THE TENNIS INTERVIEW

Steffi GrafShe's one of the greatest ever to play the game, butshe's never been known as a great communicator.So we were delighted when Steffi Graf agreed tospeak to us - in more depth than she has to anyone- about her brilliant career, famous standoffish rep-utation, infamous father, and sudden retirementfrom tennis last summer. PETER BODO was therewith a tape recorder.

TEFFI GRAF passesdoors of the Park

in midtown Manhattesame way she's alwa}or departed from thmost prestigious tennand clubhouses: in a

As she enters the ]her pale blue eyes lighand she smiles fleetinIt's a sweltering lalsummer afternoon ithe city, but Graf, who'clad in a thin gra\cashmere sweater andshowing a lot of legin her black skirt andchic, woven pumps,looks as composed asshe always did on thecourt.

"Sorry," she says,"I'm not late, am I? I'vejust come back frongetting some riding stufrom Miller's," the Ianmark equestrian shop:visited in preparation

Reprinted by permissMiller Sports Group Lthe March issue ojCopyright © 2000Sports Group LLC. Ththe exclusive licenseeGroup LLC

a vacation in Arizona. It's a mere five minutes past ourappointed hour of 4 p.m., but in Eastern Graf ImpatientTime, 300 seconds is akin to an eternity.

Graf has slowed down just long enough to talk abouther sparkling 17-year career, during which she won 107singles titles, including 22 Grand Slam championships(two short of Margaret Court's all-time record). BurnishingGraf's illustrious achievement is her mastery of every

surface: She won seven times on Wimbledon's grass,clay, five on Flushing?urf II, and four onbound Ace. Now she'sf the Graf World Tour,onth, six-continentit party consisting ofions against currentrmer pros, clinics withren, and a host of oth-rents. (The tour which>sed through the U.S.mid-February, con-

ludes this month inlurope; for informationmd updates, visitivww.octagon.com orwww.Stefanie-Graf.com.)

But despite herfame, Graf is thechampion nobody•eally knows. Shy andirotective to beginrith, she became evenore guarded after twoindals involving herier, Peter. For the pastde, she has presentedractive but enigmatici. Only those closest tobeen allowed to learn

:, I know. I've tried tof in-depth interviewnd time again - and;iously refused. And I

was one of the journalists who had a friendly rela-tionship with her. But I'm not complaining; manyothers are still waiting.

We sit down in an empty cocktail lounge on theground floor of the hotel to talk. Over the next fewhours, it becomes clear that while Graf is a warmerperson now than in her youth - and apt to laughfreely when teased - she remains incurably bashful.This is especially true when it comes to talkingabout things that are more personal than her ten-nis game. She won't, for example, discuss her "lovematch" with Andre Agassi, which reportedly beganshortly before the 1999 U.S. Open. (See "Her lips aresealed")

At times, Graf reaches across the small roundtable and turns off the tape recorder, presumablybecause she finds herself painted into a psycholog-ical or emotional corner, or because she's notcomfortable issuing strong judgments about someof her peers for public consumption. When she reflectson her mixed-doubles partnership at Wimbledon withJohn McEnroe - he criticised her freely and oftenafter she defaulted from last year's semifinals - sheleaves it at this: "I'd wanted to play with John allmy life; I admired his game and achievements somuch. It was fun, but it was very intense, and some-thing I wouldn't want to do again."

After this interview, I felt much the same way.Question: Last spring you began a remarkable resur-gence by winning the French Open, and today you'reofficially retired from the game. Have the past fewmonths been an emotional roller-coaster ride for you?

Answer: Yes, but not necessarily in the waysmost people would think. Lots of different thingswere going on. Among them, I was in the processof breaking up with Michael (Bartels, a Germanauto racer), and seven years of history is a lot toundo. Also, my father told us this summer that hewas going to get remarried.

In terms of tennis, I had so many nagging prob-lems going into the Grand Slam season that I hadno expectations at all. I played only one clay-courtevent before Roland Garros, my back was hurtingagain, and, worst of all, I had no confidence becausemy practice and playing time were minimal. So Ijust went out and played, with a clear mental imageof what I wanted to do - just go for my shots andsee what happens. A lot of times in the past thatdidn't work. In Paris, it did. It all came together inan unexpected way.

Did you have any sense that the clock was tick-ing, winding down to the end of your career?

