"Have you ever had a dream that was so crazy and seemingly unrealistic you never even tried to follow it? This book is about a guy who followed that dream all the way to Prague and discovered that, sometimes, the journey is more important than the dream itself. Read it and you might find yourself willing to take a few more chances."

That's the pull quote I wrote for Expatriate Games: My Season of Misadventures in Czech Semi-Pro Basketball. Or, I should say, that's one of the pull quotes I wrote. Here's the one that the editor wanted to use but (for obvious reasons) did not:

"If the earth ever spins off its axis and kills us all, it'll be because of the titanic balls it took for Dave Fromm to move to Prague and just walk on to a semi-pro basketball team. Next time I hesitate to follow my dreams, I'm going to think back to this book."

Expatriate Games is the story of David Fromm, who -- like many people before and after him -- had no idea what to do with himself after he graduated from college. Or rather, he had ideas, but he didn't particularly like any of them. Law school beckoned but didn't exactly entice. He wasn't ready to grow up and start taking on adult responsibilities, so he talked himself into doing something wild and unexpected: Move to Prague and play professional basketball. Brilliant!

The idea, in and of itself, wasn't entirely original. A lot of the guys I played pickup ball with in college -- which was around the same time Fromm went on his most excellent adventure -- talked casually (but quite seriously) about how they probably could and therefore should move to Europe and become a pro baller. Seriously, I knew several people who thought that was a perfectly valid option in the mid to late-90s. Like, you could just fly halfway around the world and walk onto a pro team. Snap of the fingers, just like that.

And Fromm did it. Sort of.

Despite a language barrier that he never really broke through and a cultural gap he never fully crossed, Fromm tracked down and improbably walked onto a semi-pro Czech team called TJ Sokol Kralovske Vinhorady. In between the practices and games, he managed to earn a one-year postgraduate degree (which partially justified the zany odyssey) and fall into one of those crazy "I'm away from home and in a foreign and totally exotic place" romances that hit you hard and leave you feeling, well, like you got hit really hard.

The book is sort of an extended diary of the experience. There are plenty of vivid and amusing descriptions of the life that went on around playing basketball -- including the occasional side trip into of what was going on in the NBA at that time -- but the best parts of the book come when Fromm talks about playing and practicing. At times, he was even better than he thought. At other times, he was much worse, particularly since he was nurtured on Jordan Era hoops, which meant that his style of play (cutting, slashing, breaking his man down one-on-one) didn't quite mesh with the European style (passing into the post, cutting without the ball, spotting up for an open jumper).

Fromm was alternately delighted and frustrated by his teammates, and they probably felt the same way about him (although, thanks to their incomplete and broken English, it was sometimes difficult to tell exactly what they were thinking). But one thing that he found out is that camaraderie is something of a universal language. Win, lose or draw, there was always time to celebrate victory or (more often) drown the sorrow in a bitter but surprisingly tasty Czech brew.

That year came and went in a flash. Fromm played semi-pro ball, but he never earned any money doing so (unless you count the proceeds from this book) and his team never won anything of note. He kind of fell in love, but that love never really went anywhere. He met a lot of fascinating people, but many of them have been lost in the mists of time. In the end, the journey feels somewhat surreal, like a complex and vivid dream. But what a dream to have and make come true, you know?

Labels: big honking balls, book reviews, Expatriate Games

If Kobe Bryant is the most polarizing figure of the new century, then Wilt Chamberlain was easily the most polarizing character of the last one. Depending on whom you talk to or what you read, Wilt was either a selfish loser or the best basketball player of all time. Some people claim he was self-centered, self-indulgent, self-aggrandizing, and any other "self" you can think of. Others believe that he was a gentle, caring, philanthropic soul whose frequent trips down the Ego Superhighway were just amusing examples of "Wilt being Wilt."

So -- evil or good, hero or villain -- which was the "true" Wilt? Honestly, I think he was all of those things. Indisputably great and monumentally self-absorbed, Wilt wanted not a little, but a lot...of everything: To win and to break records, to be The Man without having to take responsibility for tough losses, to love and be loved without the burden of committment. He was a walking, talking, high-scoring paradox.

In some ways, Wilt was almost unknowable. He was shy, secretive, and tended to compartmentalize the various and sundry aspects of his life. But I think that knowing and understanding Wilt Chamberlain -- or, at least, trying to -- is important. He's one of those rare figures that helped define, or redefine, the game of basketball. The NBA created the goaltending rule because of him. They widened the key in part because of Wilt's dominance under the basket. The rule that you can't cross the line on a freethrow until the ball hits the rim was instituted because the league was afraid Wilt would just try to dunk his foul shots (which he was fully capable of doing).

I've read countless books about Wilt, from his autobiographies to novels like The Rivalry: Bill Russell, Wilt Chamberlain, and the Golden Age of Basketball. There are many subtle layers to the man, and you really need to take from multiple sources if you want to get a broad sense of who he was (as well as who he wanted you to think he was). One of the more recent sources is among the best: Wilt: Larger Than Life.

If you're looking for in-depth descriptions of his various in-game accomplishments, then this book isn't for you. Many of his basketball feats are merely summarized and some have been omitted altogether (although, to be fair, Wilt's records would fill an entire book on their own). The author, Robert Cherry, clearly was much more interested in painting a portrait of Wilt the human being than Wilt the basketball superstar. The book fills in a lot of the gaps regarding where Wilt came from and what he was doing with himself when he wasn't dunking on people. There are countless interviews and first-hand accounts of his life, and not only from former players, rivals, and coaches. There are also a great many quotes from the people who knew him in his every day life: lawyers, agents, doctors, family, friends, his lovers, people who hung out and played vollyball with him on the beach, and some of the fortunate many who met him only once for the briefest of moments.

All in all, the book shows Wilt as a person who just wanted to live his life and be happy. He just happened to be over seven feet tall, filthy rich, and incredibly famous. If all you ever knew of Wilt was what he did as a basketball player, you might be interested to discover that he donated time and money to various womens' athletic teams. You might even be touched by the story of how he befriended former teammate Paul Arizin's granddaughter, who was dying of a terminal illness. And you might be surprised at how difficult and lonely the last few months of his life were.

The only criticism I have is that Cherry was, at times, a little too generous to Wilt, tending to gloss over his less appealing character traits while slightly over-emphasizing the better ones. There also were times it seemed as though he was trying to make excuses for Wilt (particularly when discussing how Wilt took only two shots during the second half of Game 7 of the 1968 Eastern Conference Finals). I can forgive these faults, however, because there have been many, many things written that highlight Wilt's dark side. This book was a refreshing change, and an enlightening look at one of the most important men to ever put a ball through a hoop.

Labels: biographies, book reviews, Wilt Chamberlain