Reading Cures Madness
It’s been a while since I’ve checked in here, forgive me, it’s been a busy month. What with conducting the research necessary to put together yet another mediocre fantasy baseball team, keeping up with professional basketball, getting ready for baseball, keeping a lazy eye on hockey and football…and not to even mention postseason college basketball and the atrocity that my brackets have already become (thank you Georgetown). March has truly been mad.
If you are reading this you must be a fan of the written word as you would have had to seek this out. So I bring to you my first book review. It’s been a while since I’ve read a book that compelled me enough to want to share it but this is well worth the time of every sports fan and anybody who wants a glimpse of a world most likely quite different than their own.
The Assist by Neil Swidey (Format: Hardcover, 358pp; Publisher: PublicAffairs Publishing; Pub. Date: January 2008) is a book that, as a rabid sports lover, I was drawn to simply for the fact it was about basketball. That however serves as only a backdrop for this piece of nonfiction that turns you into true fans of an inner-city Boston high school basketball team.
The focus is on an uber-successful coach, Jack O’Brien, his intense and sometimes misunderstood devotion to his players both on and off the court, and a couple of his current star players. The team has collected state titles to open up the 2000s like they were pennies, no small task in the New England hotbed of talent. What this aging, Irish coach does and the lengths that he goes to make his players better and productive people is quite remarkable.
From taking his players on weekend college visits to places they would never think about to taking them to the eye doctor to make sure they are seeing clearly, it is clear this coach is one in a million, if not more. Now, I am a full-fledged cynic and generally cold-hearted when it comes to stories like these because it pretty much always comes out that there are no altruistic actions. So naturally I scoured the pages for signs of what the coach is getting out of this and waiting to point to something and say ‘ahhh, so that’s why he does this.’ That point never came in The Assist.
O’Brien is not married, has no children and is not particularly wealthy. He’s married to the program, his kids are the ones listed on every roster he’s had and his wealth is displayed with championship banners and in the lives of young adults who find a path to a better life through him.
The city of Boston also plays a major role and one that I might not have guessed. Maybe it is because New York, Los Angeles and Detroit grab many of the headlines for gangs, violence and overall inner-city danger but I did not realize that Boston had the problems they do – at least not to the extent that they do. O’Brien’s kids mostly come from projects and homes broken by divorce, drugs and other crippling vices. There is gunplay daily in their backyard and drugs and gangs on every corner. Stepping into the wrong neighborhood will get you stabbed or shot and failing to correctly respond to the question ‘where you from’ will net you the same result. Things that are hard to imagine as I wait for my shake at the Coldstone counter having just taken in a movie at Tyson's Corner Center.
I began reading this book because I love sports and cover high school sports for a rival local newspaper, but I finished reading it because I cared for the people in it. It’s not a difficult read and it will keep you captivated if you have any heart at all – I was surprised that I in fact do. It'll give you something to think about as you watch the Final Four and wonder where all these players came from, because at least some of them have stories like the ones in this book. So go out and pick it up or go to a Barnes & Noble and just read it for free there (not that I've ever done that personally) but beware the guy that thinks it's ok to take his shoes off in the store. There's always one.