Breathe and Believe, by Arthur Wiggins, drops readers into the messy, money-soaked world of American Midwest University athletics, where one bad week blows up an entire department. Bruce McDermott, a marketing specialist on the rise, watches his mentor quit, his secret relationship implode, and his football program slide toward NCAA sanctions and budget disaster. Interim athletic director Tara Gantt battles power-hungry basketball coach Ron Hill and his boosters over gender equity, football vs. basketball priorities, and the push to build a new multi-purpose facility, while a tragic road accident involving the women’s tennis team shows the very real cost of all these decisions. By the time Bruce walks into a legislative hearing with a giant check and a campus-wide vision, the book has turned a spreadsheet crisis into a story about ambition, grief, and what it really takes to keep a university sports machine alive.

The storytelling has a slow-burning style that works overall. The early chapters around the motel incident, the surprise resignation, and then the van crash hit hard and fast, and I caught myself thinking, “OK, this is not just a sports novel, this is a whole train wreck of a weekend.” The author writes meetings, press conferences, and budget talks with the same seriousness as big games, and that gave the book a grounded, insider feel. There are passages packed with numbers, acronyms, and institutional history where the tension dips. The dialogue often carries the weight, with characters stating the stakes rather than letting subtext do more of the work. Still, when the story leans into crisis scenes or personal confrontations, the pacing snaps back, and the pages move quickly.

What really hooked me were the ideas underneath the plot. The book digs into Title IX, gender equity, and the brutal math of “too many sports, not enough money” in a way that feels honest. We see how a 53 percent female student body sits next to only 39 percent female scholarship athletes, and you can feel how wrong that is without the author giving a lecture about it. Tara Gantt’s arc, as a veteran woman administrator who built a separate women’s program only to see it merged, trimmed, and constantly second-guessed, gave the book heart.

Bruce’s role as a marketing guy caught between ideals and survival felt believable to me; he is selling walk-a-thons, naming rights, and spring game hype so the department can pay back a 1.3 million dollar overspend, and the whole thing feels both clever and a little desperate. The tennis team crash is handled with a blunt, unsentimental style that hit me in the gut; it underlines that all the talk about TV contracts and conference moves sits on top of actual young people in vans on bad roads.

I also liked how Wiggins treats politics and media as part of the same ecosystem. The scenes with the local newspaper scrambling for a “thumper” front-page story and sniffing around the athletic budget felt very true to life, and there is a sly humor in how leaks, half-truths, and spin drive the narrative around AMU more than any scoreboard does. The boosters, legislators, and campus leaders come off as flawed rather than cartoonish villains, which I appreciated. There were moments when I wished for more time inside the student-athletes’ heads and a bit less time inside meeting minutes. Even so, I came away with the strong sense that the author has lived in this world, and that authenticity carries the book.

I would recommend Breathe and Believe to readers who enjoy behind-the-scenes sports stories, campus politics, and workplace dramas where the real action happens in boardrooms, press boxes, and budget spreadsheets more than on the field. If you want a thoughtful, occasionally heavy, very human look at what modern college athletics does to the people inside it, you’ll enjoy this book. Arthur Wiggins has written a grounded, slow-burning sports novel for readers who love college athletics stories packed with messy politics, money trouble, and real emotional fallout.

Pages: 309 | ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0DFCHCWND