Basketball fans of a certain age — 50, say — can be divided into two groups: those who saw Pete Maravich play in person and those who didn't.

Those in the latter group, sadly, were largely dependent on the written word or on word of mouth for accounts of "Pistol Pete's" unfathomable exploits; college basketball was a relative stranger to television in those pre-ESPN days, and the novelty of his pro allure wore off rather quickly as Maravich spent the majority of his NBA career consigned to backwater league outposts.

But those who saw him live, those who bore witness to the incredible passes, the impossible shots, the otherworldly magic he worked with a basketball, might liken it to a religious experience.

The Magic Johnson-Larry Bird rivalry is most often cited as the impetus for the transformation of basketball from sport to entertainment. Michael Jordan took it from there, a one-man globalization effort who became the first basketball player recognized as the world's most famous athlete.

But in "Pistol: The Life of Pete Maravich," author Mark Kriegel makes a convincing case that the free-form, imagination-driven game played today started with Pistol Pete.

Unearthing the bones of the Maravich legend was a labor of love for Kriegel, who first made a name for himself as a sports columnist with the New York Daily News and has distinguished himself as a biographer. "Namath," written in 2004, assigned a cultural/social context to the life and times of one of the most celebrated athletes of the 20th century while uncovering the human side of Broadway Joe.

The Maravich saga was less well-known, which heightened its appeal to Kriegel. He didn't get past the high school level as a ballplayer, but he has an abiding appreciation of the game befitting one who grew up immersed in the discerning culture of New York hoops, which was accepting of a guy capable of putting up 44 points a game in college, as Maravich did in three amazing seasons at Louisiana State University (1967-70).

"Before the three-point line," Kriegel notes.

Like "Namath," the Maravich biography is meticulously researched and rich in detail. Who knew that Mike Ditka played basketball for Pete's father, Petar "Press" Maravich, at Aliquippa High School in Pennsylvania?

It's a compelling read, with the careful character development and page-turning urgency of a good novel, but at the same time a sad one. Though Maravich fulfilled his and his father's shared goal of becoming a basketball revolutionary, the accomplishment came at great personal cost. Maravich was a tortured soul. He came from a family of them: obsessed father, troubled mother, wild-hare half brother. His widow, Jackie, is the book's hero, a rare source of stability from the time they met until the day he died of a rare genetic heart defect.

He was 40, and did he live a life.

In one of the book's most poignant scenes, Pete's sons Jaeson and Joshua are invited to the 1997 NBA All-Star game, where the 50 greatest players in NBA history are to be feted on the league's 50th anniversary. The Maravich boys are there representing their father, and any doubts about his rightful place among the top 50 are erased as Magic Johnson, Isiah Thomas, Charles Barkley and others seek out the boys and pay homage to Pistol Pete.

The great ones always know.