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Can I Keep My Jersey?: 11 Teams, 5 Countries, and 4 Years in My Life as a Basketball Vagabond
He’s been called a journeyman. Even Paul wouldn’t dispute that classification. Regardless, Bill Simmons, ESPN.com’s “The Sports Guy,” has said of Paul Shirley, “We could finally have an answer to the question ‘What would it be like if one of our friends was an NBA player?”
There’s no denying that Paul Shirley is the closest thing pro basketball’s got to Odysseus. In Homeric fashion, he has logged time practically everywhere in the roundball universe, from six NBA cities to pro leagues in Spain and Greece to North America’s pro ball Siberia, the minor leagues. Hell, he’s even played in the real Siberia. And in Can I Keep My Jersey?, Shirley finally puts down roots long enough to deliver one of the great locker-room chronicles of the modern age.
With sharp elbows and an even sharper wit, Shirley–whose writings have been described as “wildly entertaining” by The Wall Street Journal–drops hilarious commentary, revealing which teams have the best cheerleaders (he’s spent many a time-out watching them ply their trade), why Christ is rapidly becoming every team’s “sixth man,” and even the best ways to get bloodstains out of your game uniform, using only an ordinary bar of soap and a hotel bathroom sink.
From sharing the court with Kobe and Shaq to perusing the food court at some mall in a bush-league burg; from taking pregame layups to getting laid out by a stray knee from an NBA power forward; from hopping a limo to the team’s charter jet to dashing to catch the van home from a B-league game in Tijuana, Shirley dishes on what it’s like to try to make it as a professional athlete. Can I Keep My Jersey? is a rollicking, thoughtful, even thought-provoking insider’s look at a pro baller’s life on the fringe. Like Jim Bouton’s Ball Four or John Feinstein’s A Season on the Brink, Shirley’s odyssey deserves to find a home on every sports fan’s bookshelf.
There’s no denying that Paul Shirley is the closest thing pro basketball’s got to Odysseus. In Homeric fashion, he has logged time practically everywhere in the roundball universe, from six NBA cities to pro leagues in Spain and Greece to North America’s pro ball Siberia, the minor leagues. Hell, he’s even played in the real Siberia. And in Can I Keep My Jersey?, Shirley finally puts down roots long enough to deliver one of the great locker-room chronicles of the modern age.
With sharp elbows and an even sharper wit, Shirley–whose writings have been described as “wildly entertaining” by The Wall Street Journal–drops hilarious commentary, revealing which teams have the best cheerleaders (he’s spent many a time-out watching them ply their trade), why Christ is rapidly becoming every team’s “sixth man,” and even the best ways to get bloodstains out of your game uniform, using only an ordinary bar of soap and a hotel bathroom sink.
From sharing the court with Kobe and Shaq to perusing the food court at some mall in a bush-league burg; from taking pregame layups to getting laid out by a stray knee from an NBA power forward; from hopping a limo to the team’s charter jet to dashing to catch the van home from a B-league game in Tijuana, Shirley dishes on what it’s like to try to make it as a professional athlete. Can I Keep My Jersey? is a rollicking, thoughtful, even thought-provoking insider’s look at a pro baller’s life on the fringe. Like Jim Bouton’s Ball Four or John Feinstein’s A Season on the Brink, Shirley’s odyssey deserves to find a home on every sports fan’s bookshelf.
336 pages, Hardcover
First published January 1, 2007
42 people are currently reading
1733 people want to read
About the author
Paul Shirley
16 books63 followersA former college and professional basketball player, Paul turned the stories of his travels and travails into a humor memoir called CAN I KEEP MY JERSEY?
He followed that with STORIES I TELL ON DATES, which also became a renowned podcast of the same name.
Paul's third book -- and first novel -- was BALL BOY, about a kid named Gray Taylor whose single mother moves Gray from Los Angeles to small-town Kansas, where he finds basketball as a way to fit in...and save the town.
Next came a return to nonfiction with THE PROCESS IS THE PRODUCT, a book that leans on his sports and writing pasts to help readers break big projects into achievable tasks and fall in love with their day-to-day.
Most recently, Paul authored his second novel, DAVID, about a rock band of the same name.
Paul lives in Denver, where he runs The Process, a co-working space and productivity consultancy.
He followed that with STORIES I TELL ON DATES, which also became a renowned podcast of the same name.
Paul's third book -- and first novel -- was BALL BOY, about a kid named Gray Taylor whose single mother moves Gray from Los Angeles to small-town Kansas, where he finds basketball as a way to fit in...and save the town.
