Grisham's stories -- even the short, anomalous ones like his last small book, Skipping Christmas -- generally have more storytelling force than Bleachers does. His purpose this time seems more reflective than showy, and his love for this sports-related subject matter is palpably real. And so, in a book suffused with bittersweet nostalgia, Grisham has Neely look back on the days when Rake was the center of his universe. Long before there was a name for it, Rake knew how to dole out tough love.
As the book exposes the myths and exaggerations that grew up around Messina's championship times, and around Neely himself, it builds up to a remarkable reunion sequence. There, in the bleachers of the title, is a collection of former athletes, all ready to listen to a re-creation of a pivotal 1987 game. To Grisham's credit he makes this football game so real that the reader can almost see and hear it.
Bleachers has a hidden revelation about Rake to deliver, but it concentrates mostly on a eulogy for him. "Once you've played for Eddie Rake, you carry him with you forever," Neely finally acknowledges. "You hear his voice, you see his face, you long for his smile of approval, you remember his tongue-lashings." The coach is dead by this point, but in a book like this or Albom's there is always room for a message from beyond the grave.
"I've loved five people in my life," Neely finally says, as he counts Rake among them. Five people -- again? Why five? Whatever the answer, Grisham and Albom have made five a very popular number.



