Sep 23, 07
Read in September, 2007
Riffing off a Kobe Bryant template, James Boice tells the story of an exceptional groomed from birth to become the next Darren Dickinson (for some reason Scribner's counsel weren't cool with the MJ handle).
Staring with his conception, the story selectively travels from his youth (and daily regiment of wind sprints, wheatgrass shots & coffee enemas) to a post-prime off-season mishap in a Las Vegas hotel room that ends with a single-white-nude-dead-female.
Boise's dialogue is spot-on, and has a wicked sense of humor. I look forward to his future work.