There’s Always This Year

There’s Always This Year by Hanif Abdurraqib (2024) Book is subtitled: On Basketball and Ascension. A great book in a lot of ways—first of all, inspiring, to me, from a writer/writing perspective, as what is possible to do with the written word. As with the best writing it feels like direct communication from brain to brain. (Or heart to heart, or hand to hand.) It’s particularly exciting to me because it’s boundary-less—memoir, and essay, and poetry—you could just call it a book if you wanted—can we do without the categories? It’s personal, very specific, and revealing, but also there’s something universal about it. A meditation on basketball (with LeBron James as the center) is the framework, and that’s seen through Hanif Abdurraqib’s relationship with the game as a player, a fan, and Ohioan. But ultimately, it’s about the author’s growing up, his love for his community, but also hardships and tragedy, and his grief and anger from violence. Specifically, police killing Black people in his community, and the country, and the ongoing racism in U.S. cities, including, his home, Columbus. Along with the tragedy and anger, this book deals with, there is also a joyous and even spiritual outlook that feels necessary for survival. For the reader, it’s all equally as powerful. For me, a specific reader, there is the humor and oddness that I relate to, as well. I had never heard of Hanif Abdurraqib, though he’s got a half dozen or so previous books. I heard him on a podcast (Otherppl)—got my interest—first of all in ways I do relate and don’t relate. I used to be a huge basketball fan—but grew away from it. (Probably more to do with TV than basketball.) And I’m from Ohio (I’ve lived in both Columbus and Cleveland) but moved away, so I’m interested to hear about a writer who stayed/is back in his hometown. And other things got to me, as the book went along, like him talking about having dreams about his mother, who is deceased—and that was right after I’d been having dreams about my mom (died in 2008), which were freaking me out. There is lot to this book, and I mean a lot—and I’d like to recommend it to everyone I know (even those who don’t know a basketball from a pumpkin). Even those who don’t care about the formally inventive writing that is this book—though I think anyone would appreciate the musicality of his writing. But first of all, he’s got a voice that you care about, and want to listen to.

6.30.24