There’s something magical about a basketball arcing through the air on a summer evening, the squeak of sneakers on asphalt, the satisfying swish of the net. For many of us who grew up in small Midwest towns or inner cities, the game was more than just a pastime—it was a lifeline, a proving ground, a canvas for our dreams. In “There’s Always This Year,” Hanif Abdurraqib captures this essence with a poet’s eye and a fan’s heart, weaving together memoir, cultural criticism, and sports history into a tapestry as rich and complex as Ohio itself.
The King and His Court
At the center of Abdurraqib’s narrative is LeBron James, the once and future king of Ohio basketball. But this isn’t just another biography of the NBA superstar. Instead, LeBron serves as a prism through which Abdurraqib examines larger themes of talent, expectation, and what it means to “make it” out of a place like Ohio.
The author’s recollections of watching a young LeBron dominate high school games are electric:
“I don’t recall when I first heard of the five black boys who made their way to Ann Arbor in 1991, but I know I heard of them before I saw them. This is a miracle of the past—one that many young folks might not have the opportunity to indulge in now. Hearing word of something, someone, some brewing storm. Hearing before seeing, building up the myth before confirming it.”
Abdurraqib’s prose crackles with energy, transporting us courtside to witness the birth of a legend. But he’s equally adept at capturing the bittersweet aftermath of LeBron’s departure from Cleveland, exploring how a city’s identity can become so intertwined with its athletic heroes.
More Than a Game
While basketball is the book’s backbone, Abdurraqib uses the sport as a springboard to explore deeper issues. He delves into the racial dynamics of Ohio, the economic struggles of post-industrial cities, and the complex relationship between athletes and the communities they represent.
One particularly poignant section examines the author’s own experiences with police brutality and racial profiling, drawing parallels between the hyper-scrutiny placed on young black athletes and the everyday dangers faced by black youth in America.
A Poet’s Touch
What sets “There’s Always This Year” apart is Abdurraqib’s lyrical, often experimental prose style. He seamlessly blends straightforward narrative with poetic interludes, stream-of-consciousness reflections, and even occasional diagrams or visual elements.
Consider this passage on the art of the jump shot:
“The anatomy of a chasedown block relies on fear. It’s woven together by what you refuse to see coming, even if you know that it might be barreling toward you. This, of course, is a by-product of what has been drilled into a life, well before a stage as large and as high-stakes as a Game 7 in the NBA Finals.”
It’s this kind of evocative, metaphor-rich writing that elevates the book beyond simple sports journalism into something approaching literature.
Ohio’s Favorite Son
While LeBron James looms large, Abdurraqib also shines a spotlight on lesser-known Ohio basketball legends. From the high-flying Kenny Gregory to the tragic story of Estaban Weaver, these vignettes paint a vivid picture of Ohio’s rich basketball culture.
The author’s personal connection to these stories is palpable. You can feel his pride in Ohio’s basketball heritage, even as he grapples with the complexities and contradictions of his home state.
More Than Nostalgia
It would be easy for a book like this to slip into mere nostalgia, but Abdurraqib avoids that trap. He’s clear-eyed about Ohio’s problems—economic inequality, racial tensions, the opioid crisis—even as he celebrates its resilience and creativity.
This balanced approach gives the book a depth and nuance that’s often lacking in sports writing. Abdurraqib isn’t content to simply lionize athletic heroes; he wants us to understand the full context of their achievements and the communities that shaped them.
A Few Bumps in the Road
While “There’s Always This Year” is largely a triumph, it’s not without its flaws. At times, Abdurraqib’s poetic digressions can feel self-indulgent, pulling us away from the narrative’s momentum. Some readers might find themselves wishing for a more linear structure, especially in the book’s middle sections where the timeline becomes somewhat jumbled.
Additionally, while Abdurraqib’s personal experiences add valuable context, there are moments where the balance tips too far toward memoir and away from the broader cultural analysis. A tighter focus on the book’s central themes might have made for an even more compelling read.
The Verdict
Despite these minor quibbles, “There’s Always This Year” is a remarkable achievement. Abdurraqib has crafted a love letter to basketball, to Ohio, and to the transformative power of sports in shaping individual and community identities.
This book will resonate deeply with anyone who’s ever found solace or purpose on a basketball court, but its appeal extends far beyond sports fans. It’s a meditation on talent, ambition, and the complex relationship between individuals and the places that shape them.
“There’s Always This Year” cements Hanif Abdurraqib’s place as one of America’s most insightful and lyrical cultural critics. Like his previous works “They Can’t Kill Us Until They Kill Us” and “A Little Devil in America,” this book showcases his unique ability to blend personal narrative with incisive social commentary.
It’s no surprise that “There’s Always This Year” was selected for Barack Obama’s 2024 Summer Reading List. The former president, a noted basketball enthusiast himself, likely recognized the book’s ability to use sports as a lens for examining larger American issues.
In Good Company
Fans of “There’s Always This Year” might also enjoy:
- “Boom Town” by Sam Anderson – A similarly genre-blending look at Oklahoma City through the lens of its NBA team
- “The City Game” by Pete Axthelm – A classic examination of New York City basketball culture
- “Basketball (and Other Things)” by Shea Serrano – A humorous and insightful dive into basketball history and culture
Room for Improvement
While “There’s Always This Year” is a strong offering, there are a few areas where it could have been even better:
- A more consistent structure might have helped readers navigate the sometimes non-linear narrative.
- Additional context on Ohio’s broader sports culture (beyond basketball) could have provided interesting parallels.
- More varied voices – while Abdurraqib’s perspective is valuable, including more interviews or first-hand accounts from other Ohio basketball figures could have added depth.
Final Thoughts
“There’s Always This Year” is a slam dunk for Hanif Abdurraqib, showcasing his unique voice and ability to find profound meaning in the seemingly mundane. It’s a book that will make you see basketball—and perhaps your own hometown—in a whole new light.
As Abdurraqib writes near the book’s conclusion:
“I have lied to myself to keep loving a city, to keep myself fixed in the place I am because I’m afraid I know the truth about America, that nowhere is forgiving, and so the unforgiving familiar is better than anywhere else.”
It’s this kind of raw honesty, coupled with moments of soaring lyricism, that makes “There’s Always This Year” a must-read. Whether you’re a die-hard hoops fan or simply someone interested in the intersections of sports, culture, and identity, this book offers rich rewards.
In the end, Abdurraqib reminds us that while not everyone can be LeBron James, there’s value and beauty in every pickup game, every driveway hoop, every dream deferred but not abandoned. After all, there’s always this year.
