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August § The Common Test / 2016-02-16 21:04:46
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MsFitNZ § Towards A Theory of Secondary Literacy / 2015-11-03 21:23:21
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Greg Linch § A leaky rocketship / 2014-11-04 18:05:52
Robin § A leaky rocketship / 2014-11-04 05:11:02
P. Renaud § A leaky rocketship / 2014-11-04 04:13:09
Jay H § Matching cuts / 2014-10-02 02:41:13

The Book of Basketball
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I bought my brother a copy of ESPN sportswriter Bill Simmons’s The Book of Basketball for his birthday, and he talked it up so much that I wound up buying a copy of it for myself. I’ve been reading it over the past week, and it is a delight. If you like basketball, and/or the history of basketball, or smart, snarky sportswriting, any of them, the least little bit, then you’ve got to nab a copy. In thr introduction, Malcolm Gladwell compares the book to the basketball equivalent of the original Bill James Baseball Abstract, and he’s right — it’s that nerdy (nerdier), that funny (funnier), and that good.

One of Simmons’s charms is that he will do things like define criteria for the NBA’s MVP award, justify those criteria, and then go through every year in NBA history to figure out if the right guy won. Here’s an excerpt from that chapter that gives you some of the flavor of the book:

Question no. 2 [for determing the MVP]: In a giant pickup game with every NBA player available and two knowledgable fans forced to pick five-man teams, with their lives depending on the game’s outcome, who would be the first player picked based on how everyone played that season? Translation: who’s the alpha dog that season? The Finals answer this question many times… but not every time. We thought Kobe was the alpha dog in 2008, but after watching him wilt against Boston in the finals — compared to the way LeBron carried a crappy Cavs team to seven games against Boston and nearly stole Game 7 — it’s unclear. This question reduces everything to the simplest of terms: we’re playing to 11, I need to win, I can’t screw around with this choice, and if I don’t pick this guy, he’s gonna get pissed and kick our asses as the second pick. I mean, imagine the look on ’97 MJ’s face if someone picked ’97 Karl Malone before him in a pickup game. It would have been like Michael Corleone in Godfather Part II when Kay informed him about her abortion.

That’s the other Simmons signature — LOTS of pop culture references. The only thing this guy seems to do besides watch basketball is watch movies, over and over again, which endears him to me in ways I can’t quite express.

3 comments

Ryan says…

Simmons is a shell of his former self. The combination of ESPN neutering his style and his success going to his squeaky head have ruined a one-time revolutionary voice.

Tim Carmody says…

You should check out the book. Success going to his head – yeah, maybe — it’s definitely a book that drips audacity. But there isn’t anything neutered about his style. There’s room to breathe here, and he lets it rip.

One beef I have with the book — it’s pretty poorly copy-edited. Sometimes there are years or team names that from context are pretty obviously wrong, like when he says 76ers when he clearly means Warriors, or talks about a team exchanging its 1984 pick for a pick four years later in… 1984. Sloppy, and maybe rushed to deadline.

Tim Carmody says…

Other fair warning for Simmons’s book: it is unabashedly a book written by a straight guy FOR other straight guys (I might add further, straight guys 40 and under). Lots of locker-room-style references to strippers and sex acts, regular disparagement of the WNBA, vaguely defensive homophobia, analogies linking Jason Kidd’s woeful shooting but otherwise first-class game to a gorgeous woman with small breasts… It reads a lot like the way guys talk on and around the basketball court. Some 400 pages in, the cumulative effect of that is pretty grating, especially when the humor of it falls flat. At least for me.

That, and this thing is really, really badly copyedited. I mean, major mistakes every dozen pages or so. One I just read refers to Willis Reed as “Wilt,” in a sentence that later mentions Wilt Chamberlain. Come on.

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