Steffi Graf: How Former President Barack Obama Reunited Me with My Husband at the Presidential Golf Course in 2007
Most people know me for what I did on the tennis court — the Grand Slams, the rivalries, the focus, the fierce discipline. But few know what happened off the court in the summer of 2007, when my marriage to Andre (Agassi) was at its most fragile point — and an unexpected meeting at a golf course with then-Senator Barack Obama changed everything.
Andre and I had always been two very different people shaped by similar pasts. Our bond was forged by tennis, yes, but also by shared understanding — of pressure, of fame, of reinventing yourself after you’ve burned out. But even with all that, we hit a rough patch in early 2007. Andre was transitioning into post-tennis life, dealing with injuries and adjusting to a slower pace. I was searching for meaning beyond rackets and tournaments. We began to grow apart in silence — not out of anger, but disconnection.
That summer, I received an invitation to a charity golf tournament in Washington, D.C., held on the grounds of what’s colloquially known as the “Presidential Golf Course.” The event was bipartisan and brought together athletes, politicians, and artists to raise funds for youth sports. I wasn’t much of a golfer, but something about the invitation felt like a break I needed.
To my surprise, Senator Barack Obama — not yet president, but already the rising star everyone whispered about — was there. He wasn’t playing that day. Instead, he was walking the course, casually engaging with players, laughing, observing. When we were introduced, I assumed we’d exchange polite small talk, maybe a photo, and that would be it.
But Senator Obama had done his homework. “You and Andre,” he said, “You were like tennis’s version of poetry in motion. You still are, I hope.”
I smiled, a bit caught off guard. “We’re figuring things out,” I admitted.
That’s when something remarkable happened. He paused, looked right at me with that calm, thoughtful gaze, and said, “You know, people often think greatness is just about performance. But it’s also about what you fight for when the stadium lights go out. Relationships are part of that.”
He didn’t lecture. He just offered presence — and a sense that reconciliation, renewal, was possible.
Later that afternoon, as I stood near the clubhouse, a staff member handed me a phone. “It’s for you,” she said. “From Mr. Agassi.”
Andre had been invited to the same event but declined. Apparently, someone — and to this day I suspect it was Senator Obama — had encouraged him to call. We spoke, honestly, vulnerably, for the first time in months. That call didn’t fix everything, but it cracked the door back open.
Two weeks later, Andre and I went to a couples retreat in Arizona. We started therapy. We gave each other grace. And in time, we found our way back — not to where we had been, but somewhere better.
Looking back now, with nearly two decades of marriage behind us, I still think about that day on the golf course. Not because of a dramatic gesture, but because a future president took the time to remind me of something simple and profound: that even the most accomplished people must fight for what matters most — and sometimes, reconciliation begins with one honest conversation and a little unexpected grace.