I've heard that clock for a few years now. Forquite a while, I had been asking myself if I was stillgoing out there for the right reasons, which are togive myself to the game completelyand have fun. After that high in Paris,I had ^something immediate to lookforward to: Wimbledon. I just kept

going, without thinking very much about the futureat all. I suppose people were surprised when I saidI wouldn't be back after I lost to Lindsay (Davenport)in the Wimbledon final. But to me that definitelywas the end of something. I felt so much joy afterexpecting so little. I was so satisfied. That's proba-bly why my motivation finally left me for good whenthat great run ended.

When I went home after Wimbledon, I felt emp-ty toward tennis, and that sensation didn't change.When I arrived in the States two weeks later, I hadto fill out the usual form for customs, telling howlong I was going to stay in the U.S. I figured it out- with the U.S. Open it would be nine weeks. But Iwrote down five.

After Mahwah (a New Jersey exhibition), mynext scheduled event was in San Diego. I didn'twant to leave Boca Raton (Florida, where Graf has

a home). I still didn't feel like playing. I did finallyget on the plane - I just thought I had to go thereto be absolutely sure about quitting, because I wasgetting tired of the dialogue I was conducting withmyself. But once I got to San Diego, I knew for sure.

I pulled out of the event because of a strain ina groin muscle, but that was a minor thing. Mymind was made up and I haven't questioned thedecision to retire since then, not even for a secondof a second.

Most of us have our youth, college, and then theserious business of a career. You've had a career intennis since you first started hitting a tennis ball atage four. Has that made it harder or easier to stopat age 30?

It's easier, because I have so much to look for-ward to, things I've fantasised about doing for solong. I was tempted at various times during my career

to just disappear, to do things I really wanted. NowI can. For example, the day after the press confer-ence (in Germany) announcing my retirement, Ihopped on a plane to Edinburgh, Scotland, to spendthree days at the Fringe festival (an offbeat arts andmusic festival featuring mostly unconventional enter-tainers). I just decided to go, alone, and met someBritish friends there.

We all know how well you handled pressure, butwas there more going on under the surface thanmet the eye?

Oh, a lot. Maybe I handled pressure well, but itput a big strain on me. Especially because I alwaystried to be really professional-. I had a high standard,and if I didn't meet it, I tried harder still. You knowwhat I wish sometimes? That I found a little more"easy-ness" about tennis. Sure, I tried to take pres-sure off; I went to the art galleries and museums

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and such. But still, tennis occupied my mind toomuch. The eating routine, the going-to-sleep rou-tine, the waking-up routine. The schedule. It was acompulsion.

Well, it certainly got you in pretty good shape.Are you flattered when people talk about what greatlegs you have?

Sure! Who wouldn't be thrilled to hear that? ButI've always been scared of having too many mus-cles, and I prefer being thinner than I often wasduring my career. One of the nice things about retir-ing is that I don't have to eat so much anymore. Toplay my best, I always had to weigh more than Iwanted. I always felt I had to eat; I was always try-ing to get the energy back. I've lost a few kilos nowand I feel better.

Up to and including 1988, when you won all fourGrand Slams and an Olympic Gold Medal, your worldrevolved totally around tennis. But over the nextdecade, that bubble was ruptured by three trau-matic events, " " ' ' ' ' 'paternity scai

Yeah, I wNot only witherage and allof the blue. A.Q: Did that efather?

It made mnever been coin the best animagine howthis woman (1reputed Germwho claimedof her child) citournament. (timed to creatGermany.

I remembterday. I had tc(Seles) in the fevent and

absolutely no desire to set foot on the court. I final-ly decided to play, and I lost, badly. When I got backinto the locker room, I smashed my racquet againstthe wall. I hit it so hard that I made a hole in thewall. It was the first and last time I ever did such athing. I guess that shows how difficult it was.

In some ways, my career changed for good afterthat. I wasn't ever the most open person, or themost communicative. This only made it worse, andfor a long time. Sure, some very big mistakes weremade by my father, and I wouldn't deny that. But Ialso had a very hard time with how sensationallythings were portrayed, and how they were just putout there for all the world to see, with very littleconcern for me or my family. It became a big partof everything I was doing, and I felt that was wrong.

Over the years, your father would have some oth-er problems, including alcoholism. Did you ever feelthat you were responsible for any or all of his trou-

bles?

