“A Hindsight 20/20 Book Review: My Losing Season, by Pat Conroy”
One of the things I’ve enjoyed doing as part of my writer’s journey is researching the sports-themed works of other authors. For this post, I’ve written a book review of My Losing Season, by Pat Conroy. The book is a memoir that recounts the triumphs and failures of Conroy’s life as a cadet and student athlete on the 1966-1967 Citadel basketball team. It was recommended to me by one of my former high school basketball coaches, Dennis Bradley. Mr. Bradley taught English for 35 years, mostly in my hometown of Portage, Wisconsin. Throughout his teaching and coaching career he spent decades impacting the lives of generations of students, both in and out of the classroom. High school football and basketball, Little League baseball, and even Division 3 college basketball. Mr. Bradley has coached at every level. If anyone understands the teaching power of sports, it’s him, which makes his recommendation of a book like My Losing Season all the more appropriate.
My Losing Season is a coming-of-age story that details the life lessons Conroy learned during his final year of athletic competition at The Citadel. Wonderful and heartbreaking alike, his experiences on and off the court would serve as his greatest impetus for future success as a New York Times bestselling novelist. The book describes the transformation Conroy underwent from a childhood of torment at the hands of an abusive father, to the tranquility and exhilaration he would discover atop the refuge of a basketball court, along with the appreciation for what the game would teach him about courage, dignity, and the humanity of losing.
Conroy’s memoir offers a raw, introspective, and honest look into the windows of his youth. The eldest of seven children, his adolescence was marred by physical and psychological violence at the hands of his father, Don, a colonel in the United States Marine Corps and decorated fighter pilot. In an early scene of My Losing Season, we learn how Don, on his first day home following a year-long tour of duty overseas, had slapped Conroy’s then four-year-old brother across the face in an effort to reassert his authority over the children in the house. Conroy also describes a personal account of how at ten years old, he was nearly blinded when his father hurled a glass of iced tea directly into his face while the family was eating dinner. Unrelenting, Conroy’s writing has a pulse of authenticity to it, and leaves little doubt in the mind of the reader that his tribulations were real. Despite the chaos, his existence was not defined by his father’s abuse thanks to the one thing he would always call the love of his life: the game of basketball.
As we learn in My Losing Season, the insecurities of Conroy’s childhood would serve as a prelude to the emotional and physical challenges he’d later experience at The Citadel; a military college known for its extreme levels of ritualistic hazing. It was there that he’d play college basketball under head coach Mel Thompson; an uncompromising authoritarian who, ironically, would author the newest installment of enigmatic dark chapters in Conroy’s life. The consummate survivor, Conroy would endure his coach, drawing upon the friendship and loyalty he felt for his teammates and, again, his unyielding love for the game of basketball.
Conroy narrates his basketball memories using candid details, from the pickup games of his youth, to his game-by-game recollections of his tumultuous senior year at The Citadel. The basketball sequences are well-crafted, with an eloquent balance of internal reflection and fast-paced action. Conroy keeps the reader guessing through every turn of the page, allowing them to become emotionally invested in the highs and lows of his team’s season. The affection Conroy felt for his teammates is clear. There’s an unblemished light he projects upon them, both as people and as athletes, which stands in stark contrast to the self-effacing tone he reserves for himself. One of the most surprising aspects of the memoir is that despite everything Conroy experienced, from the hell-scape portrait of his childhood, to the plebian dystopia of life at The Citadel, his perceived shortcomings as a basketball player remain his biggest insecurity, and the one devil he cannot seem to shake. What Conroy doesn’t credit himself for is the very thing which draws the reader to him, which whether by chance or design, is hidden between the lines of My Losing Season in classic “show, don’t tell” form. It’s also what earned him the respect of his teammates, and is arguably the greatest attribute of his life: his unconquerable spirit.
The elegance of Conroy’s writing doesn’t begin and end with exclusive reservation for the game of basketball, and can be found in even the darkest corners of My Losing Season. What results is a courageous story about life lessons learned, and because of his honesty, he ends up demonstrating a level of courage few authors can claim to have achieved. He speaks the truth about his life, his circumstances, and his basketball team. As a writer, there’s nothing more noble, or, difficult to do.
If you’ve read My Losing Season, I’d be curious to hear your opinions about it. I found the book interesting on a number of levels. I enjoyed the way Conroy crafted the action of basketball games and practices, and the storylines he told that emphasized the bonds of friendship between him and his teammates. His journey of personal growth is fascinating, as are his rather harrowing depictions of Don Conroy and Coach Thompson. If you haven’t read My Losing Season, then I encourage you to consider it. Be aware that portions of the book contain violence and crude language, so discretion is advised. As always, feedback is welcomed and appreciated.
Take care everyone!
- Todd
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