Those Who Love the Game: Glenn "Doc" Rivers on Life in the Nba and Elsewhere

An NBA veteran joins forces with the author of What Hearts to chronicle the inside story of his life, from his Chicago neighborhood to college and competition on and off the court.

Grade 7 Up-A veteran guard with the New York Knicks and author Bruce Brooks have collaborated to produce a compelling, insightful look at both basketball and life in general. The book doesn't describe Rivers's life in chronological order, but presents snippets of his experiences both on and off the court. Brooks offers frequent commentary, but it's Rivers who tells his own story. The melding of narrative and direct quotes produces an end result that is rare in the genre of sports biography for any age. There's a little of everything here: including childhood memories; tips for would-be players; and analyses of NBA stars, coaches, and games. Rivers extols the virtues of family, education, and the need to steer clear of drugs through real-life examples rather than through didactic rhetoric. Interesting, too, are the observations Brooks passes along concerning the subject's words and actions in his roles of player, father, and husband. Glenn Rivers doesn't have anywhere near the name recognition of many present-day superstars, but he will be remembered by anyone fortunate enough to read this book. Eight pages of black-and-white photographs are included.
Tom S. Hurlburt, La Crosse Public Library, WI
Copyright 1994 Reed Business Information, Inc.

With the help of a cerebral and enthusiastic co-author, the New York Knicks' veteran guard reflects on life and basketball. Doc Rivers has plenty to say, about lessons learned growing up in Chicago and the importance of family and teamwork; about the dangers of easing talented young players through school; about setting high goals, working mercilessly to achieve them, and being honest with oneself. Though he tends to use superlatives (``Nobody was better at anticipating passes than Gus [Williams]'') and the kind of generalities many athletes offer the press, perceptive readers will sense a searching intelligence underlying them. There are relatively few anecdotes here; instead, brief, loosely linked chapters (similar to Brooks's Boys Will Be, 1993) capture some of the excitement of playing--and, even more vividly, of thinking- -about the game. In a foreword, Brooks mentions some favorite autobiographies of other athletes; at the end, he listens in on Rivers teaching a summer camp group the real fundamentals of basketball. Young athletes in any sport will profit from this thoughtful dialogue. B&w photo section; index. (Biography. YA) -- Copyright ©1994, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.

Gr. 7-12. Sports autobiographies, whether for adults or young people, are a much-maligned genre: too self-serving, too much play-by-play, and way too smarmy. This collaboration between New York Knick guard Glenn ("Doc") Rivers and award-winning YA author Bruce Brooks avoids those and other pitfalls, but early on it appears as if it's not going to avoid an even worse trap: metaphors. When Brooks, the author of The Moves Make the Man and other meaning-laden sports novels, launches into an elaborate analogy comparing Rivers' teammate John Starks to jazz saxophonist Sonny Rollins (whom most teens won't know from Sonny Bono), we immediately want to take cover, fearing that metaphors as large as hailstones will soon be littering the pages. Fortunately, Brooks quickly backs off, turning the proceedings largely over to Rivers, out of whose mouth pour not metaphors but insights: about the game and the players, about competition, about race, about maturity, and about what it feels like on the court. Listen: "The pressure's on, you've got maybe eighteen seconds, you look around and catch a couple of quick glances, you see a defensive guy's feet stutter a little, you sense his man move, you spin and pass, and skoosh! Two!" When Brooks confines his role to amanuensis, which is most of the time, this book works as well as any basketball autobiography since Bill Bradley's Life on the Run. Forget basketball-as-a-metaphor-for-life; Rivers gives us "the game itself." Bill Ott