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ated by me. But ultimately that wasn't where I putthe blame. Of course, you ask yourself in varioussituations, "What part did I play," "What could Ihave done differently to maybe prevent all this fromhappening?" But it wasn't like we didn't try, like wethought the drinking was OK and just looked theother way. But people don't always respond or com-mit to changing until something happens withinthemselves. That didn't happen. Maybe I shouldhave taken a stronger, more absolute position. Idon't know. Honestly, I'm not sure I was strongenough at the time to handle it any differently.

Do you ever cry?I cry a lot. I do. Yeah, I've cried after losing ten-

nis matches, but that was early in my career. I haven'tcried over a tennis match for years. I cried recentlywhen I saw the movie The Sixth Sense, when themain character, a little boy who sees and commu-nicates with ghosts, tries to explain to his motherwhy he's so scared. The ghost of her mother - hisgrandmother - told him the secret of a falling outbetween the two women. I guess I cry when thingstouch my heart.

Traumatic event No. 2: In April 1993, a deranged

able to get through. What is your final word on thatchain of events?

I don't want to replay what happened thenbecause, as it happens, I saw Monica's mother, Esther,recently. We talked a little. And at some point, I'mhoping that maybe Monica and I will be able to talkabout the stabbing and move on from there. But Idid make an effort to talk to her after that morningin the hospital. And I understand how awful it wasfor Monica to go through that. I think it createdgreat turmoil and confusion. And I really felt hor-rible, knowing that some fan of mine did that to her.It was a devastating blow.• How do you react to being characterised as anunfeeling or cold person?

Not at all. Anyone who thinks I'm cold doesn'tknow me.• The Seles incident and its aftermath leads into thelarger issue of your relationships with your peersand the game. On a typical day at a tournament,you came, you won, you left. Did you feel any affec-tion for the game or for the other players?

There are a few parts to the answer. The firsthas to do with how shy I was at the beginning of

Friends very easily. Andays about the playing.I loved the training. I•e a crowd, even thoughit from my face or myiok the game the onlyeriously, and it wasn'tto be smiling on the

ivolved with the crowd,s another story. I alwayslg that goes on at tour-one of the reasons I

mch doubles until late1 you play doubles, youround all day betweenn know how it is. Girls: same time, I think it'shat I was much morehoosing new or differ-

March4,2000 ThtSportStai

ent practice partners than many of theother women. I enjoyed that very much.

One thing that annoys me is the com-mon assumption that I chose to be aloof from theother players so I would be intimidating, or that Ineeded to keep my distance because I was compet-ing against them. To me, a match was always justa match. Nothing more, nothing less. Never in mylife did I feel I couldn't be friendly with anotherplayer because I had to compete against her. I nev-er felt a desire or need to intimidate anybody. I wasnever standoffish for professional reasons. It wasjust my personality at the start. Later it was theneed to get away from the game when I wasn't actu-ally playing, because I was putting so much of myenergy into it.

Do you believe in God?

| Yes. I pray every night. But I8j did have a disillusioning experience< when I was 18. One of my spon-

sors gave the (Catholic) church acar so they could get an audiencewith the Pope. So we went to theVatican. They put all the people whowere going to meet the Pope in dif-ferent rooms, and he went from oneof them to the other, reading wordsoff a piece of paper.

There was nothing about reli-gion coming across, other than howmuch the church appreciated thedonation and how important it wasfor the church and business to worktogether. I was surprised and I wasdisappointed; I expected somethingcoming from the heart.

Is life more memorable for its dis-appointments or for its satisfactions?

I guess you have to look at it asa long learning experience. A lothas happened to me that I didn'texpect. You have to treat all thosethings as ways to find out moreabout yourself, and others.

So what did you learn about your-self, your family, and the world youlive in through the things you'veendured?

One thing I learned is that ten-nis helped me immensely. It was away for me to get away and put asidefamily problems, lawyers, every-thing.

You know what's strange?Sometimes when your mind is occu-pied with something else, you canplay great tennis. Not always, butsometimes. It's because the dis-traction fills so much of your mental

space that you play instinctively, with-out thinking about what you're doing.It can bring out your best tennis. If

you focus too much on tennis and everything you'redoing on the court, you can get yourself all tied up.

The third event that significantly impacted yourcareer was the tax-evasion charges against yourfather, for which he ultimately served three years injail beginning in 1995. Were you by then jaded toscandal?

