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Tag Archive - book reviews

Of Animal Imagination: A Review of “West By West: My Charmed, Tormented Life”

November 2, 2011 in by with 1 Comment

Jerry West dreamt of living in Africa as a child. He dreamt of co-existing with the animals that he’s had a lifelong fascination with, and “experiencing their incredible will to survive.” Africa would’ve been the perfect locale for a survivor, for a tortured child who would have felt more at peace with animals thousands of miles away than he ever did in his broken home.

West By West: My Charmed, Tormented Life insists itself as a memoir, not an autobiography. There is a prevailing notion that sports autobiographies unabashedly laud career achievements and gloss over the details that truly make a person worth knowing. ‘West By West’ is not that book. Key moments in West’s life – those worthy of celebration and those unbearably grim – are told with the knowledge that his battles with depression, grief, and rage are never too far behind. What emerges is the story of a man broken at childhood by an abusive father and his brother’s untimely death, whose scars would follow him into success, turning triumph into the same crippling sadness that occupied his youth.

It’s impossible to ignore the murderous rage West had bottled up in his adolescence. He takes the time to think of a life in which he had carried out his most abhorrent thoughts. No college. No NBA. No Olympics.  Everything we’d come to know of him, every success he’d come to know himself, wouldn’t have been possible. The contempt he had for his father is palpable. West is a man who exists as a collage of varying contradictions, and it’s scary to think that the same murderous rage that could have derailed his success is the same force that instilled his drive – to win, to be perfect, to attain his father’s love and attention.

This has been incredibly bleak thus far, and yes, the book is absolutely this depressing. Ironically, the way in which the title was printed on the cover (specifically the size of each word) runs inversely to the gravity that each word holds in the book. West’s ‘tormented life’ receives the least emphasis on the cover even though Torment wrestles for control of the memoir, establishing itself as the third writer. West, printed big and bold, undermines how shy, withdrawn, and just how uncomfortable he seems writing solely about himself.

What’s left is Charmed, a fitting word that highlights West’s delightfully odd sense of humor, and anecdotes that were too good to be left out.  Despite the book’s omnipresent gloom, there are still rays of light.

Some odd notables:

  • West was a churchgoer as a kid, but instead of finding peace with God, he found church bingo — another excuse to fire up his competitive spirit, and obsession with doing things (and in this case, shouting things) quickly.
  • West finds himself “wondering who would win in a fight between a coyote and a pit bull,” a silly thought that didn’t come from his childhood, but in sitting down to write his memoir.
  • West and legendary Lakers announcer Chick Hearn were escape artists. They would stage competitions to see who could inconspicuously leave team functions.
  • In an Italian restaurant, West questioned a diner sitting next to him about her choice of beverage. She was drinking beer (instead of red wine) with her pasta, which he found preposterous. So he paid for her meal.

The book meanders (sometimes annoyingly so), and it may take a few pages for West to find the point he was trying to make, but it speaks to the uneasiness that West has in discussing himself for too long. West’s deviations often involve people dear to him, often telling their stories or stories that have far more to do with them than himself. He loves people; far more than he loves himself – something the book makes all too clear early on.

Just as pervasive as the gloom is West’s (more welcomed) imagination. Through his imagination, readers get a glimpse of his humble basketball beginnings, where “clutch” was first constructed. Practicing alone, West would concoct scenarios with imaginary teams and real stakes. Imaginary buzzer beaters would swish or clank. His imaginary team would win or would lose (though he’d make sure he’d win the next one). Mr. Clutch was born in the deep country landscape of West Virginia, where West not only discovered his unconquerable addiction to basketball, but also the beauty of the land in which he was raised.

In his own mind, he found relief from the pressing realities that made him morose. In this life or another, Jerry West is an animal roaming his domain, fully exercising his innate instinct of survival – away from the hurt he endured as a child. He is Santa Claus, blessing others with random acts of generosity – showing his love and appreciation for others, something he admittedly struggles with at times. He’s a mind submerged in wanderlust – furiously going from one place to another both in life and in thought. At once, he can dream of Africa, and in the same instant, construct the perfect game between the best basketball players in history (including himself, of course).

He is one of the greatest basketball players in history. He is the Logo (the image they use is something he scoffs at; he is dribbling with his left hand, something West claims was a weakness). His most memorable shot was a 60+ foot buzzer-beater against the New York Knicks in Game 3 of the 1970 Finals (which he resents, since his Lakers eventually lost in overtime). His list of success goes on and on, but he remains fixated on his failures to this day.

“I know that incarcerated is a strong word, but that is how I felt; it is also how I felt in the locker room before a game, like a caged animal that needed to break out, and it is why I still, today, look to escape from places and keep moving, a man on the run.” (20).

