Dr. J: An Autiobiography
Karl Taro Greenfeld, Julius Erving
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Just released today. Enjoy, you sports fanatics!
With startling honesty and an unmistakable voice, Dr. J is a historic self-portrait of an American legend, Julius "The Doctor" Erving.
With his flights of improvisation around the basket and his towering afro, Julius Erving became one of the most charismatic (and revolutionary) players basketball has ever known. But while the public has long revered this cultural icon, few have ever known of the double life of Julius Erving. Dr. J traces the inner lives of the nearly perfect player and the imperfect man--and how he has come to terms with both.
the court running instead of here, with my leg in a cast and the doctors telling me they don’t know if I will ever be able to run again. “The fastest boy,” I tell the doctor when he checks on my knee. “Only my sister was faster and I was almost catching her.” He doesn’t respond. “Get some rest, and then when the cast comes off, we’ll see if you can walk.” Walk? No. I’m going to run. “Oh, June,” Mom says, hugging me to her when we are back home. “I know you wanna run—” “Jump!” “—jump, but
extended all my life, on the court or off, communicates that we are soft. He says we should leave them to die. Instead, we’re the ones who look to be heading for another playoff grave. For the second year in a row we have gone up 3–1, only to squander the lead and stand on the brink of losing the series. We’re heading back to Boston for game 7, and, judging by our awful rebounding and terrible shooting in the last two defeats, there doesn’t seem to be much hope for us to get past the bruising
are those who I see more as objects, as bad girls. I know that’s simplistic and even offensive to many women, and that among the so-called good girls there are plenty of bad people and vice versa, but I am mired in that kind of patriarchal thinking on the subject and it will take years for me to break out of it. My struggle to respect women and to see them all as God’s creatures is one of the ways I’ve had to rise above my own circumstances and perhaps the cultural norms of when and where I was
Cadillac. I bend over and look in and there’s three of them, two of them sisters. “This is Cynthia,” Billy says. “This here is Cynthia’s sister Camille. And that’s Turquoise.” I’m not too impressed with the sisters. But I am definitely attracted to the other one, Turquoise. I lean back down. “How you like the game?” Turquoise smiles. My blood jumps. “Congratulations. You won.” “Yes I have.” I smile. It turns out these girls are up here from North Carolina, visiting some friends at Howard
conform my game to whatever system the coach has installed. My first year with the 76ers, I go from winning scoring titles and averaging 22 shots a night to scoring 21.6 points a night and shooting about 16 times a game. My field goal percentage actually goes down in Gene’s offense, but that’s because with George, Caldwell, and Dawkins up front, he has me playing farther from the basket. For the first time in my career, I don’t average double figures in rebounds. But Gene does everything by the