Jean Agassi, prodigy progeny of the great Andre, stood at the baseline. His racquet was light as a feather in his hand, an extension of his arm, and he crouched on the balls of his feet, ready. His opponent stood. It was the mysterious contender's first serve, and he only stood. Ball in hand, racquet low, posture relaxed, he stood.
When a minute had passed, Jean straightened. "What's going on," he shouted, "he's not serving! Ref, isn't this some kind of foul?" The referee indicated she'd heard him. She called Jean's opponent over and exchanged a few words. When she returned to her stand, she called Jean over. "I'm convinced it's legal," she said.
Face set in irritation, Jean returned to his baseline. His posture was tight now, his body less a coiled snake and more an over-wound spring. His racquet felt like a weight in his hand, no longer an appendage but a prosthetic. He waited. And waited. His opponent only stood.
The ball struck his court. Before Jean could move, it was past him. His opponent hadn't moved. "What happened?" he cried. The ref called him over again.
She said, "They also serve who only stand and wait."