the apex of visual delight and an unimpeachable thesis on the modern game， this book makes the case why basketball is never quite basketball。 no doubt a skill honed through years of navigating the inane snake pit of NBA twitter， Detrick has a gift for the zinger。 here’s a favorite: “A human Scotch bonnet pepper， Kevin Garnett had spiciness reserved for the Scoville scale。” and another， “Despite the latticework of rules and draconian penalties created to prevent fighting on the court—a concern th the apex of visual delight and an unimpeachable thesis on the modern game， this book makes the case why basketball is never quite basketball。 no doubt a skill honed through years of navigating the inane snake pit of NBA twitter， Detrick has a gift for the zinger。 here’s a favorite: “A human Scotch bonnet pepper， Kevin Garnett had spiciness reserved for the Scoville scale。” and another， “Despite the latticework of rules and draconian penalties created to prevent fighting on the court—a concern that is mysteriously absent from， say， baseball and hockey—professional basketball players are mocked for being uneager to exchange volleys of fisticuffs like inebriated pugilists。” rarely do i read basketball writing with the same gleeful attentiveness as i would， say， a novel， but every entry somehow captures the tensions， paradoxes， understated genius， and mythological heft of the many men and women who made the game what it is。 kuo’s visual entries， too， are vital statements on the emotional and comic depth of various NBA-related lore。 gamelike in their own way， kuo’s abstracted codes systematize a way of reading the game along with the at-times profound moral lessons that go along with it。 in a chart that cites， “lessons learned from linsanity”， kuo coolly remarks， “delight is watching an improbable success” and， “two or so weeks every ten years is good enough”。 i cannot disagree。 maybe being a fan is， as they admit， a futile effort， full of sound and fury signifying nothing。 at its worst， being a fan corrodes our ability to see players as other than the living vessels of our own limitation， whose failures in the game reinforce our own。 but maybe it is witnessing the heights of achievement， the innovations on the form， and the significance of basketball to the texture of american life over the past half-century that affirm the quiet moral lessons that emerge if we look closer at the game。 at its most abstract， the book argues for an act of reading life as a series of random bounces， a constant fade away in game seven， a ball that bounces to laws unbounded by the false axioms of clutchness or skill。 it’s allen iverson’s love of the game when the game didn’t give him all he deserved。 it’s accepting the result。 it’s the joy of basketball。 。。。more