It’s a depressing book. Of that, I’m sure. It’s full of wonderful anecdotes both from his time as a player, a GM, and a father – some of which will require rereading. It’s dense, and there are a lot of emotions that are laid out plain to see. Through interviews that co-writer Jonathan Coleman conducted with those closest to him, it’s evident that West is a beloved figure, though you’d have to dig through all of West’s self-loathing to get to that point.

If there is any hope, any peace in this book, it’s because he says there is. If you’re skeptical by the end of the book, I don’t blame you. I’m not so sure Jerry West believes it either.

You can buy the book on Amazon.com

Words on Pages: “The Punch” by John Feinstein

July 28, 2010 in by with 2 Comments

There are lessons to be learned from John Feinstein’s book about Rudy Tomjanovich and Kermit Washington, The Punch.

Violence Begets Violence.

The violence that we seem to wholeheartedly celebrate in an earlier generation was curbed for a reason. It wasn’t The Punch. The Punch was simply the abscess that revealed the rot. This isn’t a “it looks really bad for the league” type rot. It’s a rot that made clears clear the league was headed for a full-on cave-in if it was not rectified. Most terrifyingly, Rudy Tomjanovich nearly became that cave in. Terrifying in the sense that Tomjanovich could have died. This is not exaggeration. This is not hypersensitivity.

Eleven pages into the opening chapter of Feinstein’s book, Dr. Paul Toffel is standing in the Emergency Room at Centinela Hospital in Los Angeles, talking to Rudy Tomjanovich, then a 29-year-old All-Star who very much wanted to return to the game. Toffel asks Rudy a question. Toffel is a head trauma expert called in the aftermath of the punch. The question at first seems odd, and then a feeling of dread passes over you, the way a sharp twist in a horror novel or film makes the hair on your arms stand up. It’s a simple question.

“‘Rudy, let me ask you a question,’ he said. ‘Do you have any kind of funny taste in your mouth?’

Tomjanovich’s eyes opened slowly. ‘Yeah, I do,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t taste like blood either. It’s very bitter. What is it?’

‘Spinal fluid,’ Toffel said. ‘You’re leaking spinal fluid from your brain. We’re going to get you up to ICU in a few minutes and we’re going to hope your brain capsule seals soon.’”

And with that, those who did not understand what The Punch was begin to know just how truly horrifying violence on the floor can be. We can sit on barstools, on television studio sets, around water coolers and talk about how the NBA has become full of soft players. And to be sure, the fierce physicality of the NBA carried on well past The Punch. But it set in motion the acceleration of a movement that was birthed the summer prior to The Punch, when the owners came to an agreement to give the commissioner the power to more heavily fine players and to suspend them indefinitely. The fights had gotten out of control, and that trend had continued when the ’77 season began.

There is an element of the story that drives home this lesson. In Buffalo during the ’76-’77 season, Washington had been involved in a fight with John Shumate of the Buffalo Braves. During that fight, members of the Braves had jumped on Washington’s back from behind. This put a significant fear of being attacked from behind in Washington. Less than a year later, Rudy Tomjanovich would approach the fight where Washington was involved from behind. Tomjanovich had not intention of leaping on Washington’s back, or fighting, really. But when the Braves bench became involved in that fight, it created a chain reaction that would partially influence what went  through Washington’s brain before he swung. That’s what we’re left with. The more players fight, the better the chance that we face the possibility of an event beyond what we think is allowable. We like the idea of Kevin Garnett and Pau Gasol trading elbows (yeah, that should work out well), but we certainly don’t want anyone to be seriously hurt. Do you recognize how insane that sounds?

“YES, OF COURSE I WANT GIGANTIC HUMAN BEINGS WITH MASSIVE POWER TO THROW VIOLENT SWINGS TOWARD ONE ANOTHER! I JUST DON’T WANT ANYONE TO GET SERIOUSLY HURT! WHY IS THIS SO HARD TO UNDERSTAND?”

So the next time your favorite player gets a little wound up and tosses a punch or throws a player and then gets suspended, consider that it’s a lot like throwing up debris to try and slow down a runaway train (never goin’ back). With enough velocity, nothing’s going to stop it (Ron Artest). That still means you try like hell to slow it down enough to keep it out of the ravine.

Don’t Judge A Book By Its Number Of Ejections

Pop Quiz.

Which of the two players involved in The Punch was an Academic All-American?

The fact that I’m asking should give you a pretty good hint that it was Washington, and not Tomjanovich. This stunned me. I like to think that it wasn’t a racial issue, though I don’t have a frame by frame breakdown of my initial mental reaction to that fact to say for sure.  I can say that it was more Washington’s reputation as an enforcer and his lasting image as the player that threw The Punch that led to that shock settling in. But it’s true. Washington graduated with a 3.37 GPA and a BA in Sociology. The guy that threw The Punch whipped my performance in college.