Next came a return to nonfiction with THE PROCESS IS THE PRODUCT, a book that leans on his sports and writing pasts to help readers break big projects into achievable tasks and fall in love with their day-to-day.
Most recently, Paul authored his second novel, DAVID, about a rock band of the same name.
Paul lives in Denver, where he runs The Process, a co-working space and productivity consultancy.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 172 reviews
November 4, 2011
If I learned one thing from this book it's that Paul Shirley is a jerk. Despite his feeble and wholly unbelievable attempts at self-deprecation, he comes across as a pretentious douche. He is hateful without good reason in so many of the anecdotes he presents in this book. For example, at one point Shirley rants about those who make mention of his tall stature. He then writes the following:
"Were these people not taught how to use their inner monologues? Yes, I am quite tall, but I know that. Any observation to that effect by others should be kept on the inside, unless the participants are willing to bear the consequences. I don't go around saying everything that is on my mind, but I could. If I did, the airways would be full of 'Well, now, that guys is an example of why they made abortion legal' and 'Why, exactly, were those two people allowed to procreate?'"
I don't know that I've ever read a book written by a more condescending and judgmental author. I kept finding myself thinking that if everyone and everything in his basketball experience is so deplorable, then perhaps he should choose another career. Perhaps put good use to that engineering degree that is mentioned on so many occasions.
I get it, Paul. You think you're unbelievably smart and witty and just generally better than everyone else. You'll have to forgive me if I disagree.
"Were these people not taught how to use their inner monologues? Yes, I am quite tall, but I know that. Any observation to that effect by others should be kept on the inside, unless the participants are willing to bear the consequences. I don't go around saying everything that is on my mind, but I could. If I did, the airways would be full of 'Well, now, that guys is an example of why they made abortion legal' and 'Why, exactly, were those two people allowed to procreate?'"
I don't know that I've ever read a book written by a more condescending and judgmental author. I kept finding myself thinking that if everyone and everything in his basketball experience is so deplorable, then perhaps he should choose another career. Perhaps put good use to that engineering degree that is mentioned on so many occasions.
I get it, Paul. You think you're unbelievably smart and witty and just generally better than everyone else. You'll have to forgive me if I disagree.
September 15, 2014
God, Paul Shirley is an asshole. That’s literally what kept running through my mind throughout this awful, slog of a book. I’d purchased the book a while back for like a dollar on the Amazon marketplace, because I vaguely remembered Bill Simmons touting Shirley in his column back in the glory days of ESPN Page 2. I even more vaguely remembered a short-lived Shirley column on ESPN.com, and while I also remembered not particularly liking it (he came across as overly impressed with his own intelligence and vocabulary, which were both above average, but nothing to write home—or an ESPN.com column—about), I’d also heard there was some good tidbits about his NBA experience and the way he “named names” about what NBA players were really like.
Color me disappointed. Shirley is a much bigger jerk than I recalled, and his “naming names” was essentially him being a giant dickhole to literally every person he came across; and most of the time it was completely unnecessary. Dennis Scott, Shareef Addur-Rahim, Stacy Augmon, Shawn Marion—the guy throws shade at everyone, even the guys he purportedly claims to like! It gets old quick. It’s like the old saying, that if you run into an asshole in the morning, you ran into an asshole. If you keep running into assholes all day, you’re the asshole. Paul Shirley seems to run into assholes wherever he goes. Imagine that.
And when he’s not running into assholes, he’s complaining about something. This book is 95% Paul Shirley whining about something/being an asshole, and 5% actual interesting stories about trying to make it in the NBA. Seriously, whether it’s the weather in Russia (which he goes out of his way multiple times to say he always wanted to play, then spent his entire time there trying to get out of his contract), having to take buses to games, the intelligence level of his teammates, or some other B.S. minutia, Shirley just doesn’t stop with the misanthropic whining.
And let’s talk about his “intelligence” for a second. Maybe it’s because he’s used to being around people for whom education was never a priority, but goddamn if Shirley doesn’t think he’s the smartest guy in the room wherever he goes. And the thing is, he’s not. At all. Shirley writes like a high school grad who just discovered Proust. He tries to put a fancy flourish on everything, and ends up coming across like a pathetic show-off. Actual quality writing doesn’t need to try so hard.
