Upon finishing Andre Agassi's autobiography "Open" my first thought was that, like with so many biographies, most readers would yearn for such an existence that the writer describes in such vivid detail. Even with the emotional torment, the physical toll that tennis has taken on the native Las Vegan's naturally unathletic body and the brutal upbringing under his dictatorial and unforgiving father, he has nonetheless lived a full life.

And very few of us truly live a complete life - one of significant triumphs, sins, acute sadness and rare glory. So many would just love the chance to talk about the regret and melancholy that accompanied the spectrum of such ups and downs because that would mean their life carried at least some weight and import. There are millions of downcast, isolated and miserable souls who feel cheated in this hyped media age if their lives are devoid of the now expected excitement that many seem to believe is a 21st century birthright.

Let's face it - most live their seven or eight decades without much adventure, risk taking or any sizeable amount of success. And often, when those famous or infamous recount their struggles and high points, it all appears far less tragic because of this fact.

But what makes Agassi's story - or perhaps more aptly labeled urgent confessional - so compelling is that he lays out his missteps without blatantly asking for forgiveness or even grace, as with his admission of drug use. The words uttered throughout the nearly 400 pages (with a significant assist from uncredited writer J.R. Moehringer who undoubtedly gave the book its eminently readable quality) by the former number one player appear as searing insights into his divided, irritable and vengeful nature. It's almost as if the 39 year old is using the book as his final act of therapy to fully reveal and rectify - reconcile - the double (or triple?) life that he's perpetrated on his fans for the last nearly quarter century.

And this is no small feat. If one uses other sports biographies as a comparison, this book stands alone. And if it is compared to other tennis-specific life stories, this breaks the mold. It is a refreshing counter to John McEnroe's "You Cannot Be Serious". That book from the omnipresent New Yorker served as more of a self-promotional text that only enhanced his beloved status as everyone's favorite - or despised - trouble maker. There were few surprises in Johnny Mac's tome. If you hated or loved McEnroe going into reading it, the viewpoint didn't change upon completion.

With "Open" it's an entirely different and more nuanced story. Agassi has never been easy to love. Or more accurately, it took a long time for him to become beloved. And this book doesn't change that. The obnoxious side to his character is revealed without a tangible desire for the reader to explain away his behavior. In one example, he comes across as petty and juvenile. After defeating Boris Becker in the semifinals of the US Open in 1995 - serving as desired payback for his defeat to the German at Wimbledon two moths prior - Agassi lingers at the baseline before finally approaching the net for the customary post-match handshake. He tells of how he resented Becker's statements at Wimbledon after the German had pulled of a stunning upset over the American.

This obstinate and immature behavior is directly related to Agassi's utter cowardice. While it's unrealistic and insane to expect a child to stand up to a boorish and relentless parent, Agassi nonetheless had many opportunities to protest his father(s) doings - tennis coach Nick Bolletieiri included here as a father figure. Instead, we learn that Agassi internalized his emotions and acted out indirectly against those who he perceived wronged him.

This cowardice emerges as a constant in his life. Whether it be his using of drugs to stifle pain or his failure to be honest in his relationship with Brooke Shields or his refusal to admit for so long that his peers who he had grown up with had surpassed him, Agassi's pusillanimous nature is an unquestionable and constant thread.

But the other strain that is rendered brightly in the book is his powerful love - and desperate need - of love. The absolute certainty that friendships and relationships are the only way to navigate through life is the laudable object lesson of the book, however unintended.

And in no other person is this so strikingly realized as it is with Gil Reyes, Agassi's longtime trainer and confidant. The total and magnificent loyalty that Reyes exhibits throughout - including the confronting of some who sent hate mail to Agassi - is unusual and invaluable. Agassi's obvious and total love for Reyes provides the reader with the redemptive side to the fragile makeup of the man who was saddled with the phrase of "image is everything."

In addition to some moving passages regarding Reyes, the other most revealing and amusing segments relate to Brad Gilbert, the man who nearly single handedly saved Agassi's career. The beer loving Gilbert comes across as a man serving as a counterpoint to Agassi - far more than Pete Sampras, the man most used to serving as Agassi's foil and conqueror. Gilbert is disarmingly honest and utterly self-aware of his faults and strengths, qualities that Agassi has struggled with his entire life.

Whatever one thinks of Agassi, the man has put to paper some relevant and eternal truths. Perhaps the most foremost of such is that perseverance takes on many forms. More specifically it is a fickle virtue. Andre Agassi proves that, on its own, surviving is not enough. To be sure, he implores us, you have to be selective when choosing a tenacious path. As he discovered, just sticking things out can lead to dire consequences. And he's lucky enough to be able to relate the details.