I love tennis. Watching it, not playing it. I grew up with the Connors-McEnroe rivalry in the early 1980s, or so I thought. Turns out that McEnroe was on his way up while Connors was at the top of his game and it was more a Connors-Borg rivalry in the 1970s. I loved hearing about the "early" days of competitive tennis and Jimmy Connors' role in bring tennis to the masses by exploding out of the stuffy confines of the country club sets. He loved being the bad boy of tennis and he admits to all his "assholery" (his word) with few regrets.
For the most part, Rich Orlow did a really great job reading this memoir. I have only two complaints: 1) he almost always pronounces "Wimbledon" as "Wimbleton," and 2) he pronounces "Vitas Gerulaitis" as "Vitas Jerulaitis." (Either he is wrong on that, or all the sportscasters and newscasters from his era are.) Other than that, his energy, tone, and inflections were spot on.
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