And the racism! The way he writes, you’d think he was Jackie Robinson trying to get a fair shake in the major leagues. How many times do we have to hear how hard it is to be a white guy in the NBA. Give it a rest, pal. Seriously. And that’s not even including his numerous insensitive dickish and racist statements, ragging on people with down syndrome (“If I randomly selected a child with down syndrome, blindfolded him, and sent him to the free throw line, and told him to really try to make four free throws, I would wager that he would do better than to air-ball three of them”), the mentally handicapped (Shirley makes multiple references to “retards” and “retardation”), the physically handicapped (“If I were to add a wheelchair and subtract an arm, we might be discussing three air balls out of four attempts”), people of middle-eastern descent (“Habib the attendant…”), Indians and Native Americans (“If an Indian – dots, not feathers-- shows up…”), homosexuals (“so the nice homo at the ticket counter – I write that not as an insult but as a descriptive noun, as he was quite gay”), people named Darrell (“I even knew his name – Darrell. Poor decision by his parents.”), Hispanics (“Not Julio [in reference to a Spanish dancer]. I don’t know his actual name. Julio seems appropriate, for some reason.”), women in the United States (“the girls in Europe are better-looking than the ones in the United States, if only because they are generally thinner.”) and, for good measure, NBA fans (“I cannot believe that people are willing to pay, and pay handsomely, to watch such inanity) – that’s right, he rags on fans of the game he is desperately trying to break into for enjoying watching the game he is playing! We’re supposed to root for this clown? Give me a break.
Do yourself a favor, and never, ever read this book, ever. Complete garbage written by a pretty despicable human being.
Color me disappointed. Shirley is a much bigger jerk than I recalled, and his “naming names” was essentially him being a giant dickhole to literally every person he came across; and most of the time it was completely unnecessary. Dennis Scott, Shareef Addur-Rahim, Stacy Augmon, Shawn Marion—the guy throws shade at everyone, even the guys he purportedly claims to like! It gets old quick. It’s like the old saying, that if you run into an asshole in the morning, you ran into an asshole. If you keep running into assholes all day, you’re the asshole. Paul Shirley seems to run into assholes wherever he goes. Imagine that.
And when he’s not running into assholes, he’s complaining about something. This book is 95% Paul Shirley whining about something/being an asshole, and 5% actual interesting stories about trying to make it in the NBA. Seriously, whether it’s the weather in Russia (which he goes out of his way multiple times to say he always wanted to play, then spent his entire time there trying to get out of his contract), having to take buses to games, the intelligence level of his teammates, or some other B.S. minutia, Shirley just doesn’t stop with the misanthropic whining.
And let’s talk about his “intelligence” for a second. Maybe it’s because he’s used to being around people for whom education was never a priority, but goddamn if Shirley doesn’t think he’s the smartest guy in the room wherever he goes. And the thing is, he’s not. At all. Shirley writes like a high school grad who just discovered Proust. He tries to put a fancy flourish on everything, and ends up coming across like a pathetic show-off. Actual quality writing doesn’t need to try so hard.
And the racism! The way he writes, you’d think he was Jackie Robinson trying to get a fair shake in the major leagues. How many times do we have to hear how hard it is to be a white guy in the NBA. Give it a rest, pal. Seriously. And that’s not even including his numerous insensitive dickish and racist statements, ragging on people with down syndrome (“If I randomly selected a child with down syndrome, blindfolded him, and sent him to the free throw line, and told him to really try to make four free throws, I would wager that he would do better than to air-ball three of them”), the mentally handicapped (Shirley makes multiple references to “retards” and “retardation”), the physically handicapped (“If I were to add a wheelchair and subtract an arm, we might be discussing three air balls out of four attempts”), people of middle-eastern descent (“Habib the attendant…”), Indians and Native Americans (“If an Indian – dots, not feathers-- shows up…”), homosexuals (“so the nice homo at the ticket counter – I write that not as an insult but as a descriptive noun, as he was quite gay”), people named Darrell (“I even knew his name – Darrell. Poor decision by his parents.”), Hispanics (“Not Julio [in reference to a Spanish dancer]. I don’t know his actual name. Julio seems appropriate, for some reason.”), women in the United States (“the girls in Europe are better-looking than the ones in the United States, if only because they are generally thinner.”) and, for good measure, NBA fans (“I cannot believe that people are willing to pay, and pay handsomely, to watch such inanity) – that’s right, he rags on fans of the game he is desperately trying to break into for enjoying watching the game he is playing! We’re supposed to root for this clown? Give me a break.
Do yourself a favor, and never, ever read this book, ever. Complete garbage written by a pretty despicable human being.
October 17, 2011
Here is the skinny - if you're into basketball, and you've read a number of other basketball books, read this one. Paul Shirley is a strange character, but you gain some insight into the world of "marginal" NBA players.