I don't think you're ever prepared for those kindsof things. I got the news when I got off a plane fromAtlanta, en route to getting some physical therapyfor a knee injury. This guy travelling with me said,"Look, there's your brother Michael." I had this ter-rible feeling, because at the time Michael was livingin New York, with his pregnant wife, Elaine. (Michael,

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now 28, is a commercial and film producer). Myfirst reaction was that something went wrong withthe pregnancy. I went right over to him and he justsaid, "Father's in jail. It has something to do withtaxes." So it started all over again.

One of the most frustrating things is that whenever I had a big problem, like that one, I just want-ed to step back from it so I could evaluate the situationobjectively, but I couldn't do that. I've lived, uncom-fortably, in the spotlight. I couldn't escape into mywork, because the press was always there, ready toremind me, wanting answers or comments, oftenbefore I was ready to give them.

Your silence during this time probably led somepeople to assume that you tacitly approved of yourfather's manipulation of your finances. Did you knowwhat he was doing?

I didn't know anything about my money, nevermind the more complicated issues of managing it.I was just too young. But I got smarter, fast. It changedmy view of financial things. I have a lady who workson my taxes now, and I've gotten interested in thingslike my investments. It's actually fun.

Before, I took money for granted. So much wasfocused on my tennis. Whatever else anyone saysabout my father, he did a good job of keeping mefree to concentrate on tennis.

We know a lot - maybe too much - about yourfather, but we don't know a great deal about yourmom, Heidi.

My mother is extremely warm, caring, and lov-ing. She has always been completely supportive ofme.

She can take this machine apart (Graf points atthe tape recorder) and, without even looking at theservice manual, put it back together again. I thinkI have two left hands when it comes to practical thingslike that, and if that's the case, then she has tworight hands.

Apart from that, she can spend hours on the com-puter, chatting with friends, helping to operate myWeb site (Stefanie-Graf.com). We're very conscien-tious about the Web site. My mother reads a lot ofthe mail that comes through on it and often showsit to me.

Mother also cooks very well. My favourite dishof hers is pancakes. Schnitzel dishes also. She real-ly likes sports, too. She was a good club-level tennisplayer Unfortunately, after Michael was born, shedeveloped back problems. Her vertebrae were shift-ing downward. It was so painful that she decided tohave an operation, even though there was a 50 per-cent chance she would end up paralysed.

Injuries have played a prominent role in yourcareer. You were such a prodigy: when did you firsthave a sense of your own mortality?

That was in 1994, when my back went out. Itwas very painful for a few months and then it justdisappeared. It came and went until I had my last

knee operation, in 1997. It comes from a bone spur.It's so unusual that when a doctor sees it, he callsall his colleagues over and says, "Wow, come checkthis out, you won't believe it."

The pain only became unmanageable if I did alot of running. Unfortunately, I like to run. I've beenclocked a few times by trainers from the Germansports establishment. I've been told that I mighthave had a chance at an Olympic career in the 800-metre event. But I haven't been able to jog for quitesome time, even though now and then I try.

Fortunately, I can play tennis for hours straight,and the on-court work - hitting balls and playingpoints - is what I like best.

At the worst of times, physically, how arduouswas it for you to prepare and play a match?

Well, it always took a lot of time. And a lot ofAdvil. On a typical day, I might want to practice,say, two hours. When you add another two or threehours of physical therapy and treatment to the rou-tine, before and after your workout, it makes forquite a full day.

Then there was the endless search for new ordifferent therapies. I've done a lot of that, and foundsome pretty wild techniques. There's one therapy,called Schroepfen, that I've undergone a few times in

March 4,2000 The Sportstar

Japan with this doctor who doesn't speak any Englishat all. he uses a small instrument to make tiny holesin the skin where you have an injury or pain, andthen he applies a kind of suction ball to the area.Theoretically, the ball sucks out the bad blood, butit also leaves a black-and-blue mark wherever it'splaced. When I came back from a session and peo-ple saw me with all these marks, they would beastonished, like "What happened to you?" I saw theJapanese doctor again earlier this year, for an armproblem. When I returned to Germany and saw myown doctor, she looked at the marks and asked whatI'd done to myself. When I explained the therapy,she just started cracking up.

I've done things like that partly because just thethought of an injection screws me up so badly. Ihate injections.

Even with your ailments, you won 22 Grand Slamtitles, just two short of Margaret Court's record. Youalways denied thinking about breaking her record.How could you not have thought about it?

