This is a good book, albeit one that needed a more forceful editor. Pat Conroy is a particularly emotional and effusive author who has a tendency to use superlatives about everything in his life. I didn't mind that for 90% of the book, but after a while, it begins to grate. Conroy is always a failure, a bad husband, an unworthy friend while the people in his life are giants of humanity, saints and true companions. Of course, neither is the case. The same emotional element holds true with his writing, which is very good and engaging but at the same time wanders all over the place. The irony of this book is that it is an undisciplined work about The Citadel, a school that is symbolic of discipline.
It is about the 1966-67 Citadel basketball team. This is a team that had a losing season under a bad coach, and Conroy tells that tale beautifully. The melancholy, enigmatic and harsh coach, especially, is the star (or, anti-star) of the book, along with Conroy's abusive father. I personally believe that if the book had been more restricted in its scope, i.e sticking to the 1966-67 basketball season, it could have gone down as a true classic, especially in the genre of sports. However, Conroy, his editor, or both, allow the book to get out well out of hand and move well beyond the central narrative.
There are tales of Conroy's abusive childhood. Stories about the mothers of girls he dated. Stories about teammates who went on to be prisoners of war in Viet Nam. Accounts of how Conroy reconciled with his father years after the basketball season. A dialogue between Conroy and one of the *fictional* characters in one of his *other* books, "The Lords of Discipline" (huh? oh, the fictional character is a basketball player...and the book is about basketball and...) There are ruminations about the nature of time and the general philosophy of time. Yes, philosophy of time. It goes on and on. The saving grace of all of these departures is that they are interesting and well written so they don't generate resentment, but the result is a great book about basketball surrounded by a big, entertaining but sloppy mess. Given Pat Conroy's personality, I blame his editor.
All that being said, there was never a time when I was reading this book that I was bored or wondering when it would end. The subject matter of the coach, the team and the ill-fated 66-67 basketball season was always interesting and engaging. But soon, the author is off telling us about how he almost got into a fist fight in Hardees in 1995 over Shannon Faulkner going to the Citadel and I found myself wondering: How did we get here? So, a worthy read, but a sprawling, messy work at the same time.