I can't quite figure what to make of Shirley, even after spending 300 plus pages with his thoughts. For one, he certainly tries too hard with his writing (constantly self-deprecating and pointing it out), something that could probably be fixed with more editing. Another is that he seems to casually burn every bridge he crosses, needlessly taking cheap shots at people left and right in the book. He also insults the intelligence and physical makeup of random strangers non-stop in the book, something I found a little hard to believe got published.
What I gathered in the end was this, Paul is likely an interesting guy to have a beer at the bar with, but there is a 99% chance he's judging you negatively right there if you're not exactly like him, and a pretty good chance he'll mock you in future writings of his. Shirley is intelligent and appears to be insightful, he just seems to lack compassion at times, and could use heeding the advice of "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it all" every now and then.
As far as the book itself goes, a few things come to mind. One, the absence of some characters is strange (at times it seems like he has no teammates, others they're everywhere), and ultimately it makes you wondering what he's skimming over. He randomly drops in stories about women, but they never really go anywhere, and it seems like that aspect is left out quite frequently. Three, things seem to randomly appear without much sense of the story (like how did he all the sudden own property in Kansas City?). Four, the tone definitely changes at the end when the last entries are blog posts written for ESPN, instead of pieces of his actual journal from his time abroad. More editing seems like it could have addressed these issues, and cleaned up the few typos I stumbled over.
Even though Shirley himself seems to dislike the NBA (and practically everything else not blood related to him), I left the book looking for more insight into his time in the NBA.
I can't quite figure what to make of Shirley, even after spending 300 plus pages with his thoughts. For one, he certainly tries too hard with his writing (constantly self-deprecating and pointing it out), something that could probably be fixed with more editing. Another is that he seems to casually burn every bridge he crosses, needlessly taking cheap shots at people left and right in the book. He also insults the intelligence and physical makeup of random strangers non-stop in the book, something I found a little hard to believe got published.
What I gathered in the end was this, Paul is likely an interesting guy to have a beer at the bar with, but there is a 99% chance he's judging you negatively right there if you're not exactly like him, and a pretty good chance he'll mock you in future writings of his. Shirley is intelligent and appears to be insightful, he just seems to lack compassion at times, and could use heeding the advice of "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say it all" every now and then.
As far as the book itself goes, a few things come to mind. One, the absence of some characters is strange (at times it seems like he has no teammates, others they're everywhere), and ultimately it makes you wondering what he's skimming over. He randomly drops in stories about women, but they never really go anywhere, and it seems like that aspect is left out quite frequently. Three, things seem to randomly appear without much sense of the story (like how did he all the sudden own property in Kansas City?). Four, the tone definitely changes at the end when the last entries are blog posts written for ESPN, instead of pieces of his actual journal from his time abroad. More editing seems like it could have addressed these issues, and cleaned up the few typos I stumbled over.
Even though Shirley himself seems to dislike the NBA (and practically everything else not blood related to him), I left the book looking for more insight into his time in the NBA.
February 6, 2010
In theory, this should have been a great book: journeyman pro basketball player details a four year period of his life, bouncing between the CBA, the European leagues, and the NBA.
In practice: flat-out, Paul Shirley is a spoiled, entitled, self-centered, racist, upper-middle class white asshole. I probably would have thought he was kind of a jerk even if he hadn't, in the middle of my reading this, come out saying horrifically racist things about the tragedy in Haiti (google "Paul Shirley Haiti" and boggle at how offensive one man can be), but he did, and all I could see in this book afterwards was Shirley's dismissal of everything he considered below him. He found no adventure in living overseas, just hated that it wasn't the States; he hated, pitied, and spoke patronizingly of 90% of his teammates in American leagues, primarily those who were openly Christian and invited Shirley to things as innocuous as road trip prayer meetings.
Paul Shirley basically thinks, and makes it clear in this book, that almost everyone involved in any level of professional basketball is not as awesome as he is, and I am glad that ESPN fired his racist, smug ass for his comments on Haiti. I just wish someone had told him publicly that he was a horrible human being before that, because all this book made me think was, "Damn, buddy, I'm glad I don't know you, because I'd have to punch you in the face if I did."
So. Read at your own peril. I mean, if you're into reading a rich white asshole's thinly veiled racist, classist and intellectual snipes at everyone who's been more successful in pro basketball than he has.
In practice: flat-out, Paul Shirley is a spoiled, entitled, self-centered, racist, upper-middle class white asshole. I probably would have thought he was kind of a jerk even if he hadn't, in the middle of my reading this, come out saying horrifically racist things about the tragedy in Haiti (google "Paul Shirley Haiti" and boggle at how offensive one man can be), but he did, and all I could see in this book afterwards was Shirley's dismissal of everything he considered below him. He found no adventure in living overseas, just hated that it wasn't the States; he hated, pitied, and spoke patronizingly of 90% of his teammates in American leagues, primarily those who were openly Christian and invited Shirley to things as innocuous as road trip prayer meetings.
