You remember Lance Rentzel, the Dallas Cowboys' end who made headlines by catching touchdown passes, marrying a movie actress and pleading guilty to exposing himself to a ten year-old girl. Despite its maudlin title and turgid epilogue by a Kipling-quoting psychiatrist, this autobiography proves a mordant, occasionally slick saga of Golden Boy gone wrong and then grown up and not the self-justifying confession you might have expected. Rentzel was a rich kid, tough jock, cool stud -- in short, Superboy always after the knockout girl, the knockout play, the big score. But defeat was something he never learned to handle. So when things got rough for him with the Vikings (an injured ankle, the coach's displeasure, a breakup with his girl) and again with the Cowboys (a losing season, a business failure, difficulty with his wife) his response was a puerile gesture to prove that he was still all there, a winner after all. The talkshowy anecdotes and facile flashback structure are too calculated to make this a completely sympathetic book, but these same devices create a distance between reader and writer preventing embarrassment for all concerned. Rentzel manages to transform sniggers into encouragement and contempt into understanding, at the same time presenting a candid shot of the athlete as Peter Pan.