First, there was William Bowen’s and James Shulman’s book The Game of Life and the sequel, Reclaiming the Game, which Bowen co-wrote with Sarah Levin.

The books dominated the Ivy landscape over the past four years. Ivy presidents ran scared, trying to fix the perceived flaws that these works unearthed. The athletic rollback movement culminated in the 2003 cutbacks at the Council of Ivy Group Presidents’ spring meeting, which, among other things, cut the size of incoming football recruiting classes from 35 to 30, raised the Academic Index (AI) floor from 169 to 171 and cut the number of full-time and part-time football coaches.

But with the release of Chris Lincoln’s new book, Playing the Game, Bowen’s reign at the top of the Ivy presidents’ reading lists is effectively over.

In fact, this may have been one of Lincoln’s primary objectives for producing this work. He spends an entire chapter attacking the Game of Life premise that incoming student-athletes with low AIs are more likely to underachieve than their classmates. He points out that the AI has serious inherent flaws, as it limits its judgment of the competency of a student to SAT I and SAT II test scores as well as class rank or grade point average. Through several anecdotal examples—the primary form of evidence that Lincoln relies on in the work—he shows that AI is a poor indicator of one’s expected performance in college.

Lincoln is quick to point out that the Bowen who was the co-author of the Game of Life would disagree with that stance. The Bowen who was the co-author of an earlier work The Shape of the River, which dealt with minority admissions, would have praised Lincoln’s conclusion wholeheartedly. And Lincoln pounces on this apparent hypocrisy.

Lincoln wasn’t satisfied with ripping into the conclusions reached by Bowen and Shulman. He went further, questioning whether the impact that the Game of Life had on the Ivy presidents was based on the evidence presented in the work or whether it had something to do with Bowen’s position as the head of the Mellon Foundation—an organization that gives hundreds of millions of dollars in grants to Ivy institutions. Could Bowen’s influence over Ancient Eight schools have less to do with the content of his works and more to do with the power of his office? Maybe. But the mere existence of such ties is enough to cause the presidents’ reactions to the two works to be viewed in quite a different light.

Playing the Game isn’t without faults of its own, however. Despite the intriguing nature of the anecdotes Lincoln presents in the work, he tends to rely too heavily on such evidence in making his points. His reporting could also be described as unbalanced at points, as he conveys the views of just one or two coaches for chapters at a time. This is likely tied to the amount of access to the different coaches and administrators (which, when the book is viewed as a whole, was relatively expansive) and the compelling nature of the responses they provided.

Perhaps the most disappointing aspects of the book are its minor factual errors. Most are merely casual—such as the misspelling of Matt Birk’s last name as Burke or the listing of Dartmouth’s 2003 Ivy football record as 5-2 instead of the correct 2-5 mark. (Those who follow my column on a weekly basis may be wondering how I can reconcile pointing out someone else’s petty errors, while my column is often littered with them. Well, you’re just going to have to figure that one out for yourself).

None of Lincoln’s flaws in reporting affect his major points in any manner, nor would they be readily identifiable by members of his non-Ivy audience. They do remain quite distracting, however, to those with even a rough knowledge of the Ivy League.

Those criticisms notwithstanding, Playing the Game. casts a unique light on Ivy recruiting that will undoubtedly surprise and shock even those readers who felt that they had a solid grasp on the manner in which the “game” is conducted. The squeeze-play that prospective student-athletes face, the interaction between the admissions office and respective coaches and the acceleration of the commitment process are all presented in a clear, engaging manner that makes the book very difficult to put down.

While Lincoln’s primary objective is to use his reporting to present those issues discussed in the previous paragraph, he takes some time at the end of the work to reflect upon the changes that he believes will be necessary to sustain the Ivy League and ward off a seemingly inevitable choice between two competing forces—big-time Division I and Division III. In the end, Lincoln comes to the conclusion that what is needed most is honesty. Rather than hide behind the AI and secretive admissions process, the presidents need to engage in an open, transparent discussion that will allow the league to address the changes that will need to be made to sustain the league as it now stands and make athletics work for all schools in an equitable manner.

But, if history is any guide, with these presidents, such a simple solution will never be achieved.

—Staff writer Michael R. James can be reached at mrjames@fas.harvard.edu. His column will appear on a weekly basis.