By: Frederick Exley
This book, a cult classic written in 1968, is an honest and intelligent account
of the life of a lonely, mentally ill, alcoholic obsessed with football and Frank
Gifford, the NY Giants running back. While this may sound like Charles Bukowski, it
is more thoughtful and human. The book is at times hilarious, at times angry and
always deeply sad. But somehow it manages to avoid being depressing. You may be
surprised at how much you have to learn from someone in Exley's shoes.
Reviewer: Michele Ostrow