Of course I was aware of Court's record. Everybodykept reminding me, even if I wanted to forget it. Butbelieve it or not, breaking the record was never agoal of mine, and doing it or not made absolutelyno difference to me. I'm comfortable with what I didachieve, and I'm much more about feeling than doingthese days. And what I feel is that I have nothingleft. I really believe that. So it doesn't matter, doesit?

You'll go down as one of the greatest players ever.Yet your game was in many ways unorthodox, evenhomemade, with that high service toss, that latepreparation on your forehand. Do you think youwould have had a better record if you'd been trainedto play a more classic style?

So much of my game was in place, and habitu-al to me, by the time I began to play at the top level.It would have been difficult to change. The onlything I feel I would have done differently was to devel-op more of a topspin backhand. I worked on thatover the years, and everybody always talked aboutit. But when it was really important in a match, Ialways relied on my slice.

If I had to start all over, I would love to have atwo-handed backhand. I know it would cut downmy reach, but with my speed, I could have made upfor that. What it would have given me is a real weaponfor returning serve.

You're so efficient and practical, as a player andseemingly as a person. Did you have any supersti-tions or eccentricities about your training rituals orgear?

When I was young, my father drilled into methat all racquets are the same. But I did slowly getinto the habit of putting the six or eight racquets inmy bag in a certain order, with the one that felt bestclosest to the outside. Sometimes my coach, HeinzGunthardt, would run over to grab a racquet to hit

with and I would be like, "Wait, Heinz! Which rac-quet did you grab?" I did like to string my WilsonPro Staff 7.1 much tighter than most other women,at 29-1/2 kilos (65 pounds), which Heinz always saidwas much too tight for the head size (85 squareinches) of the frame. Usually, I would use one framethrough two or three string jobs and then I'd retireit. I have stacks of old frames somewhere at home.

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What was the last bookyou read?

635 Days in Ice by Alfred Lasing. It's an amaz-ing story about crossing Antarctica in 1913. Ajournalist friend of mine in Germany also gave mea volume of (German novelist) Max Fritsch's diaries.I delve into that now and then.

For those readers who don't have an innate affec-

tion for pets, why do you love dogs?Anything that comes to you so natural, so pure,

is hard to explain. I'm sure it has something to dowith growing up with a dog. I wasn't very outgo-ing, so my dog, a boxer named Conny, was very specialto me. I feel good around animals, and love animalsin general. And I think they feel all right aroundme, too. Even bad dogs seem to love me. There wasa particularly aggressive boxer named Ben at the clubwhere I played as a little girl, and the lady who attend-ed the courts was always warning people not to gonear the dog. One morning, my mother was look-ing everywhere for me at the courts and she finallyfound me, sitting next to the "bad" dog, petting itand playing with it.

Some people suggest that those who love dogs doso because they're so obedient. And you've alwayshad a reputation for refusing to do things that did-n't feel right. All of which suggests that you're acontrol freak. Any truth to that?

I don't think so. I've always wanted to havesomebody lead me, but maybe I only let it happento a certain point. I do feel a need to be in a com-fortable environment, and if I don't have it, I'm outof there.

I may have a different perspective from mostpeople on this subject. I've always been asked to domany things; it's part of my job. Every one of thosethings is important to the person trying to do themwith me, whether it's an interview, an appearance,a telephone call, whatever. Many times, I say "no"to something, and the person trying to make it hap-pen just keeps asking, and explaining, and after twomore times I say "yes" to it. I can't tell you howmany times that has happened. Funny as it maysound, I'm actually feeling like I want to be more,well, persistent about doing what I want.

At almost any given time in your career, youcould have arranged to have a date with just aboutany man on the planet. Yet you seem to have led anexceptionally low-key romantic life, at least untilAndre. Weren't you ever boy or man-crazy?

Boys didn't even come into my mind until I wasabout 20 years old. I think the tennis kept me toobusy and focused. My shyness played a part, too.Plus, I've never been one to go out for a wild nightof dancing, whatever, with someone I barely know.I always looked for long-range relationships. I'm inter-ested in building trust, letting a relationship grow,getting comfortable with each other. And that was-n't easy with my way of life.

