It never ceases to amaze me how the news media can take one nugget of information and sensationalize it to the point that the rest of the story is all but forgotten. Such is the case with Andre Agassi’s new autobiography, Open. Based on the media coverage so far, you’d think that his memoir was the drugged-out sequel to Hunter S. Thompson’s Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. Did Andre even play tennis? It’s hard to tell among the buzz about his now infamous use of crystal meth. It’s all anyone wants to talk about, write about, and debate about. And if anything permeates the discussion, it’s the shocking revelation that Agassi was wigging out that his hairpiece might fall out before a tennis match.

Hopefully, though, the media’s myopic obsession won’t turn you off Agassi’s book, or at least the lengthy and engrossing excerpt in Sports Illustrated last week. Because what you learn is the profound sadness and struggle of Agassi’s life as a junior and professional tennis player.

Getty Images It's not about the hair: The myopic media is missing the real tragedy of Agassi's story - his unhappy childhood.

Up to now, when the topic of overbearing (and just plain nutty) tennis parents comes up, you’ve typically heard names such as Jim Pierce, Damir Dokic and Peter Graf. After Open, you’ll have to add Mike Agassi to the list. Yes, we knew that he pushed his son and that there was always a tension and distance between the two of them—I remember reading how Mike once threw a junior tennis trophy in the garbage to make a point to his son. But in Open, Agassi puts Mike fairly highly up on the list of aggressive, overbearing and emotionally stunted parent-coaches.

You’ll also realize just how much Agassi hated tennis. It’s not the typical “I hate my job” sort of hatred, nor does it bear any relationship to the grumbling of today’s pros that the season is too hard on their minds and bodies. Agassi’s is a deep-seeded, powerful loathing that stays with him until his last days on tour. His negative attitude toward the sport is, of course, inextricably linked to his feelings for his dad. When you’re forced to do something against your will, you’re not going to enjoy it. But what happens when you’re pushed into something so early in life by a parent hell-bent on feeding you almost 1 million balls each year from a menacingly souped up ball machine, so you can become No. 1 in the world? What kind of pressure must you feel when, as a 9-year-old, your father bets his life savings of $10,000 that you can beat football legend, and recreational tennis player, Jim Brown? How good can you feel about yourself when your father can only criticize you for losing the fourth set of the Wimbledon final, even though you won the match?

It should be enough to make anyone crack. Yet Agassi persevered, despite all this and a debilitating back problem that only added to his mental anguish and helped fueled his distaste for tennis. By the end, when even Mike’s encouraging Andre to quit because of the physical torment, Agassi believes that his father has finally come full circle—he hates tennis, too.

No doubt, if you decide to check out the except, or crack open Open when it comes out next week, you’ll find other, more uplifting moments on and off the court that go well beyond crystal meth and a guy named “Slim.” But you’ll also be hard pressed to find a sadder, almost depressing account of a person’s rise to the top of the tennis world. In that respect, Agassi’s life has at least one thing in common with Fear and Loathing—it’s a downer.

James Martin is the editor in chief of TENNIS. Follow him on Twitter.