I’ve never been through a book process like this one. And that’s really a nice way of saying that I pushed a lot of people to their limits with my self-doubt, last-minute changes, and publication delays.
I love reading acknowledgments from other authors just so I can learn from their journeys. I usually walk away feeling guilty. They’re so organized; what’s my problem?
That thought first occurred to me as I scanned notes and emails from the beginning of what was going to be the first book. There was a congratulatory email about the birth of our daughter, Ava. She is now eight years old.
So, truly, thank you to all the publishers, editors, publicists, marketers, copyeditors, bookstores, and readers who were more patient with me than I would have been. I’m grateful for everyone who didn’t cuss me out—in person—after receiving those, “Well, here’s the thing…” phone calls.
My editor, Brant Rumble, was understanding and resourceful whenever I told him what I was going through. I’m sure he took some hits that I should have taken. In fact, I once begged him to tell his bosses that he was dealing with an unreasonable author, and he refused to do it. Thank you, Brant, for your calming reassurances. Hachette has a great team with Susan Weinberg, Michelle Aielli, Mollie Weisenfeld, Quinn Fariel, Michael Giarratano, Megan Schindele, and many others.
There are four people who had all access to every stage of the book: my wife, Oni, and our children, Robinson, Beckham, and Ava. This is the seventh book project I’ve been blessed to be a part of, and Oni has been with me for six of them. She is able to offer loving encouragement when she sees me down, and she knows just the loving—and forceful—way to say that it’s time to get to work. She runs our house well all the time, but she does it with particular precision during my long stretches of inaccessibility, moodiness, and time spent walking around talking to myself about some transition in the narrative.
Oni is one of those supremely organized people, and she often has the kids’ schedules—what they’re doing and when—posted on a board in the house. For example, one will read, “Robinson—Piano, 3:00 p.m.” Or “Beckham—Soccer (of course), 5:30 p.m.” For me, the sign says, “Daddy—Write.”
No time. Just write. Always. How direct is that? I fall into another layer of love with her daily. I’m grateful for our kids, too. They gave me a push at the end of the book when they told me that the three of them got together and prayed for me to finish. When I told them that I was done, they wrapped me in the greatest hug of my life.
It’s not easy to open your organization to an outsider, especially when you’re unsure of what exactly will be written. Thanks to the Celtics for their openness during all phases of the project, including the first one in which I traveled on the team plane, rode on team buses, watched team practices, and even got a salary-cap tutorial that I still need to study (how Daryl Morey was able to master it in a weekend is beyond me). There are numerous people, in several roles, who were helpful: Wyc Grousbeck, Steve Pagliuca, Bob Epstein, Jim Cash, Rich Gotham, Shawn Sullivan, Danny Ainge, Mike Zarren, Christian Megliola, Doc Rivers, Brad Stevens, Tommy Heinsohn, Chris Wallace, Antoine Walker, Leon Powe, Jeff Twiss, Annemarie Loflin, Heather Walker, Brian Olive, Cedric Maxwell, M. L. Carr, Sean Grande, and Mike Gorman.
There are many others who put in extra effort just to make my life easier: Raymond Ritter—it’s no wonder the Warriors are at the top of the league in public relations year after year (what a pro); Mike Brown; Al Michaels; Dan Masonson; Tracey Hughes; Sean McCloskey; Daryl Morey; and Terrell Brandon, who not only got a chance to play with KG and Ray Allen but also got a personal scouting report on his game from Prince himself. Amazing.
I began teaching at Boston University in 2018, and it’s been a thoroughly enriching experience. My colleagues and students there have challenged and inspired me to be better. Three BU researchers, who are all working journalists now, were rigorous in their information gathering for this project: Alex MacDougall, Greg Levinsky, and Trevor Ballantyne. It got to the point where I couldn’t get Ballantyne away from the Boston courts because he was so determined to get detailed information on Paul Pierce from September 2000. I hesitate to name specific professors, because you know how that goes; someone is inevitably left out. Still, the university has been in great hands with the last two deans in the College of Communication, Tom Fiedler and Mariette DiChristina; my neighbor, Chris Daly, who shared all of his classroom tips; Bill McKeen; Michelle Johnson; Sarah Kess; Damon Carlson; Jenn Underhill; Tina Martin; Marisa Moseley; my family at the Howard Thurman Center, including Kenn Elmore; Katherine Kennedy; Nick Bates; and Mitch Zuckoff, a superb professor and author who gave a narrative presentation that unlocked a lot of things for me.
Several current and former colleagues at NBC Sports Boston have been supportive: Kevin Miller, who helped me find full TV copies of old games to dissect, such as Pierce versus LeBron in 2006; Princell Hair; Chris Wayland; Kayce Smith; Tom Giles; A. Sherrod Blakely; Chris Forsberg; Abby Chin; Kyle Draper; Danielle Trotta; Tom E. Curran; DJ Bean; Courtney Gustafson; Paul Lucey; Jim Burgoyne; and Jim Aberdale and his team on the Emmy-winning Anything Is Possible documentary (Jason Brown, Josh Canu).
There’s no way I’d be able to function during these intense times without prayer and the sound teaching across the country of men and women of God. I’ve never physically attended some of these churches, but I’ve been blessed as a virtual congregant. Boston: Myrtle Baptist; Bethel AME; Morningstar; Marsh Chapel; St. Mary of the Assumption. Alexandria, Virginia: Alfred Street Baptist. Richmond: St. Paul’s Baptist. Goldsboro, North Carolina: Greenleaf Christian. Chicago: Trinity United Church of Christ. Minneapolis: Christ Presbyterian Church. Akron, Ohio: Mt. Calvary Baptist (founded by my great-grandfather); Arlington Street Church of God. Houston: Wheeler Avenue. Louisville: Bates Memorial; Pleasantville, New Jersey: Mt. Zion. Biblical scholars: Judy Fentress-Williams, Renita Weems, Abraham Smith, Valerie Bridgeman, Frank A. Thomas.
My family, whether biological or my Brother From Another, Michael Smith, has always given me strength. The Holleys, Sales, Soberanises, Prestons, Robinsons, Igartuas, Shakurs, and Greens… I love you. When I told Smith about this book’s dedication and the meaning of it, he gave me a directive: “Just write it. Don’t worry about anything else; it’s bigger than basketball.”
The book is dedicated to my grandparents, Kathryn Sales Darnell and Goldman Booker. My grandfather was fearless and wise. I think of some of the things he told me when I was a kid, and I’m just now understanding some of his powerful lessons.
My grandmother was one of the best storytellers I’ve ever met. I used to tease her and say I knew I was getting better at it because she’d finally let me get to the end of my stories (tough crowd—if the thing was boring, she’d shut it down). She was hilarious and well versed in laughter, the Lord’s Prayer, and the (non-NBA) lottery.
I’m grateful for the gift of being placed in their care. My grandmother, Nana, used to read every basketball article I wrote as a young reporter for the Akron Beacon Journal. She never missed a single one, and she enjoyed quizzing me about what I’d seen around the country as I covered the NBA. This is my first book on basketball, and when I close my eyes, I can imagine her reading it—and making it to the end.