircut at close quarters. I wonder if Simon Cowell has to go through all this when he flies? Bet he doesn't.