My Losing Season

This was a book I put off reading for years. I knew it was about basketball, and I don’t know much about that sport and wasn’t eager to read my favorite novelist writing about it. In addition, since Pat Conroy’s death in 2016, I’ve been putting off reading the last book by him that I’d not yet read (except for Mr. Boo which seems really hard for me to acquire). I didn’t want to never again read something new by this author.

I started reading this book and found it hard going at first. Reading about game after game of basketball was a challenge, but in between the game talk (and I did learn about basketball while reading this memoir), I recognized that luminous prose of Conroy’s. I found it hard to revisit the physical and show more psychological pain Conroy’s father inflicted upon him, but later came to understand (once again), that Conroy’s relationship with his dad mellowed through the years. I found it difficult to read about Coach Mel Thompson who pushed his basketball team hard with never any mercy.

It was at the end of the book, I began to fall apart. It had all the feels as Conroy met with his former teammates and coach after many years. Conroy talked about what his school, The Citadel, his coach, his teammates and his experience of being on a “losing team” meant to him. The writing was beautiful, and the way Conroy expressed himself was deeply moving. I did cry at the end. show less

There are few books that affect me when they are over. Ones that make me sad and depressed because I will no longer be with the characters. Ones that can break my heart so much that when I turn the last page, I end up crying or even sobbing because I have grown to love the characters and/or I wish the book wasn’t done.

This is one of those books. My Losing Season is about Pat’s last year as point guard and captain of The 1966-67 Citadel Bulldogs and about his childhood with a strict and abusive father which defined him as a man.

When I say “Pat Conroy” in my head or out loud, I hear the voice of Jay O. Sanders who read the book. Jay has a slightly southern accent that fits perfectly with the book. While listening, I wondered how show more many times Jay read the book to know when to put feeling and passion into the dialog because he does a fantastic job.

Now granted, some people don’t like sports or some people can take it or leave it. I work in sports and I love sports. I’m not obsessed, but I enjoy a good game of basketball where the players play their hearts out and leave all of it on the court. During the Bulldogs’ losing season, you felt the passion and love of the game; you felt just how hard they fought. I found myself cheering for them even though the games were played back in 1966 and 1967. I cried after Pat had the best game of his life and his Dad still called him a loser and shoved him up against a wall.

I cried and laughed while driving to and from work. I sat in my car in the parking garage before work as I finished listening to the book, surprised by the afterward by the author himself (I should have read the cover closer).

His short speech left me sobbing in the car, tears streaming down my face as I walked into work and got on the elevator.

I’m glad I decided to take a chance on this book. I’m glad I listened to it during March Madness as the Big 12 Men’s Basketball Championship roared into town and I will listen to it every March Madness as Pat reminds me each time that you have to believe in yourself. Not everyone will be affected by Pat’s story as I was, but that’s okay. I’m just glad I got to experience the 1966-67 Citadel basketball team’s losing season and the young man of Pat Conroy. show less

Somewhat to my surprise, this is one of my favorite Pat Conroy books, and it's a memoir. Perhaps it's the fact that it's so personal (though I think all his novels are personal on some level) that makes it so immediate. The prose is pure Conroy and his love of the game of basketball practically leaps off the page. Though I've watched basketball my entire life, Conroy gave me new insight and appreciation for the sometimes lowly point guard position. The heartbreak of Conroy's father never watching his son play his beloved game underlies every chapter, but this book rewards the reader with life lessons and appreciations for all that sport can do for a lost boy.

A memoir of the author's senior year at The Citadel, when he played point guard for the basketball team. A lot will be familiar to Conroy fans, including the occasionally over-wrought prose, but his main theme of learning from setbacks and defeat is worthwhile.

I just finished another book yesterday. It's one I've had for years and put off reading despite its author, Pat Conroy, being one of my favorites. My Losing Season was every wonderful thing I expected it to be, but I know why I put off reading it for so long.

