Basketball is the most counted game going, and Shea Serrano's argument in Expensive Basketball is that the counting misses the best of it. Some moments, he says, are worth more than their numbers, and the book sets out to price them by feeling. It's an essay collection about the players, games and plays that stick in a fan's head long after the stat line has been forgotten, with illustrations by Ian Klarer breaking up the pages. As basketball books go, it has a sharper premise than most sports essay collections.
The evidence for that argument is memory, and Serrano deploys it well. The chapters on Kobe Bryant's final 196 seconds as a player, the Sue Bird backpedal, Tim Duncan's menace and the Larry Bird memory carousel show the method. He picks the moment, replays it in loving detail, and then explains why it costs so much. The ranking-as-expensive framework could have been a gimmick, but it keeps giving him a reason to argue, and the arguments sound like the ones you've had with friends about who mattered and why. The strongest chapters are the ones built around a single, specific scene, where the detail does the persuading.
The voice does most of the work, and it won't land for everyone. Serrano writes the way a very funny friend talks during a game: fast, loud, full of pop culture asides, with capital letters and underlined emphasis when he really means it. Most readers find that infectious, and the praise for the laughs is consistent. A stubborn minority finds the same style juvenile, and the objection is fair enough. The sentences are often short and the winks frequent. He is also fond of lists, and a few essays feel like another pass over ground already covered. The Michael Jordan chapter, in particular, let down readers who expected it to be a high point.
What holds the book together is how much it knows. Serrano goes deep on stats and context without turning into a lecture, and the nostalgia is generous. Readers who grew up on Iverson, McGrady and Vince Carter will find their era well served, and even a reader who winced at the style came away with more respect for Duncan and Carter. The WNBA chapters matter too. The Sue Bird material in particular sends readers to YouTube to watch the game, which may be the most honest measure of what a book like this can do. It also works for people who don't follow basketball obsessively, since the pop culture frame gives them somewhere to stand.
Why you should read
- Fans of Shea Serrano's earlier books
- NBA and WNBA fans who love debating moments
- Readers who grew up on early 2000s hoops
- Pop culture lovers curious about basketball
What to expect
- Short, jokey essays best read a few at a time
- Loud, conversational voice with caps and asides
- Ranked, list-driven arguments about iconic moments
- Original illustrations throughout
The pace suits the form. These are short essays, and they go down fast, but a few at a time is the better way to read them, because the energy stays high and the facts have room to settle. You can read it as a cold start with Serrano, since nothing here depends on his earlier books, The Rap Year Book and Basketball (and Other Things). What it asks is that you care a little about how a moment felt, and it gives that feeling a price tag and a case worth arguing over.