The preceding is the intro to Bill Simmons’s podcast, which I listen to far more often than I read his columns. You see, Simmons writes long columns. LONG columns. Like 7000-word columns. I call this the Modest Mouse phenomenon. If they have a maximum 72 minutes on a CD, they’ll fill all 72 minutes. Maybe there’s only 40 minutes of good music, but hey, why not? Personally, I don’t have a problem with this. They’re going to charge the same amount anyway, so why not fill it up? I think Simmons has the same idea. He’s not constrained by print inches in a newspaper. There’s no 500-word limit. He could theoretically write forever. Here, I have a problem. I just don’t read long pieces online. I will sometimes print something out and read it later, but anything beyond one screen worth tests my patience, and I’ve never felt like printing anything related to sports.

I love the podcast though. He does them from his house, has a good selection of guests, and puts out several per week. I rarely miss one. Now, he has a new book. Sure, he’s promoted it a million times on his show, but I still took the bait.

The book (no surprise) is over 700 pages. No Limits Simmons strikes again! But again, I say, why not? I can alway choose to skip a chapter, and a couple of hundred pages in, I already have.

Simmons attempts to write his own history of the NBA in as comprehensive (and simultaneously anecdotal) way as possible. He spends the prologue giving us his testimony, if you will. How he got from there to here. Simmons is a notorious Boston homer (though not in a bad way) and the Celtics are number one on his list. He tells the story of his father getting season tickets back in the 70s and how that shaped his formative years. It’s the Sports Guy origin story. This is a nice way to start the book. It reminds me of the way Harry Knowles does his movie reviews at Ain’t It Cool News: The review is placed with a larger context: the other activities that took place that same day and such. Simmons history does the same thing. We need something to explain the mania that prompts someone to write a 700-page book about the NBA.

The first chapter is also well done. He talks about “The Secret,” the thing that leads to true success in the NBA. (Turns out it’s teamwork and unselfishness.) This gives us the lens through which the entire history of the league will be viewed. He follows that up with a chapter that I skipped, comparing Chamberlain to Russell. No, it’s more than that. It’s almost thirty pages of argument for Russell over Wilt. Alright, I get it. I don’t need convincing.

Before the fireworks start, Simmons gives us another great chapter taking us from the league’s beginning in 1946 up through the year 1984. You see, that is when the modern era of basketball starts according to Simmons, so he lays out all that came before. This is point at which I’m going to stop reading for a while because I don’t want to get burnt out on this book. When I step back into the fray, I’ll expect Simmons to walk me through the glory years, replete with Bird and Magic and MJ, as well as numerous references to Boogie Nights. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The Book of Basketball: The NBA According to The Sports Guy

*The image of a Menudo Japanese import CD was only used because this is the kind of thing Simmons would appreciate. I’d hope that he’d also appreciate that this is my longest entry to date. It rubbed off.

Terrence Williams is a rookie in the NBA, originally from Seattle. This article, ostensibly about the town house he’s renting, delves into a story that’s typical of the most oppressive kind of poverty. People think of Seattle as city of over-educated white people, but there’s a lot more to it than that.

I first met Terrence during his senior year at Rainier Beach High School, the roughest school in town. Dangerous Minds-type business. I was doing my initial student teaching with his English teacher. She had a good relationship with him and was able to navigate the baggage he brought into the classroom. One day, she had to leave suddenly with an illness. I was only observing at the time, but I volunteered to take the reins. The image that sticks with me is of Terrence having a bad day and sitting at the teacher’s desk instead of with the other students. I wasn’t going to tell him to move; I was just looking for a peaceful classroom.

He got recruited by Rick Pitino at Louisville. After a productive  career there, he’s now playing for the New Jersey Nets. Reading this article and knowing the back story, it gives some real perspective to the type of athlete who is usually seen in rarified air. He’s gone from debilitating poverty to insane wealth within a very short period of time. That’s a crazy situation. I don’t imagine anything could prepare him for what lies ahead. Certainly not what lies behind.