By Scott Brown
The extreme own trip of a guy who, opposed to all odds, rose to turn into certainly one of America’s such a lot brilliant and promising new political figures Scott Brown's maximum win didn't ensue on a chilly January election evening in 2010 whilst he got here from in the back of to catch the U.S. Senate seat held via Ted Kennedy for almost fifty years. it all started while he survived a savage beating on the drunken, dirty-fingernail palms of a stepfather whilst he was once slightly six years outdated, whereas attempting to defend his mom. during this gripping memoir of resilience and redemption, Brown tells the tale of his tricky, frequently nomadic early life, shunted from condominium to condo, and city to city, seventeen occasions over his first eighteen years. He someway thrived regardless of a mostly absent father, who married 4 separate instances. So did his mom, in relationships usually stained with alcohol, anger, or even violence. for almost twenty years' growing to be up, Brown continued innumerable hardships and demanding situations, even stealing nutrition to devour. He was once periodically despatched off to dwell with family members, his possessions wrapped in a couple of outdated blankets. stored by means of basketball, he was once the boy who shoveled snow from the general public courts to shoot hoops by myself within the frozen chilly. With clear-eyed conviction and unflinching can-dor, Brown tells the tale of his personal bad-boy days, of the coaches who mentored him, and of ways he came upon a manner out of familial chaos in the course of the graceful of a ball within the web, successful a beginning slot at the Tufts varsity basketball crew as a freshman participant and turning into the tenth-highest scorer to graduate within the school's historical past. His upward thrust from there has been much more unbelievable: a first-year legislations scholar and member of the Massachusetts nationwide defend, he was once picked as Cosmopolitan magazine's "America's Sexiest guy" and used to be vaulted into the glamorous global of latest York modeling on the peak of the Eighties. however the guy who was ushered into the backrooms of Studio fifty four again to Massachusetts to proceed together with his army and criminal education, calm down, bring up a relatives, and shortly came across an not likely direction that may lead him to nationwide political stardom. right here, too, are the secrets and techniques from the exceptional Senate race that captured the country's mind's eye and the way Scott Brown gained his notable victory. Poignant, heartfelt, funny, and profound, this is often the tale of 1 man's dream and his decision to struggle for a greater destiny.
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Extra info for Against All Odds: My Life of Hardship, Fast Breaks, and Second Chances
Not long after that, we moved east to Revere, the blue-collar town that bordered the ocean and the place where Dan was from. In Revere, we lived far away from the water, in a split-level home that had been broken up into two dwellings. Our apartment was on the bottom floor, with a basement and a garage underneath; the owners lived above us on the second floor. There was a public beach where I could go, if my mother took me, to dig with my pail in the sand; I still recall the special excursion to eat dinner at Kelly’s Roast Beef.
I would put toys in its path, let it chase string, watch it as it methodically washed its face or curled up in a tiny ball, its pink nose twitching ever so slightly as it slept. Cats were easy. They were allowed in rental places; they did not need to be walked; they ate very little. They were compact. But my kitten was not compact enough for Dan Sullivan. One evening when he was spread across the couch with his can of beer, the kitten hopped up, and Dan smacked him with his burly arm. He wasn’t sharing his sofa.
No one would buy every last hamburger package. I was saving it from the Dumpster. And I was starving. Most times, I did not have to suck in my belly to feel each individual rib. After the meat counter, I would push through the aisles, maybe snag some milk, which I could down by the gallon, and then head past the cereal boxes and white rice to the registers. I always bought some of the cheaper items, but first, I had learned to hang back for a minute and analyze the checkout clerks. I never went to the middle-aged ones; I always chose the line with the teenage kids working after school, kids whom I sometimes knew, who sullenly punched the numbers on the register, who would never look at my now-bulky overalls or gym bag.