There's Always This Year

There's Always This Year explores basketball’s cultural significance through memoir, lyrical essays, and social commentary. Hanif Abdurraqib reflects on 1990s Ohio, legends like LeBron James, and the tension between success and unfulfilled potential. The book weaves personal stories about fatherhood, community, and identity with broader critiques of American expectations and resilience.

Fans of Abdurraqib’s previous award-winning works (A Little Devil in America, Go Ahead in the Rain) and readers interested in sports-as-metaphor will appreciate this book. It resonates with those exploring race, belonging, and the interplay between individual ambition and collective identity. Basketball enthusiasts and memoir lovers will find its blend of history and autobiography compelling.

Yes—critics praise its emotional depth, lyrical prose, and innovative structure. Described as “mesmerizing” and “a clarion call to reimagine culture,” it combines basketball history with intimate reflections on family and failure. Ideal for readers seeking nuanced narratives about race, aspiration, and the Midwest’s cultural legacy.

Key themes include:

• The fragility of success and societal expectations of Black excellence.
• Basketball as a lens for analyzing community, nostalgia, and resilience.
• Fatherhood, memory, and the complexities of home.
  Abdurraqib ties these ideas to broader conversations about American identity and belonging.

Basketball frames discussions of marginalization, perseverance, and collective joy. Abdurraqib likens the sport’s rhythm to personal growth—examining how players (and individuals) navigate “making it” in systems stacked against them. The court becomes a space to dissect race, economic struggle, and fleeting triumphs.

While direct quotes aren’t provided in sources, Abdurraqib’s standout lines include reflections like:

• “Here is where I would like to tell you about the form on my father’s jump shot” (highlighting absence and legacy).
• “What does it mean to ascend in a place that doubts your worth?” (tying athletic ambition to systemic barriers).

Like A Little Devil in America (Black performance) and Go Ahead in the Rain (music history), this book uses cultural touchstones to explore identity. However, it deepens his focus on geography—Ohio’s influence on his worldview—and blends memoir with sharper critiques of systemic inequality.

Abdurraqib interrogates how Black athletes and communities navigate exploitation and adoration. He contrasts LeBron James’ mythmaking with everyday Ohioans’ struggles, arguing that Black success is often conditional and tethered to others’ expectations.

The book alternates between essayistic critiques, poetic vignettes, and autobiographical segments. Chapters mirror basketball’s pacing—short bursts of insight, halftime-like reflections, and climactic analyses of legacy. This nonlinear approach mirrors the unpredictability of sports and life.

Hailed as “a triumph” (Steve James, Hoop Dreams director), it’s praised for its originality and emotional resonance. Critics highlight its seamless blend of personal narrative and cultural analysis, cementing Abdurraqib’s reputation as a leading voice in contemporary nonfiction.

Ohio—particularly 1990s Columbus—anchors the narrative. Abdurraqib portrays it as a microcosm of American contradictions: a place of communal pride and racialized limitations, where basketball courts become sites of hope and disillusionment.

Abdurraqib contrasts public figures like LeBron with personal stories about his father’s fleeting presence. He questions who society elevates as “role models” and how absence shapes aspirations, arguing that mentorship is often found in unexpected places.