Conroy is a master of language. His words dance, spin and stab like few other authors. I've had to read passages of his books aloud because they're so beautiful. The family knows by now, when I'm reading Conroy, to expect, "Oh, listen to this." His descriptions are poetry, yet I've never felt like he crosses the line into just diddling with beautiful words just because he can. He's also the author who has best given this overly estrogen saturated female a comprehensible glimpse into show more the mysteries of the male psyche. I enjoyed The Prince of Tides as a movie as long as I didn't think too hard or long about the book. The movie became a story for women. Only glimpses of the terror and agony that made this very much a man's tale showed through. The Lords of Discipline, The Great Santini, The Water is Wide, Beach Music and The Boo reek of delectably prime testosterone, and My Losing Season places that aroma right in the heart of a locker room.

What draws me to Conroy though is not just the sheer masculinity of his novels. It's the vulnerability, the secret weapon of the most dangerous men. I've fallen a little bit in love with Ben Meecham, Will McLean, Tom Wingo and Jack McCall. It would be hard not to with those manly, outdoorsy men who can cook, admit to both intentionally and inadvertently seriously hurting the women in their lives, cry and love being daddies. He's also damn good at letting people see what it's like being a white Southerner caught between what's hateful, ridiculous and glorious about our part of this American subculture.

Despite my almost but not quite silly state of Conroy fandom, I still put off reading My Losing Season until I was too sick to get up and find another book. This literal autobiography began with a confession of mediocrity and went on to tell how Conroy ended being a basketball player and how he became a writer. (I got chills at the scene where he was asked to autograph one of his books at the desk where William Faulkner had written Absalom, Absalom!) I loved reading about his growing confidence as a young man, a basketball player and writer. The simplicity he used to show the pains and joys in his life as a military brat, his reconciliation with his father and The Citadel, the reunion of his team and seeing his old coach again made me want to strip every bit of sentimentality from my writing and make it as real as I can.

I loved this book just as I expected to, but I had to be ready to be honest with myself before I could read it. That was why I delayed, and ultimately why Pat Conroy is one of my favorite writers. I cannot avoid being grimly honest about my life and my talents when I read his books, but I always come away with the knowledge that brilliance burned through and past the mediocrities in his characters and the hope that it can do the same with me. show less

The one thing that every human being has in common is that we all have failed at something at one point in our lives. Pat Conroy is no different. My Losing Season is a compelling memoir about Pat Conroy's senior year as an undersized point guard playing NCAA Division Basketball at the Citadel, a military college in the South. Throughout the 402 pages, Conroy's narrative is incredibly compelling, as he reflects on the lessons he learned being as he and his team suffered loss after loss and his hopes of a glorious senior year went up in flames. Conroy's writing style is reflective and heart-wrenching, and I was sad to find myself turning the last page, only because I had grown fond of Conroy's memories and the way he artfully communicated show more them to the reader. My Losing Season is a great book not only for basketball fans, but also for anyone who enjoys inspiring stories of defeat, perseverance, and overcoming adversity.

Warning: If this book were a movie, it would be rated R because of the language. show less

MY LOSING SEASON. Pat Conroy. 2002. I never thought I’d read a basketball memoir, but when I saw this for a dollar at the Habitat for Humanity Store I couldn’t resist. I have never regretted reading anything by Pat Conroy. I was lost reading the descriptions of basketball games, but in addition to being an account of the Citadel basketball season 1966-1067; this was also an account of Conroy’s teen and college years which is always interesting. The best part of the book is Conroy’s recollections of what happened to the individual players and coaches after they finished the season and what happened to Conroy. The most moving part of the book was at the end when Conroy talks about his classmates who went to Vietnam while he was show more protesting the war: “Now I understand I should have protested the war after my return from Vietnam, after I had done my duty. I have come to a conclusion about my country that I knew in my bones, but lacked the courage to act on: America is a good enough country to die for even when she is wrong.” show less