I've only had two serious boyfriends before Andre.One was an American photographer, whose nameI'd rather keep private, whom I saw for about fouryears early in my career. And then I was with Michael(Bartels) for seven years. It's a long time, which iswhy this breakup has been very tough on both ofus. We had some intense times in that period, andI have to say he was always there for me. But it got

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to the point where it just wasn't work-ing anymore.

Is having a family of your own impor-tant to you?

I guess I'm finding out about myselfin that way right now. I think you can'talways plan what happens. But to tellyou the truth, I don't know if I want tohave kids or not. I guess you're sup-posed to want to have kids, but the realityis that it hasn't been something that'spreoccupied my thoughts, even duringquiet times. But I'm more conscious ofchildren and the joy they can bring toyour life because of my brother's twokids, Torren 4, and Talia, 2.1 really lovethem. I guess life just takes people ondifferent roads, and right now, I don'tknow where my road is taking me.

What's your most precious posses-sion in the world?

I don't have one. I don't care thatmuch about things. Mostly, I care aboutfamily, friends, and my four dogs. Twoof them are Schaferhundes, or Germanshepherds. Max and Dusty. Then I haveJoshua, a golden retriever who lives inFlorida, and Saskia, a mixed-breed strayI found at the Moscow Airport whenshe was just a few weeks old and insist-ed on bringing home with me.

No favourite trophies or photos in yourhouse?

Right now, I don't even have a house.I live in an apartment in Heidelberg,about 50 miles south of Frankfurt, andI can't even have my dogs with me.They stay at my father's house. But I'min the process of looking for my ownplace, in Germany, even though I planto keep a home here in the States.

But no, I didn't keep one trophy, onepicture, not even one racquet, tennisskirt, or can of balls at my home. I usedto keep my tennis equipment and clothing there while Iwas still playing, but not anymore. Most of my tennis-related things are at my office in Mannheim.

What's the single biggest thing you feel you missedout on by being so dedicated to your career?

Time. Time to be spontaneous, to take things as theycome. But I don't fool myself. I've always accepted thefact that because of tennis, I couldn't allow myself to bespontaneous.

What, in the immediate future, are you most excitedabout?

Finding a home where my dogs can always be withme, for one. Then I'm excited about horseback ridingand also about scuba diving. That's my next project.

I look forwardto getting more

involved instudying and

practicingphotography.I'm already

quite involvedin junior tennisdevelopment inGermany andwill also workmore with the

charityChildren forTomorrow.

Ever since I did an underwater com-mercial for Apollonaris (a popular brandof mineral water in Germany), I've want-ed to dive. I have a desire to go downand swim with the sharks. I have a seriesof videotapes from a Discovery Channelseries on sharks. I'm intrigued by thembecause they have this amazing powerand strength, but also this elegance thatI find very attractive.

I look forward to getting moreinvolved in studying and practicing pho-tography. I'm already quite involved injunior tennis development in Germanyand will also work more with the char-ity Children for Tomorrow. Theorganisation helps kids who have suf-fered trauma from war, persecution, andviolence. I first heard of it a few yearsago from a doctor in Hamburg. Eversince, I've wanted to make a contribu-tion. I'm on the three-person board; Icontribute money and time trying topublicise it. In October I'll be going toHarare (Zimbabwe), where the organi-sation works with impoverished children,to shoot footage for a publicity campaign.• You've been advising and, with thehelp of sponsors, financing the careersof three junior girls in Germany. What'sthe current status of the Steffi Graf team?

Two of the original three girls (MiaBuric, 17, and Caroline Raba, 16) are con-tinuing to train and play junior events,but the third one, Julia Biffar, recentlyquit the game. And the truth is that Iadmire her decision, which took a lot ofstrength to make. She was just 16 andworking hard, but she realised that shedidn't have it to go where she wanted.She told me, "I had certain goals and expec-

tations, and no matter how hard I work,I'm still too far from realising them."

It must be hard for a kid at that ageto be realistic, to give up on a dream. It took a lot ofcourage for her to do that and I wish her all the luck inthe world in whatever else she tries. But I still have thetwo girls, and we're in the process of bringing a num-ber of new, young players on board.

You sound sympathetic toward Biffar. Do you feel youknow anything about failure?

I know very well what it is like to fail. I definitely feellike I've failed in a few things in my life. I've never beenvery confident, and that showed a lot of times in my fail-ing to communicate. Let's put it this way: A lot of times,I failed at communicating on different levels - with myfamily, with the press, with others, But I'm trying, andnow I have time to work on that too.