Book review: Let me tell you a story, by Red Auerbach and John Feinstein

John Feinstein has made a career of being a "thinking man's" sportswriter.  He shot to prominence with the oustanding 1986 Season on the Brink, which detailed a season spent with Bob Knight and the Indiana Hoosiers.  Some of his other works have been critically acclaimed as well, but have on occasion - eg. The Punch - tended to be too po-faced and serious for their own good.

Let me tell you a story, a collection of tales Feinstein could have knocked out in his sleep is the perfect antithesis to such overbearing seriousness.  It describes his invitation to lunch with Red Auerbach, the former President of the Boston Celtics and acknowledged King of Boston basketball.  What the casual fan probably fails to realise is Red's assocation with Washington D.C. hoops as well.  He was an alumni of George Washington University, his wife and children (and him, during the offseason) lived there and he maintained connections with several of the city's basketball aristocracy.

The book begins with Auerbach growing older and more aware of his mortality.  He therefore decided to invest time in his closest friends, which manifested as a regular lunch with the likes of his brother Zang, secret service agents and The Best High School hoops coach of all, Morgan Wootten.  Feinstein - who was working as a columnist for the Washington Post - smelled a story, managed to get an invitation and became a regular lunch guest.  He then proceeds to describe what the lunch became for him and his compatriots.

courtesy: betterworldbooks.com

The book is named because even though there were upwards of a dozen regular diners, these were Red's lunches. He had the central seat, so he could hold court and opine about almost every issue - starting most of his stories with the words "Let me tell you about...".  The bill was also Red's, until the Celtics got wind of the events and insisted the team paid.  Red talks candidly (as if  he could speak any other way) about his time with the Celtics, the owners he worked for and even of his lack of malice at being replaced as Celtics President during the short-lived Rick Pitino era.

What impresses you so much is Red's reasoning - there were always completely logical reasons for every decision he made.  When he explains those reasons - even why he lit his trademark cigar when the Celtics had secured victory - he makes absolute sense.  (If you're wondering, he lit the cigars when the Celtics were up by a heap as a subconscious signal that his team was relaxed and not seeking to rub the victory in their opponents faces).  His tales stand in stark contrast to those of another Celtic great, Bill Russell.  As Auerbach became more acutely aware of his ageing, he became more congnizant of the importance of spending time with his friends; in stark contrast Russell became more and more arrogant, distant and spiky.

Throughout, you can't help liking Red.  It's obvious that Feinstein - and the entire Lunch crew - absolutely adored him.  He was fair, friendly and fun to be around, which in turn makes the book an easy read.  It is occasionally slightly stained by Feinstein's own opinions - what little he thinks of Rick Pitino is obvious, and his memorable description of Scottie Pippen as Scottie "I've got a headache when it matters most" Pippen are fine examples of unwanted editorialisation.

It's lightweight, but really enjoyable read.

Reposted from Books with Balls, a now sadly mostly-disregarded affiliate.

Book review: Red and Me, by Bill Russell

A few months ago I was in the book shop at the Central Station in Washington DC and happened upon a book by Bill Russell in the remainder bin. It was marked down from $24.99 to $4.99, so I bought it. It was entitled “Red and Me: My Coach, my lifelong friend”. I only recently picked it up to read and without fail, every thirty pages I was forced to exclaim to my wife how horrible a sports book it was with statements like “Now he's claiming to teach an 80-year old Auerbach about basketball from the stands!” or “I can see why it was in the remainder bin” or, less tactfully “What complete and utter BULL SHIT”. Yeah, I was yelling by the end of the sentence.

An insight into a particularly successful coach/player relationship? I think not. It is only 180-odd pages of drivel by a man whose ego simply knows no limits. When many people think back on the age-old “Wilt or Russell” debate, Chamberlain's ability to reel off his statistics and accomplishments has usually marked him the more egotistical of the pair. Russ, however, simply put it as “Eleven rings, ten fingers”. That Wilt only won twice – on mostly inferior teams – was the burden he had to lug about and as such in the “Who's better, who's best” game he had to rely on his extraordinary personal achievements. Russell has always been seen as the less-outspoken and less crass of the pair.

Until now. Red and Me was less about Red and more about Me. It was undoubtedly the most arrogant, selfish, egotistical and self-gratifying sports book I've ever had the misfortune to read and without question ranks at the bottom of the pile. And I've read Dean Jones: One day Magic, Punter: The first Tests of a Champion and the immortally bad Second Coming where Sam Smith attempts to revisit the success he had with The Jordan Rules but with only a modicum of enthusiasm. The point is, I've read some rubbish in my time but never have I read a sports book I enjoyed less.

These are not the recollections of a coach/player relationship and what made it so successful, more an attempted apologetic at how good Bill Russell was as a player. For several years during and after the careers of Wilt and Russell – I hate bringing Wilt's name into this but their careers will always be inextricably linked – Russell always said the Celtics triumphed most often because they had the better teams, which was for the large part true. Now he appears to be coming out saying that his teammates weren't nearly as good as history has made them out, and that all the glory for their championship years should go to him, simply because he was that good. I get the feeling now there is a swell of posthumous support for Chamberlain's case as greater and this is Russell trying to tell everyone that he was the best ever in a very gentle sense. He fails horribly in this.

Throughout the book, as he dwells on his family history, his relationships with his coaches and his experience Russell says “It is better to understand than to be understood” and lets on that this is his personal philosophy, the mantra he's led his life by. What twaddle! It may very well be true, but when he follows it immediately with a “Why do the citizens of Boston hate me?” soliloquy after purporting to understand them it rings very false indeed. He then uses the “... than to be understood” as an excuse to do just as he wants in life and be excused for it, no matter what the consequences on those around him. This makes him look a very sad, extremely angry and ultimately exceedingly lonely man.

Russell has a reputation for being a little spiky, perhaps hard to get to know. He often has refused to sign autographs for young fans, backing it up with statements like “Young children should ask their teacher for their autograph”. Within 30 pages he shoots that argument in the foot automatically and irrevocably by stating that he learnt nothing from his coaches at the University of San Francisco or from Auerbach during their ten years together. Indeed he then says he never respected any coaches he'd had except Red Auerbach, and the reason he held Red in such esteem was that he didn't try to get Russell to play according to team rules but changed the team rules to what was best for the Big Fella. He then says he knew everything about basketball before comin into the NBA as a 22-year old. According to Bill, Red identified early his talent and then essentially gave him carté blanche to do as he pleased.

No-one can ever argue with the record of the Boston Celtics during the 1950s and 1960s. I would have said “No-one can ever argue with Bill Russell's record ...” except this book has engendered such a dislike of the man in me that I now simply refuse to acknowledge him out of the Celtics team. That this man, such an icon of the sporting world, the first black coach in any pro sport comes out and says “I liked Red Auerbach because he let me do things the way I wanted”. No-one can dispute the results of this theory, so perhaps Auerbach was every bit the coach we now think of him as. To effectively get a player with a chip on his shoulder the size of Russell's to suit up and play hard every game ensures Red's reputation as one of the greats but more than that, Red and Me places Bill Russell inelegantly balancing at the top of Sporting Hall of Fame for Complete Dicks.

So to sum up: Red and Me: My Coach, my lifelong friend – 0 stars.

Don't even buy it for your worst enemy.