Drew Buxton Recommends Julie Otskuka, Ashton Politanoff, Quan Barry, and More

Accomplishment in sports, unlike in most other areas of life, is concrete, definitive. There are winners and losers; there are rankings. This all-or-nothing dynamic lends itself to obsession. The narrator of my debut novel, Daytona Teddy Riggs, wants nothing more than to win the World’s Strongest Man competition. When he’s not training, he’s downing as many calories as possible and visualizing himself victorious. His obsession is intensified by his isolation: He’s the black sheep of his family, and his increasingly erratic behavior pushes away his few remaining friends. He listens to motivational self-help tapes on a loop, creating an echo chamber in his mind where everything is confirmation that he’s destined for glory.

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I’ve long been a fan of the obsessed-athlete novel. Stories have a built-in propulsion when the main character is chasing a tangible goal so doggedly. Everything that happens is defined by its relation to the goal. Every event brings the character closer to their goal or takes them further away, energizing them or creating turmoil. The story can work on two levels—as a straightforward plot, usually culminating in a big match or competition, and as a gradually unfolding character study. I find myself compelled by both. Slowly we learn what drives the athletes—the wounds, insecurities, and longings. Here are some great examples of obsession and sport converging.

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Gabe Habash, Stephen Florida

On page two of this wrestling novel, the narrator tells us, “My name is Stephen Florida, and I’m going to win the Division IV NCAA Championship in the 133 weight class.” This fixation drives the rest of the story. In a small North Dakota college town, there is little for Stephen to do but go on long runs and plot countermoves against his future opponents. With such intense focus, Stephen seems destined to reach his goal, but the self-imposed strain causes him to slowly unravel. There is a quietness to this book that I really admire. This approach requires total commitment and confidence. Enjoy this underappreciated gem—just beware the Frogman, who lurks in Stephen’s mind and on every page.

Julie Otsuka, The Swimmers

This is the story of a group of swimmers who find solace in their neighborhood pool. It is their escape from reality, but a mysterious crack in the bottom of the pool floor forces the pool to close. The second half of the novel focuses on Alice, an elderly woman who suffers from dementia. Without the pool to ground her, she begins to spiral. She is taken to a memory care unit and visited by her daughter, who watches her mental state deteriorate. The novel is an impressive highwire act of different perspectives.

John L. Parker, Jr., Once a Runner

Quenton Cassidy dreams of running a sub-four-minute mile. His grueling daily training regimen is shown in great detail. It’s fair to say this novel, for the most part, appeals just to dedicated runners. It is a love letter to running. I’m not a runner, but I appreciate the purity of it, and the lack of pretension. It doesn’t strive for anything deeper. For Parker, running is enough.

Emily Thomas Mani, The Church of Wrestling

His chance at glory now past, a father transfers wrestling dreams to his 11-year-old daughter, Jenny. Wrestling for them has become a welcome distraction from the fact that Jenny’s mother is dying of cancer. After she passes, Jenny and her father try to find a way to defeat death itself. This book is a great look at how obsession can serve as an escape from the complex reality of life.

Ashton Politanoff, Dad Had a Bad Day

In this sad-dad novel, tennis obsession is a symptom of Ned’s emotional decline. The narrator is a former D1 competitor entering middle age. Unemployed with a wife and son, feeling bored and emasculated, he sees a comeback as his way to regain a sense of self-worth. The mini-ecosystem of the tennis club is the perfect setting for Ned’s undoing as he gets drunk at the club bar, attempts to have an affair, and berates his fellow players. Told in compact passages and with a strong bent forward, there is no excess fat to the story. I read it in a single sitting.

Quan Barry, We Ride Upon Sticks

A girls’ high school field hockey team will resort to anything in order to win the state championship, including witchcraft. The novel uses sports to explore friendship and the expectations society places on young women. Highly recommend this one to anyone who gets a kick out of ’80s nostalgia.

Leonard Gardner, Fat City

In deprived postwar Northern California, two men—a young novice and a washed-up pro—see in the brutal sport of boxing an escape from poverty and perhaps a path toward meaning. It feels like a waste to continue describing the details of this one. Just read it. I was completely blown away by the terse, muscular prose, and even more so by Gardner’s profound understanding of human psychology. I had to pause at times because I related to the characters’ thinking in a way that made me uncomfortable. Gardner’s lone novel is a staggering achievement.

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Daytona Teddy Riggs by Drew Buxton is available from Hub City Press.