Books

If football is not a religion in Texas, it is, at least, "a tonic to overcome all of life's troubles," writes first-time author and University of Texas graduate Adam Jones. As he sees it, "God created football as a grand gift for an imperfect world."

FILE 2006/Staff photo

Vince Young led the author's beloved team to the Promised Land.

But what would little Adam know about troubles, or imperfection, growing up in his privileged childhood circumstances? His educated, football-loving, church-going parents and grandparents enjoyed high status in the community. His mother was the arts museum curator, his father a doctor with a bedside manner so genteel that he wouldn't even boo at the games.

The grandfather, W. Mitchell "Bulldog" Jones, was the coach and later dean of West Texas State at Canyon. They named the stadium after him. He dispensed homiletic wisdom to Adam and his siblings. The women, formidable and nurturing, cheered and booed at the games, cooked, herded cows and protected Mexican children.

"God clearly lived in the Panhandle," we are given to understand.

God, by the way, is an important character here. He regularly talks with the adult Adam, trying usually to temper his Longhorns obsession without being dogmatic, so to speak.

But for the author, everything is football. He measures out his life, and his book, in significant Longhorns games, each a themed chapter. He either took notes at all of them, studied videos or has a supernatural memory. His encyclopedic recall of their crucial moments will be heavenly for other superfans to read but perhaps hellish for those not of "the faithful."

He is impressive doing his detailed football thing, as he is with his loving descriptions of West Texas. In fact, the land has more breath and blood and heart than people do. He tells us about his family and what they say and do, and how important they have been to him. We admire his devotion to them.

But we get the feeling that this same devotion hinders his willingness to bring them into complete focus. Except for grandma's cookery, they are memorably flawless. We are skeptical of so much clean laundry.

So that's why the most compelling character, much more intriguing than God or grandpa, is the specter of the author's first wife, this mystery woman, mother of his first child. Who is she? How and where and when did they meet? Who ended the four-year marriage and why? Was she not a Longhorns fan?

Other than this single elliptical incident, Adam's Eden is laid out as smoothly and regularly as a football field. The narrative rolls along like a touchdown drive in the author's dream that "my guys" will win another national championship in his lifetime. It's as if winning a championship is his birthright.

The dream provides another skillful literary mechanism: By way of introducing an impoverished 6-year-old Houston boy hit by a car and fighting for life, the author cleverly presages his Rose Bowl dream's inevitability.

The little boy's name: Vincent Young.

But there's one play in which the author may have stepped out of bounds, one for the literary referees to ponder. How are readers supposed to react to the author's conversations with God? It is generally accepted that religious beings are a matter of belief not fact. So, have fact-checkers authenticated God's existence and verified the conversations? Nonfiction writers have been penalized lately for making up characters and dialogue.

But no reader is likely to fault this author's football facts. And you don't have to be much of a fan to know about Vince Young and the dramatic 2006 Rose Bowl game. Some fans may believe that God came through for the Longhorns. But God voices a reasonable rejection of such notions. In fact, all the way through, he sounds like a psychiatrist.

NPR commentator Tom Dodge, www.tomdodge books.com, lives in Midlothian.

A Memoir of Faith, Family, and Football

Adam Jones

(Thomas Dunne Books, $24.95)

Adam Jones will appear at 7 p.m. Monday at Borders, Preston Road at Royal Lane, and 7 p.m. Tuesday at Barnes and Noble, 1612 S. University Drive, Fort Worth.

ARCHIVES: Search for more stories on this and other topics | Search Tips

SUBSCRIBE: Get The Dallas Morning News delivered to your home