The Punch: The Fight That Changed Basketball Forever [Hardcover]

Now on to the book's strengths: for one thing, Feinstein described Tomjanovich's injuries and the scene at the Forum and the hospital with vivid detail. When I first read what he meant by "dislocated skull" (after having heard Feinstein discuss the book on the Jim Rome Show), I gasped rather loudly at the bookstore and I actually felt a bit nauseated. Feinstein also did a good job describing the remainder of that evening for the two principals, showing how Washington already felt horrible about what he had done and how Tomjanovich, long portrayed as the harmless, gentle victim, actually asked the doctor working on him to allow him to go back to the Forum to get back at Washington, after they had nearly gone at it near the Laker locker room. I also had never known that Tomjanovich HAD been in a fistfight in an NBA game, in the 1971-72 season (his second season) against an Atlanta Hawk player, nor had I known about his post-incident anxiety attacks and drinking problem for which he finally got help a few years ago. Meanwhile, it was compelling to see how Washington had to deal with being viewed as sinister (and this is where, in my opinion, we could have used some insight from Feinstein on how race entered into public perceptions of the two men) and had trouble keeping a long-term job of any kind because, inevitably, his employers did not want to have to deal with the trouble of associationg with such a controversial figure.

Despite its flaws, this is a compelling read and is evocative of the darkest moment in NBA history, how it affected two men and their families, friends, teammates, coaches, and their sport, and how time has eventually helped to heal the wounds suffered by both Kermit Washington and Rudy Tomjanovich and also helped them to have a better relationship with each other. Ultimately uplifting.

Feinstein begins the book with a description of the punch, an act so barbaric that it dislodged Tomjanovich's skull, causing spinal fluid to leak into his body. It took five surgeries to try to undo the damage from a single punch. In so doing, Feinstein introduces Washington as a mindless brute, ready to fight at any provocation. In this sense, the reader is pitted against Washington from the outset. No amount of "good guy" testimonials on Washington's behalf --- and there are many --- can shake the awful imagery. Moreover, Washington's bizarre behavior immediately after the punch --- he is remorseless and, incredibly, ready to go after Tomjanovich again, near the locker rooms --- doesn't help. It was not until Washington left the arena that he finally understood he had done something very wrong. But even then, he understood not because of his common sense and not because of what he saw on the court, described by one teammate as "just so much blood. I kept thinking, 'How can there be so much blood from one punch? Something is wrong here.'" What registered with Washington were the words of the parking lot attendant: "Kermit, you're in a lot of trouble. Big trouble."

Feinstein fails to pursue basic, important facts. For example, how did Washington's wife react to the punch? We don't know. Pre-punch, Pat Washington had grave concerns about her husband's notorious temper on the court. But Feinstein never explains her reaction to the punch, nor does he get any reaction from the Washington and Tomjanovich children. Washington's divorce is similarly unresolved. In a book that provides intricate detail on arcane, irrelevant NBA trades, salaries and management, the reader gets less than one page on the break up of a twenty-five-year marriage.

Compounding these problems is Feinstein's penchant for repetition, the withering repetition. A quote on page thirty-two re-emerges on page 171. A quote on page 154 reappears twenty-four pages later. Did you miss Brent Musburger's quote on page 21? No worries, it's there on page 194. Facts are recycled with great dexterity. On no fewer than four occasions, the reader is treated to the fact that the city of Houston is hot in the summer. Imagine that. Houston. Hot. Two of the four occasions are, naturally, the same quote.

Feinstein does a nice job describing the great friendship between Tomjanovich and his former teammate, Calvin Murphy. He skillfully reports on Tomjanovich's successful battle with alcoholism, offering a bare bones, unsentimental view of the ordeal. In fact, many biographical details are well researched and presented in a way that advances our understanding of the men, especially Washington, not as superstar athletes but as real people. Washington is a supremely hard working, thoughtful person. He achieved great things against long odds and, as a young person, looked to have a limitless future on and off the court. The punch changed things, and Feinstein provides sad details of a life gone off course, including an attempt to extort five million dollars from the NBA, and the taking of a polygraph test to prove he was not the instigator in the events immediately preceding the punch.

Feinstein reveals similarities between Tomjanovich and Washington that, perhaps, go beyond coincidence. Both men were raised in tough neighborhoods by emotionally distant parents. Both attended universities close to home, where they excelled in basketball and in academics. They have had close friendships with members of the opposite race throughout their entire lives. The same man drafted them into the NBA. Both are 6"8, and have sons named Trey. Although it may be a fanciful leap to look for cosmic meaning in an NBA fight, it is folly to dismiss Washington's belief that "Under different circumstances, I believe we would have been the best of friends. Everything I've seen or heard about (Tomjanovich) tells me that." Tomjanovich expresses similar feelings about Washington, indicating that in some sense they have been "married" ever since they were joined by the punch. And although they have not met or spoken at length since 1977, Tomjanovich characterizes Washington as his "brother."

Had Feinstein kept his gaze trained tightly on the major players --- and if his editor cut out the repetition and about fifty pages of irrelevant detail --- THE PUNCH would have made a bolder statement. As it is, however, the book fails to make good on its promise to fully explore "the fight that changed basketball forever."

--- Reviewed by Andrew Musicus