Paul Shirley basically thinks, and makes it clear in this book, that almost everyone involved in any level of professional basketball is not as awesome as he is, and I am glad that ESPN fired his racist, smug ass for his comments on Haiti. I just wish someone had told him publicly that he was a horrible human being before that, because all this book made me think was, "Damn, buddy, I'm glad I don't know you, because I'd have to punch you in the face if I did."
So. Read at your own peril. I mean, if you're into reading a rich white asshole's thinly veiled racist, classist and intellectual snipes at everyone who's been more successful in pro basketball than he has.
September 23, 2011
Can I Keep My Jersey? by Paul Shirely is an interesting look at the life of a professional basketball player and is notable in the fact that most players aren't very reflective or pay much attention to detail. I guess it is informative about how the teams operate when injuries hit and how they acquire low level players to fill out rosters. I was disappointed in the lack of inside dirt on specific players-there are a few tidbits here and there, but he says very little about Steve Nash and Amare Stoudmire, even though he played most of the year with the 2005 Suns. I guess since these people are very much alive and active he had to be careful about what he says about them-so he focuses on general statements about how he doesn't really like pro basketball players and their hypocritical obsessions with religion. I would have liked to have heard more about the players he played with in Greece, Spain, and Russia, not to mention the cultures of those countries. I guess the book was mostly about his journey to realize his childhood dream of being an NBA player. But it seems as though he might not have and the most of his experiences living abroad when he dismisses all of Spanish cuisine due to some dodgy seafood-it seems suspect that he couldn't find anything good to say about Spanish cuisine. It was entertaining at times, but I felt the book could have been much more interesting had he wrote less about things that annoyed him and more about the amazing things he saw and did on his journey.
July 28, 2008
As advertised, this is definitely an unvarnished look at the contradictory experiences of a fringe NBA player. Seemingly transcribed from Shirley's blog/diary, the writing is always breezy and off-the-cuff, though that sometimes translates to dull or unconsidered.
March 17, 2015
Chockablock with moments of journalistic brilliance and hilarity. I'm not a die-hard basketball fan, but would gladly read this author's descriptions of washing the dishes or folding laundry...
August 9, 2025
On paper, this was a really cool concept. Getting to hear the reflections of a journeyman who traveled the world playing pro basketball in the NBA and elsewhere seemed very interesting. How it was carried out was disappointing.
Nearly every paragraph is broken up by parentheses with an aside, a snarky comment, or an attempt at a joke, making the book a slog to work through. Shirley is constantly looking down on others or complaining about his situation. While some of the humor lands, most of it doesn't, in part because the volume of it is just so annoyingly high to a fault. The more important part of the failure is that the humor is very dated and is - at best - smug, but - at worst - racist, sexist, and otherwise awful. His reflections on race, religion, sexuality, women, class, education, or really anything else are juvenile and condescending. It feels like a bad stand-up bit from the 70s even though it was written in the 2000s.
There was a lot of potential for genuine thoughts on what such a career would entail: battling through injuries; being away from home and from family; growth when you're the least talented person on a team's roster; traveling the world; working with people from different cultures, races, or backgrounds; balancing income while trying to make it in pro sports; or reflecting on one's self-worth when it's challenged by the uncertainty of career through the lens of athletics. Rather than doing any of that meaningfully, he always pulls back just shy and leans into a joke about how he's too macho for feeling anything or a diatribe about his disdain for pro athletes he's forced to be around.
Bummer.
Nearly every paragraph is broken up by parentheses with an aside, a snarky comment, or an attempt at a joke, making the book a slog to work through. Shirley is constantly looking down on others or complaining about his situation. While some of the humor lands, most of it doesn't, in part because the volume of it is just so annoyingly high to a fault. The more important part of the failure is that the humor is very dated and is - at best - smug, but - at worst - racist, sexist, and otherwise awful. His reflections on race, religion, sexuality, women, class, education, or really anything else are juvenile and condescending. It feels like a bad stand-up bit from the 70s even though it was written in the 2000s.
There was a lot of potential for genuine thoughts on what such a career would entail: battling through injuries; being away from home and from family; growth when you're the least talented person on a team's roster; traveling the world; working with people from different cultures, races, or backgrounds; balancing income while trying to make it in pro sports; or reflecting on one's self-worth when it's challenged by the uncertainty of career through the lens of athletics. Rather than doing any of that meaningfully, he always pulls back just shy and leans into a joke about how he's too macho for feeling anything or a diatribe about his disdain for pro athletes he's forced to be around.
