The Boy from Boomerang Crescent
Author: Eddie Betts
Publisher: Simon and Schuster Australia
Pages: 304
Format: Kindle
Rating: 5 stars
As you are probably are all aware of by know, I am very fussy when it comes to my reading so anytime there’s a new auto biography out that interests me, I have high standards for both the content itself and how it’s written. On the other hand there’s a few people that I know will produce a ripper of a yarn and Eddie Betts was/is one of them- as soon as I saw his book had dropped, I instantly brought it and was waiting for the right time to read it.
The right time turned out to be the Sunday just gone and it went the way I thought it would; i read it in two sessions in the arvo/evening only pausing for the evening meal.
The question that has to be poised is how do I start reviewing this?
I guess the first/best way is from the beginning- it’s hard to describe the feeling, but settling down to read it was a lot like a soft blanket coming to rest over my shoulders; Betts has always come across as a genuine bloke who likes a yarn and that is essentially what this memoir is.
This is a yarn where you feel Eddie is speaking to you one one one- from the beginning of hearing about his families heritage, he uses the language of his people in lieu of some English words- for example if the sentence is “we washed our bums”, the word bum would be one from his language. It comes across as a man proud of his heritage which he rightly admits to.
What is unusual about this memoir- and I use the term unusual loosely- is that in terms of timeline structure, there are moments you will get occasional whiplash Only minor whiplash mind you as this is a fairly traditionally structured memoir, but there are moments when he’s discussing his AFL playing career where he will skip forward to another point in time. This isn’t bad because when you are reading it, it gives you an overall picture of Betts as a person- he brings together the impact of what he was talking about with the benefit of hindsight and time.
To me, this memoir reminds of an oral history- and that is a great thing. Instead of it being cut and dry, it’s a yarn from one person to another and its easily accessible to most people with a grasp of the English language.
I have left this next point to the last in my review because while it as been covered in the media, I don’t want it to distract with how much of a bloody ripper this memoir is and that is the infamous Adelaide Crows pre-season camp. I’m sure we’ve all heard about it and yes it’s covered in some detail by Betts. All I will say is that when you read about it, your jaws will drop with how truly horrific it is.
Enjoy the read!