Book Notes: The Blind Side
I'm going to have a lot of negative comments to make about a book I liked a lot, and that has been praised universally, as far as I can tell. On the bright side, the book is engaging, well-written, and thought-provoking. What more could you want from a book? Here's what:
1. The thesis is straightforward. Lawrence Taylor and other big, fast blitzing linebackers who came to the NFL in the mid-1980's became disruptive to the passing game. At the same time, various rules changes involving the coverage of wide receivers put a premium on successful passing attacks. The combination of fast linebackers trying to disrupt the increasingly important passing game led to the need for specially quick offensive linemen to play left tackle (on the right-hand quarterback's "blind side") to protect the quarterback. And that's it. Nice angle, enough for the typical Sports Illustrated feature piece that goes toward the back of the magazine, but no more. So how does Lewis make a book out of this small story? And what's wrong with making a small story into a big book?
1. The book spends a lot of time in breathless praise of Lawrence Taylor. Praise is fine, but continual glowing tributes get tiresome. They also seem overstated. The NFL has always had big and fast athletes; in the past, a player of Taylor's size and speed would play defensive end. In the 3-4 defense in which Taylor played, the linebacker is essentially substituted for the defensive end. I know Taylor was an exceptional athlete and would have excelled in any era, but the fact that he played linebacker instead of end should not matter much: it's somewhat arbitrary where he plays and how his position is labelled, contingent on the coach's preference.
[2. On the same point, I totally don't understand why, in baseball, when discussing all-time greats, commentators will typically assess the player's offensive production in terms of his defensive position. Ryne Sandberg was a great-hitting second baseman, they'll say, comparing his numbers to other second basemen. Why? Sandberg could have played third or first or left-field just as ably, and indeed might have been assigned there had his team needed him there (see Alex Rodriguez playing third or Nomar at first). Would Sandberg be less of a hitter had he spent his career at third base? Is he more of a hitter because he played second? Why should his defensive position matter when assessing his offensive numbers? Sure, some coaches like small, quick players in the middle infield; but let's not forget that lumbering Cal Ripken spent over a decade playing shortstop.]
3. The bulk of the book involves the upbringing and eventual high school stardom of one Michael Oher, a very large young man with very quick feet: in short, a prototype for the rare athlete that fits the NFL's current model for left tackles. And it's quite a story, how a young boy from an unimaginably destitute and (virtually) parentless childhood is more or less adopted by a wealthy nuclear family, sent off to private school and propelled on his way to college stardom and presumably NFL riches. The problem is that the story about Oher's childhood and recruitment does not appear to tie into the NFL's stipulations for left tackles; an athlete of Oher's size and speed would have been desired by college football recruiters in any era. So the Oher story doesn't really fit the rest of the book. But it is a compelling story, Oher presumably will play left tackle one day in the NFL (although who knows? What if Belichick puts him on the right side?), and it does fill the book out.
4. But by forcing the Oher story into the NFL-rules-changes-Lawrence-Taylor-blind-side story, I think Lewis misses the real story about Michael Oher. What's interesting about Oher is not that one day he may play professional left tackle; what's interesting is the extent to which the people and institutions that surround this young athlete will go to make sure that his NFL career happens. It's a joke, really, and one that Lewis reports largely without comment. Oher may be a gifted football player, but by every measure he is singularly unqualified for the academic hurdles an NFL career implicitly imposes. It's not entirely the kid's fault (although part of it is), but this young man pretty much evades any semblance of an education right up to high school. Yet today he's enrolled in a four-year college program; how did this happen?
5. For all intents and purposes, to play in the NFL one has to go to college. This is a mistake, one that no other sport imposes. God doesn't give out both brains and brawn to everybody. Some people aren't meant to do time in college. Making people like Oher go to school corrodes institutions, to wit:
6. Oher gets through high school with what can only be described as intense, continual and personal tutoring, special attention, begging, pleading, etc. One has to read between the lines (Lewis didn't) and wonder just how much his tutor, for instance, helped Michael learn, or learned for him, if you catch my drift. By all appearances, Michael does not seem capable of performing well academically. What was the big rush? Why not take this uneducated kid and start him over? Not much draft interest in a thirty year-old player, that's why. Oher had to get to college "on time" to maximize his professional riches.
7. Oher's grade point average, in combination with his board scores, were well below the NCAA minimum for student-athletes. So how does Michael get his grades up? How does he change F's and D's (in completed courses) to A's? Don't ask Michael: he gets A's in subjects that he can't even name. He made those F's into A's by completing (with his tutor's help) some on-line courses that Brigham Young University offers (according to the book). These courses lasted all of one single week each! Yet they can change, in the eyes of the NCAA, semesters of F's into A's. BYU, a reputable institution, should be ashamed of itself, as should the NCAA. I'll refrain from putting any blame on Sean and Leigh Anne Tuohy (Michael's adopted parents), and Michael Oher himself, only because the young man appears singularly well-suited for pro ball and it's not their fault the path to the NFL goes through college. But still, I hope no one was proud of himself for changing those earned grades.
8. I could go on; read the book and you'll see. The real story of "The Blind Side" is the Blind Eye we turn toward the means by which we "educate" these young athletes. As good as the book is, I wish Lewis had seen the field a bit better.

