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"The game was full of untold ecstasies. Little Pete had a big smile- though never when he played. His expression belied the joy he derived from performing, pleasing, mesmerizing. He was energized by the awe of an audience, whether it be men watching him dribble blindfolded or the kids in the drugstore gaping as he spun the ball on his fingertips. But the effect was multiplied in front of a proper crowd. He first felt it as a seventh grader, already playing for the junior varsity at Daniel. There were fewer than ninety people in the stands, but has was wired to them, each fan nourishing a strange, adrenalized sensation at his core. “Out in front of a crowd for the first time,” he would recall,” I just wanted to do everything and be everything…I wanted to put on a show.” Prodigies are peculiar, not just for their gifts, but for the prodigiousness of their practice regimens. Frail as he looked, Pete didn’t acknowledge the usual boundaries of fatigue, age, or nerve. Nor did his routines distinguish between the athletic and the aesthetic, between the sport and the show. He had already begun challenging his father’s players to games of horse for money. He would have to hoist the ball two-handed, off his hip. “He was like half our size, literally,” remembers George Krajack. “But he took some of our guys’ money.”" - Excerpt by Mark Kriegel in Pistol: The Life of Pete Maravich Other posts you might like:
"This is Your Sport" by Hakeem Olajuwon in Living the Dream "Lessons in the Driveway" by Magic Johnson in My Life "Success Came Easily" by Phil Jackson in Sacred Hoops
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