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courtesy Dutton Books |
This is the first book to weigh in
on the surge in popularity of women's college
basketball, arguably America's fastest-growing sport.
Lauren Kessler's 303-page account of a season in the life
of the Oregon women's basketball team was not inspired by a
passion for the sport. Like many women who grew up in
pre-Title IX America, she knew few girls who were serious
about sports and even today remains curious about how women
reconcile femininity with athleticism. But after watching
her first women's game, Kessler, who
runs the graduate program in creative nonfiction at Oregon, became hooked. "These
women I was watching,'' she writes, "these
hard-muscled, hard-charging women on the court, they were
challenging what it meant to be female. I had to know more
about them."
As she finds out more about them, so does the reader.
Kessler, who was granted full access to the Ducks' program
during the 1994-95 season, weaves lively, satisfying
profiles of almost every member of the team--right down to
the bench warmers--into her narrative. Most compelling is
her portrait of coach Jody Runge, who, less than a year
after reviving the flat-lining Oregon program, becomes
involved in a nasty seasonlong contretemps with the school
over its noncompliance with Title IX. But while Kessler
admires Runge's resolve and coaching acumen, she steers
clear of the role of cheerleader. Indeed, she portrays
Runge as a sometimes aloof, quick-tempered individual whose
anger at perceived slights of her program too often seemed
to deaden her and her players' joy for the game. Runge, who
apparently anticipated a more hagiographic look at her
program, has accused the author of excessive negativity.
Some Ducks players have dismissed the book as
"tabloid'' material. Neither Runge nor her players,
though, have disputed the book's accuracy.
Kessler would have been better served by avoiding the
pedestrian game accounts that sometimes slow the narrative.
And while she writes about the players' disgust with their
second-class status in the Oregon athletic department, she
never explores their thoughts about their coach's battles
over the same subject. Nonetheless, Full Court Press is an
important book, as is the period it chronicles. During the
1994-95 season, women's basketball came in from the margin:
Rebecca Lobo led Connecticut to the NCAA championship and
appeared on Letterman, Sheryl Swoopes had a shoe named for
her, and once-indifferent marketing types started laying
the foundation for not one, but two women's professional
leagues. But these developments are of secondary importance
to Kessler. What interests her most is reminding the reader
of the quotidian problems that still lie beneath the game's
shiny new veneer.
--Christian Stone
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