At Last, Tarango's In Paris, With Great Love Story

PARIS - You can check the telephone book. He isn't listed. Most likely the last Tarango in Paris.

"You wouldn't think there'd be any others," Jeff Tarango said.

Tarango was here to talk about what he calls a great love story. His, naturally.

He and Benedicte call it the romance of the Three Ps - pancakes, pumpkins and, of course, Paris. It's the story of how a sentimental dude from Los Angeles like fell in love at first sight with a shy French girl, wooed her, pursued her and altered his life. Maybe forever.

"France is definitely making me more patient," he said. "And you know I am not a patient guy."

They were married near the banks of the Mediterranean in a 16th-century stone church in the little town of Pezenas in a French Catholic ceremony.

"Humongous," said Tarango.

"So many people and too much food. It took us five and a half hours to finish dinner."

There are no best men at French Catholic weddings, only witnesses, and Jim Courier, Patrick McEnroe, Jared Palmer and several frat brothers from Jeff's days at Stanford were there to attest that the marriage took place.

But we're jumping ahead too much here. Let's return to the beginning.

Jeff Tarango, 24, "the only kid who grew up in Manhattan Beach (Calif.) who doesn't know how to surf," spent three years at Stanford, was All American three times, led his team to two NCAA titles and (note this, John McEnroe) actually went to class, where he studied philosophy and did a lot of creative writing.

He turned pro in 1989 and richly has earned a reputation as a player of no distinction, except for his occasional outbursts. He once reached No. 42 in the rankings (in 1992), finished last year at No. 79 and is currently No. 70. I think you get the picture.

But he always has been one of the most thoughtful, intelligent and engaging players in tennis. Somewhere down the line I see him as a coach to the stars, in the way Brad Gilbert has become a court guru to Andre Agassi.

It was, in fact, Gilbert with whom he was exchanging a little blue vocabularly one day in 1992 when he cautioned his friend: "Watch your language, Brad. That girl over there can hear us. And I'm going to marry her someday."

Her name: Benedicte Carriere, who works as a transport liaison to the French Open, arranging cars and van service for players and officials.

In November, he invited her to a Bill Clinton-George Bush election party. She said she wasn't sure she could go, though Tarango later learned through his network of spies that she bought a new dress the day he asked her.

"It was a typical first date. Nothing happy. We just got to know each other. But there wasn't a second date for another year. Everything goes slowly in Paris. The most used expression in this city is `This is not possible."'

At the French Open in 1993, Tarango found what he believes to be the only pancake house in Paris. He asked Benedicte for a car to go to this restaurant to indulge his greatest food craving. She said, "This is not possible."

He walked there. The next day he asked for a car again. Denied, he took a taxi. By the third day, she agreed to give him a car if he brought back some of this fabulous American food.

"Unfortunately, I like pancakes so much there was almost nothing left of her portion when I got back," he said.

He made up for it by introducing her to a great American custom - Halloween. "I sent her a pumpkin with a rubber spider taped to the bottom. She thought it was cute."

By November, he invited her to his parents' home in Los Angeles for Thanksgiving dinner. She accepted, though seemed slightly traumatised by the size of this meal.

Things were blooming now. In February of 1993, back in Manhattan Beach with Beni, he resolved to ask her to marry him on a flight to the San Francisco Bay area for a short vacation.

"I was pretty nervous," said Tarango. "I was pounding down beers in the airport bar, which is not like me. She could sense something was wrong.

"She got so upset she got on the plane early and took my seat just to get to me. She knows I like the aisle seat and she usually sits at the window. I called the airline attendant to complain that this woman was sitting in my seat."

When he had finished playing that game, "I just about leaped on her and starting kissing her. A couple of airline attendants came over." That's when he dropped to one knee and asked her to marry him.

With attendants asking if everything was all right, Beni replied: "Of course."

The rest of the passengers applauded. He and Beni drank champagne. On July 4, 1994, they were married. "Independence Day," Tarango said proudly. "This marriage will be our first and last."

It has a nice start. And, as they occasionally say in Paris: "Some things are possible."