And after reading the book, you’re left with a number of changed perspectives about Washington. He never thought of himself as an enforcer, never took pride in that part of his game. It was simply an element he was called upon to do. He possessed the kind of work ethic that we constantly wish players would emulate. The book reveals a portrait of… a person.

Obvious right? Yes, Kermit Washington is a person. Thanks for that, Matt. My point is that to elaborate on how complex Washington is revealed to be is to underestimate how complex most people are. He’s simultaneously a devoted teammate and a moody player that’s unable to to deal plainly with his situation. He expresses very real remorse for what happened to Rudy while blaming Kevin Kunnert for starting the fracas that led to the swing, despite being Kunnert’s teammate for years. He’s not any more layered, likable, or pained than most of the people you know in your life, or you yourself. The book paints Washington as both selfish and selfless, considerate and insensitive, self-aware and oblivious. He’s the Nowhere Man, plastered on YouTube and history retrospectives for all time because of a poor decision.

A League Drawn Upon Itself Many Times Over

The book reveals Tomjanovich’s endless feeling of inadequacy and his drive to disprove that self-assessment. That same drive pushes him to be an All-Star in the NBA. Which leads to him starting. Which leads to the punch. Which leads to the timing that sets up his availability as a coach. Which contributes to both his NBA Championship rings and his battle with alcoholism.

That night in 1977, Jerry West was coaching the Lakers. Rudy Tomjanovich wound up coaching the Lakers for a season and still works as a consultant for the very team that unwillingly contributed to the shortening of his career. Kareem Abdul-Jabbar is described in the book as being moody, difficult, and wary of physical contact. In 2009, media members criticized Lakers center Andrew Bynum for not finishing his training with Kareem, despite all of these well known issues with him. By “media members” I mean, me. The Braves were the team that jumped Washington from behind (though Washington was clearly an equal contributor to the fight). The Braves would later move to San Diego and rename themselves the Clippers, and then move to Los Angeles, where they continue to spread misery and pain, only now just to their fans.

Red Auerbach was a significant positive force for Washington, trading for him after The Punch.

That same move to San Diego? It was part of an ownership swap in the league that also sent several contracts, including Washington’s, to San Diego, from the Celtics. That same summer, the new ownership helped Auerbach sign a player that hadn’t entered the draft yet. AND HIS NAME… WAS LARRY BIRD. AND NOW YOU KNOW THE REST OF THE HIGHLY PREDICTABLE STORY.

The point is that we think of the league in eras. Players exist in a time frame, are dominant in a time frame, and then retire in the next time frame. But these same players and personnel have long reaching affects that impact teams, players, coaches, and personnel from generation to generation. And though Feinstein’s work is about the two players and how that night scarred them both, the book had me tossing it across the room several times saying “Whoa” like Keanu.

The Story Itself

It’s a sad book. You feel bad for everyone. The players that were there that night sound haunted by the events, especially Calvin Murphy, one of Tomjanovich’s best friends. The book ends, in ironic fashion, talking about how both players can’t stand how often it’s brought up. I feel guilty for even writing this review. But Feinstein’s work deserve to be noted for contributing to our history of the league. It’s a companion to “Breaks of the Game,” an insight into life as an NBA player, a history lesson, a portrait, and a parable. The book doesn’t come off as heavy-handed, nor overdramatic. It doesn’t subscribe to any higher arching themes. It’s the story of two lives that intersected in a moment of violence and terror that neither intended, and that both have had to live with for the rest of their lives.

There are points that Feinstein ignores out of consideration. He rarely touches the real damage Tomjanovich faced that night. He only briefly touches on the lasting denial Washington lives in throughout the book, though it’s enough to make an impact during the conclusion. He sometimes seems resolute in hammering home themes that don’t really serve to convince us of who both players were. But those same themes do ring true as part of the story, an element that lacquers their histories. An update to the book following the past 10 years, or really, just Ron Artest, would be fascinating, particularly through the lens of David Stern and his adjustments to O’Brien’s policies. But at the end of the day, Feinstein manages to captivate without losing perspective.

If you want a good story about how the league was altered by a single incident, you should read it.

If you want to learn more about who Kermit Washington and Rudy Tomjanovich really were, really are, you should read it.

If you want a damn fine basketball book, you should read it.

Score (out of 5): 4.5

More reading:

Tomjanovich and Washington meet following publication of The Punch

Washington speaks about Blount from Oregon

Washington’s Good Life

Buy it on Amazon