PARIS -- So much for the new, improved, Mr. Nice Guy, Mr. Wonderful, Mr.Try, Andre Agassi. For that matter, so much for the new Bill Clinton.

Everything was moving along merveilleusement for Agassi in the quarterfinal round of the French Open on Wednesday, Double A kicking the escargot out of some deluded homeboy who thought he had a prayer of stopping Agassi from adding a second straight Grand Slam to his 2001 campaign. Agassi had taken a 6-1 first set from Sebastien Grosjean (No relation to Jon Sebastian or even Jean Valjean) in about 12 seconds; his prairie home companion, Steffi Graf, was beaming lovingly in the stands; the crowd was restlessly figuring the match was just another pathetic anniversary of old Uncle Sam getting over on France -- what did they call it the first time, D-Day?

And then suddenly something truly bizarre happened. Clinton -- according to Australian TV, "the former vice president of the United States" -- strolled into the, ironically enough, "presidential tribune" and took a seat in the first row overlooking the north end of the court. Bon jour, Bubba. Au revoir, Andre. Maybe it was because Clinton was smiling and waving to the crowd as if he was running for King of the World. Maybe it was because Clinton was wearing this horrid orange polo shirt, as if he was a cheerleader for Clemson, or somebody. Maybe it was because Andre was terrified Slick Willie would make a move, take one of his slick hits on Steffi. Who knew? But if you were a Frenchman -- or woman -- Who cares?

The only thing that mattered was that Agassi immediately stopped not only winning, but thinking ... reacting ... coping ... and nearly competing. Grosjean started whipping his short-backswing, slingshot forehand at impossible angles and to all far corners of la terre battu, and the rejuvenated mauler from Marseilles won sets two and three by identical 6-1 scores in about the time Agassi needs to comb his hair. Double A was so ensconsed in Panic Station Zero late in the third he started chipping and charging -- "It was me, who was deesturbing heem," the charming Grosjean was to say later -- and then double-faulted to lose the set.

By this time, Clinton had been booed heartily by the crowd for not participating in The Wave that enveloped the Roland Garros center court. As Agassi doubled, Clinton slapped his forehead -- in the manner of Ricky ("You got some 'splainin' to do") Ricardo -- and promptly left the stadium. Of course, it was Willy himself who had to come up with some 'splainin'. The crowd, feeling he had abandoned his own guy, this time exploded in such prolonged catcalls, Clinton must have thought he wandered into the Lewinsky family reunion.

"I didn't notice [Clinton]. I didn't know he was there," Agassi said later.

Yeah, right, Schick Extreme Boy. And nobody at Roland Garros noticed Grosjean taking the favorite apart, pushing him all around the clay with not only his rocket forehand but a change-of-pace sliced backhand as well as a speed gear that left Agassi swallowing mounds of the bronzed dirt. Agassi briefly recovered in the fourth set to hold a couple of points for a possible 3-0 lead, but Grosjean held him off, turned the tide and took a 3-2 lead himself. Enter Clinton again. Nobody booed because nobody noticed this time.

When their new hero kept pounding Agassi with superior wheels, 10 aces and an unnerving flair for lob winners -- the Frenchman's disguised bombers had Agassi dead in his tracks as if he had no directional compass -- it was soon over, 1-6, 6-1, 6-1, 6-3, and a nation rose as one to the overjoyed Grosjean.

None too soon for Agassi, who played the last few games as if he was double-parked, refusing to work for rallies and slapping balls into the bottom of the net. Strange snapshot: Agassi, a scared American neophyte wanting out; Grosjean, a dark-goateed, cap-backwards Marseilles mobster resembling Tony Montana wallowing in his favorite snow in Scarface. Agassi thought he was going to intimidate this guy? "All I have in this world is my balls and my life," Tony growled. "You f--- with me; you f---ing with the best."

It's not as if Agassi hadn't known about his conqueror, as if Monsieur Grosjean has ever been a tennis version of Mister Greenjeans; in other words, a hump. At last year's U.S. Open he took Marat Safin to a fifth-set tiebreak after which Safin went on to win the tournament. At this year's Australian Open he had two match points against his countryman pal, Arnaud Clement, to advance to the final against Agassi. Grosjean turned 23 last week. In 1996 he was the No. 1 junior in the world in both singles and doubles. Now he's No. 1 in France, No. 10 in the world.

"I had really good sensation today," he said.

Grosjean also said he was surprised Agassi's level dropped so much after the first set. Into the, uh, tank?

"Maybe he was thinking I will not fight," Grosjean said. "It was strange because sometimes he hits the ball really hard. But, you know, like [then] tanking sometimes. Maybe he wasn't happy the way of the game wasn't like the first set."

Agassi was not asked about tanking. But then Double A hardly answered anything. He was not officially timed, but he was whisked in and out of the press room faster than a speeding Sebastien.

Andre, have you any explanation??

"You have to ask Grosjean."

What do you wish you could have done?

"Won the match."

How much higher were your expectations?

"About three matches higher."

Was there anything particular giving you trouble?

"Yes, Sebastien Grosjean."

But nothing particular on your side?

" Him, directly. No."

Were you conscious of rushing?

"No."

You weren't?

"No."

You won the first set, then Clinton comes. You lose 6-1, 6-1, second and third. He goes. You go up 2-0 in the fourth. Then he comes back, it's 3-2 to Grosjean. Any relation?

"Sounds like you have it all figured out."

Yeah, sounds like at least some of us did.

Curry Kirkpatrick, a senior writer for ESPN The Magazine, first covered the French Open in 1976. E-mail him at curry.kirkpatrick@espnmag.com.