I must be a masochist of some kind, I really do not like sports, guys, but I keep coming back to Chris Crutcher like some sort of bug that wants to be fried on the electric lamp, bzzt bzzt, dead. It’s my library’s fault for taunting me with an entire shelf of Crutcher’s books, all in a row and easy to choose from. I had to resist taking them all and chose this one because it had a dysfunctional father/son dynamic and an anger management course. I realized as soon as I started this meant that there was a girl in this novel that gets molested. This means I have to read everything Crutcher has written to figure how how many books he has where girls get sexually abused. If it goes over three I’m going to be creeped out.

This story was okay. I am actually more interested in Lion, who was a supporting character in this book. I have discovered he’s in another book! I plan to get my paws on it soon. I always end up loving the characters in these novels and wanting everyone to get their own book, because these books are so short, I gobble them up in hours and sulk because I wanted more, even if more means more sports talk. WHAT IS WRONG WITH ME.

The dad was evil. Pure evil. I loved him and hated him and he was awesome. What a massive asshole! You end up feeling so sorry for him and you just want to give him a supportive cuddle. Then you want to slap yourself because wait! He’s a total asshole! The Japanese cowboy was over the top and oh god Crutcher wrote out the southern accent please kill me with something sharp why do authors DO THIS. It must be to vex me, because the entire world revolves around me and me not being annoyed that authors represent southern characters in novels like we forgot G was part of the alphabet. STOP IT, AUTHORS.

None!