So he has so much content already to write a bio does he, asked my friend and that summed up the book for me. Touted as an honest and genuinely funny autobiography Brett Lee's book, as do most biographies, does him more disservice than good. One remembers him as a smiling, seemingly good natured and competitive cricketer. What one finds is a fast bowler who somehow feels its ok to knock people out and break their bones and see blood, who somehow believes he is always right and the other is wrong, who is a very money minded businessman and who had had reasonable success as a cricketer. He sickeningly defends the Aussie behavior and cannot for the life of him understand what the spirit of cricket is.
The book is really nothing to write home about. Apart from much of the stuff we already know about or don't care about, Lee's more interesting moments come when he is playing music or is meeting the musicians (Mick Jagger, Elton John, Kylie Minogue to start with). His injuries, the way he plays on despite injuries and his batting that won (or nearly won) several games. His rebellious streak is evident right through. One wonders at the firecrackers incidents and the running off in the streets for a jog incidents. The charity show ball with the cancer stricken Sarah Genius, the fan letter about the girl who wanted his poster are fine incidents. Singing with Asha Bhosle, acting in a Bollywood film, losing money to a real estate cheat in Bangalore, being linked up with Priety Zinta (her advise to Moody that "I think we should send a good batsman to get the runs" - that was surely hilarious).
Overall one wonders what this is all about. It's a game. You played it. Not many will remember you after a few years. Why this hurry to write bios and make biopics I still don't get it. Again one gets the feeling that maybe he should have waited or even better not written it at all so we can retain the illusion of what we thought Brett Lee was. There should be a ministry that approves biographies.
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| Random House India, 436 p |
The book is really nothing to write home about. Apart from much of the stuff we already know about or don't care about, Lee's more interesting moments come when he is playing music or is meeting the musicians (Mick Jagger, Elton John, Kylie Minogue to start with). His injuries, the way he plays on despite injuries and his batting that won (or nearly won) several games. His rebellious streak is evident right through. One wonders at the firecrackers incidents and the running off in the streets for a jog incidents. The charity show ball with the cancer stricken Sarah Genius, the fan letter about the girl who wanted his poster are fine incidents. Singing with Asha Bhosle, acting in a Bollywood film, losing money to a real estate cheat in Bangalore, being linked up with Priety Zinta (her advise to Moody that "I think we should send a good batsman to get the runs" - that was surely hilarious).
Overall one wonders what this is all about. It's a game. You played it. Not many will remember you after a few years. Why this hurry to write bios and make biopics I still don't get it. Again one gets the feeling that maybe he should have waited or even better not written it at all so we can retain the illusion of what we thought Brett Lee was. There should be a ministry that approves biographies.
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