The first explosion of Greek basketball found Nikos Papadogiannis stationed in the back, but with a slingshot in hand. Still a young lad, he witnessed the triumph of 1987, lost somewhere between the stands of SEF and the offices of Apogevmatini, which entrusted him with his first typewriter. He excelled, however, in the celebrations at the fountain in Omonia.

In the three and almost a half decades that followed, Nikos... saw it all. Olympics, Final Fours, World Cups, Eurobasket, wonders, miracles, and injuries. In the 29+2 chapters of the book you hold in your hands, the author takes you on a tour of the unforgettable matches of his life, as he experienced them up close, breathless.

His voice has grown hoarse from the descriptions, his hands have blistered from writing, his feet have tired from the relentless chase for news, his temples have grayed from years of service, but his soul still leaps whenever he hears the sound of the orange ball.

Nikos is usually absent, but -as the old journalistic cliché goes- he has returned and is writing. If you are not particularly interested in basketball, all the better. The book is not aimed at the die-hard court-goer but at the occasional viewer, yet a loyal reader and traveler.

Sports is not about winning, but about the journey. And Nikos never tires of the journey.