If she's finished, how will Davenport be remembered?

	Lindsay Davenport has never bought into the sex appeal marketing of women's tennis. David Callow/SI
	MAILBAG Jon Wertheim will answer questions from SI.com users in his mailbag every Wednesday. Your name: Your e-mail address: Your home town: Enter your question:

Hi everyone. So here's your reward for showing some interest in tennis during this offseason, such as it is. I have a brand new Babolat racket that I will send to the person who comes up with the best suggestion for improving professional tennis.

A few weeks ago one of you suggested a "mixed doubles" competition at Davis Cup ties after the outcome was decided. Great idea. Years ago one of you asked me why players don't hit autographed balls into the stands after matches, a suggestion that has since been incorporated. You get the point.

Have at it. And though there's only one grand prize, we'll promise to forward the top 10 suggestions to ATP and WTA headquarters.

Onward...

Now that she's announced her pregnancy and is unlikely ever to play again, how do you assess the career of Lindsay Davenport?
-- Lori, Chicago

Lot of questions this week on Davenport, who announced that she is pregnant with her first child. For the record, she didn't officially retire. While you have to believe she's played her final match, you never say never.

Anyway, I think Davenport was a wonderful player -- a sure Hall of Famer -- who benefited from soft expectations. Born within weeks of Jennifer Capriati, unrelentingly normal in the face of the usual WTA hijinks, always ambivalent about her celebrity, Davenport was never burdened with much pressure. While her ground strokes were immaculately struck gems (has a player ever used depth so effectively?), her limited athleticism was always going to limit her success.

As a result, when Davenport won three majors, all those hard-court titles and had a time-share several years at No. 1, it was cast as overachievement, not least in her mind. She was never programmed for greatness; when she found it, she was elated.

It seemed to me that when she got a little hungrier -- "Maybe I should set the bar higher" -- things got more complicated. The first three times she appeared in a Grand Slam final, she won the prize. After winning the 2000 Australian, she came up empty, sometimes under devastating circumstances. Her body language and tendency toward self-flagellation suggested that maybe she was better off when she set lower standards for herself. Still, she ought to walk off the stage proud, having achieved more than anyone would have predicted when she first turned pro.

Beyond the tennis itself, I always admired Davenport for her sensibilities. At a time when the WTA tried (with arguable success) to marry tennis with sex, attitude and entertainment, she was cast as the den mother, the adult who looked on bemusedly as Anna Kournikova invited the wolf-whistles, the Williams sisters became seduced by Hollywood and Martina Hingis talked trash. Plenty of times Davenport was able to slip out a side door while the typical WTA drama/melodrama took center stage. Yet the prevailing glam culture (and a defiant refusal to pose in a bikini) may have hurt her Q-rating. But to the end, her dignity quotient was conspicuously high.

Now that Andre Agassi has been relaxing for nearly four months since his retirement, is there any word on how his back is feeling? Can he stand up straight, play with his kids, etc.? I'd hate to think that he will be permanently hobbling in pain.
-- Rich, New York City

Seems he's doing better from when we last saw him.