John McEnroe says Eddie Vedder helped him by his divorce

If you’re going by a tough divorce and need a shoulder to cry on, try Eddie Vedder.

It worked for John McEnroe, in 1992, when he was newly distant from Tatum O’Neal and in severe figure went to see a New Year’s Eve Keith Richards concert, with Pearl Jam as the opener.

He finished up spending the night with Vedder, who talked the distraught father of 3 down and told him he was going to be OK. Whatever he pronounced worked: it was a branch point, says McEnroe, and he’s never lost it.

That’s one of the things we schooled from reading “But Seriously,” the inconstant tennis great’s new memoir, and a followup to his 2002 discourse “You Cannot Be Serious.”

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In the family division, McEnroe — whose separate and control battle with the drug-addicted O’Neal finished for much publication provender — reveals that he’s disloyal from his younger son Sean, whose relations with family members have been “quite turbulent.”

He speaks quickly about the headline-grabbing heroin detain of older son Kevin, who was destitute in the East Village in 2014, observant it finished him doubt what he’d finished wrong. It’s been unpleasant to watch Kevin struggle, McEnroe writes, but he’s unapproachable of “how tough he’s worked to get his life back on track.”

Not Released (NR)

Eddie Vedder of Pearl Jam talked the distraught father of 3 down and told him he was going to be OK.

(Dimitrios Kambouris/WireImage for Rock and Roll Hall)

He also reveals that his sons’ early bearing to drugs came around dad’s weed stash. McEnroe admits to apropos a complicated pot smoker after quitting the tennis circuit in the mid-’90s, ignoring second wife Patty Smyth’s requests that he cut down. And at one point, he detected that the boys — then immature teens — were dipping into his supplies. He flipped — which he now acknowledges was substantially not the best way to hoop it.

Speaking of outbursts, McEnroe says that while he wouldn’t accurately call himself a Zen master he’s calmed down extremely — yet he’s come to accept that his powder-keg picture is something he’ll never shake.

John McEnroe might’ve thrown MLB’s best rite first representation

One way to get a arise out of him: ask a selfie. He hates them  and hates when fans stop him in general. Going the respectful track with “I hatred to worry you” won’t help  he hates that, too. (So because are you bothering me, he asks.) Oh, and don’t hit him with his heading line “You can't be serious”  if he could only get by a day but conference it, he writes, it would be nirvana.

The book is out Jun 27.

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