Bummer.
January 5, 2020
An enthralling read. Very enjoyable. I highly recommend. Humor at its finest.
December 16, 2010
This account from a vagabond professional basketball player gives a behind-the-scenes look of what it means to be a vagabond basketball player. Reading that last sentence gives a sense of the entire substance of the story. Although this book received high reviews elsewhere for its wit and acerbic observations of locker-room life, I would add that these very qualities made me glad to finish the book. Ironically, the author rails against the intellectual depth of his fellow professional athletes and the seemingly never-ending sufferings and injustices he endures in his chosen profession -- but these observations soon become tiring in their mean-spiritedness. His sense of intellectual superiority over his teammates (and others) is the just a different iteration of the sense of superiority he despises in them.
Occasionally witty and offering back-room observations of the world of professional basketball, the book has its moments, but not enough to recommend this book except to the very, very hardcore sports-book reader.
Occasionally witty and offering back-room observations of the world of professional basketball, the book has its moments, but not enough to recommend this book except to the very, very hardcore sports-book reader.
October 21, 2014
I love basketball, and I like intelligent people, and travelling, and gossip, so, theoretically, this should have been a fabulous read. It wasn't. Shirley is narcissistic to the point of absurdity, and all of the self-conscious self-deprecation makes it all the worse. He would probably be an excellent color commentator, an excellent buddy, and an excellent member of your pick-up basketball team, but he should not be writing books. We expect so little of professional athletes, in terms of intelligence, and that's what made discovering Shirley's blogs exciting. He wields a large vocabulary, has good analytical skills, which get applied to a world seemingly bereft of them (the NBA), and has a sense of humor. Those abilities, combined with his status as a professional basketball player, made Paul Shirley's blogs worth a bi-weekly read. However, the 300+ page book is unnecessary.
October 7, 2012
John Feinstein did a wonderful job of following both ends of the tennis player spectrum in Hard Courts. He followed both star players and players that were just trying to earn enough money week to week in order to stay on tour. I really wanted this book to be like the latter set but for professional basketball. Instead, Paul Shirley talks about his life trying to make it while being largely unfunny, mean-spirited and ungrateful. He feels above his teammates and is angry that someone as intelligent and awesome as him isn't as good as the village idiots surrounding him. I bet he'd have taken away more positive experiences and made more friends if he weren't such an elitist jackass. He calls out some pretty famous people as idiots or terrible people. Also not a good way to make friends. No wonder no one goes the extra mile to keep this guy around.
October 1, 2015
Paul Shirley is most likely a smart guy and he desperately wants you to know it. Every other page seems to be stuffed with him putting other people down and judging others, while harping on about how "self-deprecating" he is. He seems aware that he's insufferable but he doesn't really care and it definitely comes across. Even if you can stand his whininess and faint racist overtones the most damning thing about the book is that the writing isn't very good. The narration is often dry and prone to uninteresting over-introspection.
The insights into NBA life are minimal and the only redeeming feature about the book are the details about the life of a fringe pro ball player (which are interesting but they're much less common than you'd expect, there's a lot of filler in this book)
Could have been a good book with a discerning, brutal editor
The insights into NBA life are minimal and the only redeeming feature about the book are the details about the life of a fringe pro ball player (which are interesting but they're much less common than you'd expect, there's a lot of filler in this book)
Could have been a good book with a discerning, brutal editor
August 30, 2019
There's a couple interesting stories but overall, it's a lot of whining. He's convinced he didn't make it in the NBA because he's white. He was making $20,0000 a month (after taxes) in Spain with a free apartment on the beach and a car but apparently that sucked. $55,000 a month also sucked.
There's an anecdote near the end about an old man who comes up and asks how tall he is and Shirley seems to be pissed off that people wonder just how tall he is. Old guy even helps him load his groceries but all Paul Shirley is concerned about is that he didn't want to hear the old man's stories about the Korean War.
I'm glad he got never played again in the NBA and that ESPN ended up firing him too.
There's an anecdote near the end about an old man who comes up and asks how tall he is and Shirley seems to be pissed off that people wonder just how tall he is. Old guy even helps him load his groceries but all Paul Shirley is concerned about is that he didn't want to hear the old man's stories about the Korean War.
I'm glad he got never played again in the NBA and that ESPN ended up firing him too.
March 18, 2020
Entirely brotastic. Apparently, he has disappeared after 2008, according to Wikipedia. But this was an account of the could-have-been-, almost-was, and that's what I found interesting.
