I cannot remember who told me about this being a good book, but I did enjoy it. It reads like a Greek tragedy, almost like Oedipus Rex, except that Pete doesn't kill the domineering father and ends up reconciling with him toward Press's (the father) death. It some ways it's the story of how not to raise a son, living through him, though that is pretty hard to do as we all want our sons and daughters to be successful. Press was an immigrant Serb's son, who grew up a stone's throw from the steel mill in Alliquippa, PA, a tough nut to say the least. Basketball saved him, helped him stay out of the mills and when his career ended, he ended up coaching both in high school and college and, of course, young Pete was always to be found on the basketball court, working on his skills, developing his magic with the ball, a prodigy by the time he was eight, wowing players and adults alike. Press couldn't coach Pete in high school, though he sat in the stands every game and even though Pete might score 45 points that night, Press would take apart his son's game after each game, telling him what he should have done better, rarely if ever praising him, the tough love of that generation. Pete eventually rebelled, of course, and his father, when he coached him in college at LSU, had a set of rules for Pete (none) and another set for the others. His love for his son blinded him to just about anything else. Unfortunately, the pressure he put on Pete, the pressure of expectation, the gift of his game, all contributed to making Pete a miserable person, an alcoholic from high school on, unhappy, with few friends, perhaps what we might diagnose today as bipolar. His college career was legendary, averaging 44 points a game for three years but his teams never won a championship. Where ever LSU played, the fans came out to see him dazzle with 'showtime', most could care less who won the game. They came to see Pete, which pretty much describes his career: he was the show, the team secondary, never really winning much, either in college or the pros. He struggled as a pro his first year or two, partly because his contract was resented by the players and he had a tough time fitting in. By his third year, he was leading the league in scoring and making the all star team, but from then on, it was a struggle, as injuries, nagging back, and of course his dissolute life style hurt his game. He was a fanatic, even crazy, at times, believing in flying saucers, that Armageddon was coming, and he always had a new obsession, vegetarianism, organic food, yoga, whatever was the flavor of the day. All were attempts to fill a void in his life but none did. Basketball certainly never seemed like fun because of the pressures he felt, right from the start, to be perfect, to win all, to set records, to placate his father first, then fans, and teammates. Many remarked how he never smiled, ever, when he played. He eventually retired early, found God, was born again and literally changed his life for the best. Christianity became his crutch, but he became a devout father and husband, helped others, set up camps for the poor, and for the last years of his life, he seemed at peace with himself. He reconciled with his father, literally took care of him, as he was dying from prostate cancer, and seemed ready to become a Baptist phenom, speaking at churches, halls, moving people with his words the way he did on the court. In 1988, the Rev. James Dobson asked him to come to LA to give a talk, but because he was a basketball nut, Dodson set up a scrimmage for Peter and a few others, though Pete did not really want to play. Dodson sounds like the kind of little guy who always wants to win, compete, at whatever age, and will undercut you if need be to win at game, even a pick up game like this. The group scrimmaged for a bit, Pete went over for a drink of water with buddies, and keeled over, dying of a heart attack. Later, they were to find that he had a heart deformity, only one of the two arteries led to his heart. It was a wonder he lived beyond the age of twenty with this problem let alone into his 40's. Like most people, both Pete and his Dad had their strengths but also their demons, a result of their upbringings and genes. Both were amazingly single minded in whatever they did. For Press, it was basketball, for Pete basketball for awhile, then other things, and finally God.
I played for press in the Aloha Classic in Hawaii in 1969 and remember him well, especially his 'nutty wife', screaming from the stands during the game. Press was fairly normal as a coach I thought but this was not much of coaching job for him. I did find out that his wife had her demons as well, was depressed, alcoholic, and committed suicide in the early 70's by putting a pistol to her head. It does read like a Greek tragedy.
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