Out of print for more than 30 years, now available for the first time as an eBook, this is the controversial story of John Wooden's first 25 years and first 8 NCAA Championships as UCLA Head Basketball Coach. Notre Dame Coach Digger Phelps said, "I used this book as an inspiration for the biggest win of my career when we ended UCLA's all-time 88-game winning streak in 1974."

Compiled with more than 40 hours of interviews with Coach Wooden, learn about the man behind the coach. Click the Book to read the players telling their stories in their own words. This is the book that UCLA Athletic Director J.D. Morgan tried to ban.

Click the book to read the first chapter and for ordering information.

by Tony Medley

Chaos Theory (10/10): Ryan Reynolds gives a bravura performance as a control freak whose life is thrown into chaos when his wife sets his watch back by 10 minutes. At one point I laughed uncontrollably, but the film also engenders pathos.

Smart People (9/10): Dennis Quaid and Ellen Page are the smart people who have to deal with Thomas Haden Church and Sarah Jessica Parker and everyone else who don’t get it as fast or as succinctly as Dennis and Ellen do. This is an intuitive, sometimes humorous look at a serious issue, in the style of “Who’s Afraid of Virginia Woolf,” although not nearly as acerbic or cruel.

Street Kings (9/10): Screenwriter James Ellroy (“L.A. Confidential”) and director David Ayer (“Training Day”) clearly are not doing PR for the LAPD. They’ve combined on this profane, action-packed film, and placed Keanu Reeves in jeopardy for the entire 107 minutes, despite the efforts of his boss, Forest Whitaker, to protect him from Internal Affairs Captain Hugh Laurie. Brilliant cinematography (Gabriel Beristain) of Los Angeles and fast-paced editing (Jeffrey Ford) are aided by terrific performances, especially Naomie Harris and Cedric “The Entertainer” Kyles, in support of Reeves and Whitaker, who are award-quality. Not a pretty picture of the LAPD, but this kept me on the edge of my seat the entire time.

Priceless (9/10): This is a hilarious love story the likes of which you’ve probably never seen before, told in the midst of the world of luxury, high fashion, and privilege on the French Riviera. Audrey Tatou is the ambitious beauty using her seductiveness to find and get a rich old man to marry her while Gad Elmelah is the smitten bartender who falls for her and throws a monkey wrench into all her plans. In French.

Redbelt (7/10): Chiwetel Ejiiofor stands out as a saintly ju-jitsu instructor surrounded by devious, selfish people (including Tim Allen, in a good non-comedic performance) who don’t measure up to his standards. Unfortunately, this is another script by director-writer David Mamet loaded with profane dialogue that presents an interesting story with a counter-reality ending that is as disappointing as the way he ended 1997’s “The Spanish Prisoner.” Despite the tension in his story, just as UCLA basketball coach Ben Howland needs someone who knows something about offense, Mamet needs someone who knows how to script a believable dénouement.

Forgetting Sarah Marshall (6/10): For my money, any movie that starts out with full frontal male nudity (Jason Segel) and lingers on it has nowhere to go but up. Not funny enough to qualify as a comedy, it’s just a light romance. The only laughs are generated by the show-stealing performance of Russell Brand, the tattooed rocker who replaces the dumped Segel as the boyfriend of Kristen Bell (the titular Sarah). Even though the Hawaii locations are beautiful (as is actress Mila Kunis, who comforts Segel), without Brand the film would be a big dud.

Leatherheads (3/10): Watching Renée Zellweger look as if she just sucked on a lemon for the better part of two hours is just one of the many deficiencies in this yet another ineffectual effort by George Clooney to be Cary Grant. Miffed because he didn’t get a writer’s credit, Clooney downgraded his WGA membership. Why anyone would want credit for the wan dialogue masquerading as repartee is a telling statement about George’s taste and judgment. But, hey, women tell me he’s sexy.

Deal (3/10): I guess it is appropriate that this is an MGM picture, because it has the production values of an MGM B-movie from the 1940s. It starts off with loud, offputting music, music that continues for far too long. The story is derivative, the acting and direction clumsy. The first hour is almost interminable. It’s only saved from my lowest rating by the last 20 minutes. I was looking forward to a good movie about poker. I still am.

88 Minutes (3/10): This film looks like the cast, writer, and director were selected by passing out fliers on Hollywood Boulevard.

Read full reviews at www.tonymedley.com.