Paul Shirley was a tall (6' 10") white guy from Kansas with fairly competent skills when that was who a lot of basketball teams wanted to see sitting on the bench. Sometimes he is quasi-associated with an NBA team and sometimes not. He was the "American guy" (only 2 per team!) in Greece, Spain, and Russia. And was on the Phoenix Suns roster when they were not great, and when they made the playoffs. That one time with Steve Nash.
So, yeah. Just sayin', it was definitely unfiltered. Which is why he eventually got fired from ESPN. Hope you found a landing place, bro.
Paul Shirley was a tall (6' 10") white guy from Kansas with fairly competent skills when that was who a lot of basketball teams wanted to see sitting on the bench. Sometimes he is quasi-associated with an NBA team and sometimes not. He was the "American guy" (only 2 per team!) in Greece, Spain, and Russia. And was on the Phoenix Suns roster when they were not great, and when they made the playoffs. That one time with Steve Nash.
So, yeah. Just sayin', it was definitely unfiltered. Which is why he eventually got fired from ESPN. Hope you found a landing place, bro.
August 1, 2021
This is a three-year diary in which a basketball player writes about professional sport, his opinions about his teammates and rivals (a surprising bad opinions), coaches and general managers. Shirley tells his struggles to make the NBA, and his experiencies playing in minor leagues and in Europe.
He pretends to write in a very self-deprecating way, but he really is a very conceited person; he makes a lot of racist, homophobic and sexist comments only to seem (supposedly) funny. Everything is written to be funny, at all times, and that way he spoils almost all the amusement. I give him that when he explains the clash of cultures in his trips overseas or when he tells the day-to-day of a profesional player who does not have a guaranteed contract, buy he goes beyond the pale.
He pretends to write in a very self-deprecating way, but he really is a very conceited person; he makes a lot of racist, homophobic and sexist comments only to seem (supposedly) funny. Everything is written to be funny, at all times, and that way he spoils almost all the amusement. I give him that when he explains the clash of cultures in his trips overseas or when he tells the day-to-day of a profesional player who does not have a guaranteed contract, buy he goes beyond the pale.
August 27, 2009
I should have loved this book. I'm a huge basketball fan, I'm the same age as the author, and I had the same major in college as the author (mechanical engineering). In the end I thought it was decent but not great. I enjoyed the insider's view of an American playing overseas, what an NBA player's day is like, etc. but it got old and I ultimately didn't finish the book. By regular person standards the guy's a great writer. By professional writer standards, the writing was kind of stilted and too florid. Worth picking up if you're interested in pro basketball and are able to read quickly and maintain reasonable expectations.
September 12, 2007
After the constant entertainment of Paul Shirley's blog entries, as he struggled with a career in professional basketball, I was excited to read his expanded tale. Surprisingly, at least to me, the sense of humor and deprecations that made Shirley's internet tales so engaging just don't work in print.
After one particularly long string of unrelated thoughts, I actually found myself saying "get an editor" out loud.
Still, it was enjoyable. And it offered some insights into the NBA that you wouldn't be able to find elsewhere. Unless you know someone who plays.
After one particularly long string of unrelated thoughts, I actually found myself saying "get an editor" out loud.
Still, it was enjoyable. And it offered some insights into the NBA that you wouldn't be able to find elsewhere. Unless you know someone who plays.
November 11, 2007
A very quick read, I found it interesting to see the perspective of the reasonably self-aware jock. The book has a foreword by Chuck Klosterman, in which Klosterman describes Shirley as a journalist who has deep exposure to but never becomes one of the privileged NBA players with whom he plays. While appearing to be more self-aware and self-deprecating than the typical NBA player, Shirley still sounds like a privileged frat boy/jock who doesn't realize that of some of his language or attitudes might be shallow or problematic, no matter the ironic pose he affects.
September 30, 2009
I admit it. I didn't finish this autobiography. I got about 50 pages in and had to stop. Now, trust me, I like basketball, and I found some parts of this book interesting. The whole concept of trying out for NBA teams was new to me. You always hear about the superstars who have everyone begging for them, but you don't hear about the great players who are considered "great" in the NBA. So that part was fascinating. But I found Shirley's writing to be rather bitter. He was a great writer, but I just didn't get sucked into the book. And for me to read a memoir, I have to be drawn in.
January 21, 2011
I was expecting to like this book, as I thought the narrator’s rather rare perspective would make for prime entertainment.
Total letdown. Gave up around page 80 (I guess I’m assuming the rest wasn’t drastically different ?).
The many jokes were either lame or way too convoluted, not to mention forced.
I was also expecting far more dirt to be dished and disclosed.
Considering the author’s experiences, intelligence, and indifference to being liked, there was so much that could’ve, should’ve been done with this book.
Total letdown. Gave up around page 80 (I guess I’m assuming the rest wasn’t drastically different ?).
The many jokes were either lame or way too convoluted, not to mention forced.
I was also expecting far more dirt to be dished and disclosed.
Considering the author’s experiences, intelligence, and indifference to being liked, there was so much that could’ve, should’ve been done with this book.
August 7, 2015
Con bastante retraso me he leído el libro de Paul Shirley. Había leído comentarios decepcionantes sobre este libro, pero a mi me ha parecido interesante y muy divertido. Cuenta todas sus andanzas por múltiples equipos, con sus grandezas y miserias, con mucha ironía y riéndose de él mismo y de todos los demás. El tono es un poco adolescente o incluso infantil (lo que es parte de la gracia del libro). Se presenta como un inadaptado en todo momento a pesar de haber circulado por un montón de países y equipos. No es un estudio sociológico, eso está claro, pero me resultó un buen libro.
May 6, 2016
Good read. In this book Paul Shirley writes about the nomadic, insecure lifestyle of trying to secure a position on an NBA team. In pursuing that dream he plays overseas and throughout the USA in 'minor leagues'. Very interesting. And Shirley's writing is filled with humor so the book feels like a quick read.
My parents possibly had Suns tickets during a season Shirley played. I'll have to loan the book to them and see what they think.
I'm counting this as "a book about sports" for 2016 #vtReadingChallenge
My parents possibly had Suns tickets during a season Shirley played. I'll have to loan the book to them and see what they think.
I'm counting this as "a book about sports" for 2016 #vtReadingChallenge
March 1, 2017
- Really cool to get an inside look at professional basketball life. Lots and lots of crazy stories that are interesting to know about. Being a big basketball fan, I place a lot of value on learning what it's like "on the inside".
- Genuinely funny book.
- Towards the middle of the book, it starts to get pretty repetitive. The author even acknowledges this; it's because it's a journal, and the same events keep happening to him. It does pick back up at times and I don't regret continuing to read the whole thing, but I think the book could have been trimmed down to 200-250 pages.
- Genuinely funny book.
- Towards the middle of the book, it starts to get pretty repetitive. The author even acknowledges this; it's because it's a journal, and the same events keep happening to him. It does pick back up at times and I don't regret continuing to read the whole thing, but I think the book could have been trimmed down to 200-250 pages.
April 22, 2008
ugh. i picked this up b/c it said "introduction by Chuck Klosterman" and i LIKE chuck klosterman and didn't think he would lead me astray, but alas. The best part of the book was the introduction, and downhill from there. It sounded like an interesting story, about the underworld of professional basketball players, and this guys life playing all over the world for money. But it's written so terribly, like a 15 yr old trying to be sarcastic and clever. didn't work for me.
January 4, 2009
I really wanted to like this book and its author - he writes with the sly, sarcastic sense of humor that I usually really like - but somehow it just didn't grab me. I get the feeling that his self-deprecating style hides a really big ego, and I found myself wishing I knew enough about pro basketball to know if this guy is legit or just a wannabe. But for anyone who thinks the life of a non-star pro athlete is easy, this is a must-read reality check.
May 5, 2013
If you like basketball, especially professional b'ball, you might like this book. I enjoyed the basketball stories, but truly found the author's condescension towards his fellow players and, frankly, humans in general very off-putting. He claims to be more intellectual than his peers, yet seems to have trouble creating his "witty" parenthetical statements without using offensive terms (he likes the word retard a lot) and belittling others. It was tough for me to get through this book.
February 19, 2008
I like a good snarky commentary as much as the next guy, but I was disappointed by this one. I can see this working as a blog, but as a book, the journal format failed to hold up the narrative, and it ran out of steam after about half the book.
Meanwhile, I just noticed that goodreads has the subtitle listed wrong.
Meanwhile, I just noticed that goodreads has the subtitle listed wrong.
October 9, 2016
I've heard that the first rule of writing is to just write without editing yourself. It is clear Mr. Shirley learned that first rule. I wish he would have learned others. I kept reading because basketball is dear to me and I will read practically anything about it. There was some nice stuff, but I was hoping he would explore what separated him from the better NBA players.
June 9, 2008
Ok, my husband bought this book for himself. It is some basketball player basically just writing stuff that he thinks. It's surprisingly interesting so far.
(A month later). This guy is annoying. I pretty much stopped readint this book.
(A month later). This guy is annoying. I pretty much stopped readint this book.
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