How otherworldly was Larry Bird during his memorable season for Indiana State in 1978-79? At one point he made an assist while sprawled on the floor: From his end of the court, he made a one-armed throw to a teammate, who streaked coast-to-coast for a quick bucket.

That season ended with an epic showdown in the NCAA championship game against Magic Johnson and Michigan State. Magic got the better of Bird in that game, but the contest had wider repercussions. Not only did it spark interest in the NCAA Tournament, but Bird and Magic would help revitalize the NBA, after Bird joined the Boston Celtics and Magic the Los Angeles Lakers. But none of this was preordained, especially Bird’s trajectory.

Bird emerges as the ultimate against-the-odds story in a new book – Heartland: A Forgotten Place, An Impossible Dream, and the Miracle of Larry Bird by Keith O’Brien. The author, who previously wrote a biography of the late, controversial Cincinnati Reds star Pete Rose, turns his lens to Bird and the many obstacles he faced.

“I was drawn to that origin story – his rise in rural Indiana in the 1970s and how it almost does not happen at all,” O’Brien says. “…The rise of Larry Bird is one of the most unlikely American sports stories of the past 50 years.”

Stretching nearly 400 pages, the book devotes much of that space to examining what stood in Bird’s path. O’Brien chronicles a troubled early family life in French Lick, Indiana, including the suicide of Bird’s father, a veteran of the second world war and Korea.

“A suicide is a trauma for a family, for a child, for a teenager,” O’Brien says. “We know that now in 2026 … In a lot of ways, Larry Bird really had to shoulder this tragedy and this grief alone.”

Bird was 18 when he lost his father in February 1975. The previous fall, he had gone to the University of Indiana to play for a coach with a growing reputation, Bobby Knight. But he left Bloomington without ever playing a game for the Hoosiers. Returning to French Lick, he played briefly for a vocational school, then for an industrial league, then got a job hauling garbage. And that’s where he was in April 1975 when a similarly down-on-his-luck assistant coach connected with him: Bill Hodges of Indiana State.

“Bill Hodges is an unsung hero in this story,” O’Brien says. “Without Bill Hodges, I’m not sure we would have ever known Larry Bird’s name at all.”

Hailing from another small town in Indiana – Zionsville – Hodges was on his third job in as many years. He had seen Bird play twice, liked what he saw, and drove to French Lick bent on recruiting him despite Bird’s resistance.

“Bill Hodges was a lot like Larry Bird,” O’Brien says. “He was stubborn, he was persistent … he knew what it felt like to be poor in Indiana. Those two men, Bill Hodges and Larry Bird, really connected on a personal level, which ultimately coaxed Bird … to reenroll in college and come to Indiana State.”

The book contrasts the small-town school in Terre Haute with its much larger counterpart in Bloomington. The schools’ basketball programs were headed in different directions too: The Indiana State Sycamores drew sparse crowds and risked dropping to Division II, while the Indiana Hoosiers would win the 1976 NCAA championship. Yet Bird benefited from his time in Terre Haute under head coach Bob King.

“For a kid like Larry Bird, it’s a place that felt more like home,” O’Brien says.

Meanwhile, King and his staff started assembling a strong team around Bird. Progress was not necessarily linear – there were back-to-back exits from the National Invitation Tournament, the second punctuated by Bird getting into it with a Rutgers fan. Bird was notably reticent around the media, including journalists who asked about Bird’s early, brief marriage from which he had a daughter.

Eventually, the national media was paying attention to his play on the court, with Sports Illustrated even putting him on the cover in November 1977 as “College Basketball’s Secret Weapon,” with two Indiana State cheerleaders urging the reader to keep quiet. By Bird’s senior year, the Sycamores had something special in terms of team chemistry.

“It’s the classic story,” O’Brien says. “Not just for sports, but life, business, anything. The guys in the [locker] room get along with each other. They’re friends. They’re not nearly as talented on paper as the year before. But it just works.”

It worked to the point where the Sycamores got key contributions from across the roster – including Bird’s roommate Bob Heaton, who made two memorable shots that season. And they also got great coaching from Hodges, who had to step in after King suffered a heart attack, and then was diagnosed with a brain aneurysm, before the season started.

As the Sycamores remained undefeated week after week, interest in Bird grew not only within the NCAA, but also in the NBA. O’Brien delves into the complex racial dimensions of what made Bird appealing to a league that was struggling to attract an audience.

“NBA executives, GMs, scouts, TV executives spoke about how important it was that Larry Bird was white,” O’Brien says. “It was an important aspect for the NBA, the business of the NBA at the time. In 1978-79, in the midst of Indiana State’s miracle season, Larry Bird’s miracle season, the NBA is teetering on the edge of obscurity. It draws abysmal TV ratings … In a lot of ways, in the minds of NBA executives at that time, Larry Bird was a quick fix, a solution.”

Bird, who by his senior year had neither played in the NCAA Tournament nor in a televised game, would get plenty of airtime during the Big Dance. After the Sycamores fended off Sidney Moncrief and Arkansas in the Final Four, they had a dream matchup with Magic and Michigan State in the final.

It was something of an anticlimax for Bird and Indiana State – he scored 19 points in the Sycamores’ 75-64 loss. Yet when the Sycamores returned to Terre Haute, they were greeted by a rousing rally from fans who had followed that memorable season, start to finish. And an NBA rivalry with Magic was in the wings.

“Bird and Magic are going to define the next decade in pro basketball,” O’Brien says. “In a lot of ways, they’re going to save pro basketball.”

Meanwhile, a CBS executive named Kevin O’Malley was impressed by the marquee matchup in the NCAA final and by that year’s tournament in general. As detailed in the book, he eventually conceived an idea for what has become a rite of spring: The NCAA Tournament selection show.

But as Bird finally made good on his potential in 1978-79, and paved the way for stardom in the NBA, there was one more moment that could have changed everything. It happened in a regular-season matchup against New Mexico State, in which Indiana State trailed by two with three seconds left. New Mexico State star Greg Webb stood at the line for a one-and-one. If he made the first free-throw, it would have ended the Indiana State win streak. Instead, he missed. The Sycamores’ Brad Miley grabbed the rebound and fed teammate Bob Heaton for an improbable halfcourt shot to tie the game. Indiana State won in overtime, a perfect season still within reach.

“I tracked down Greg Webb,” O’Brien says. “He did remember [that moment], did want to talk about it. Greg Webb told me the miss and the failure in 1979 was devastating to him.

“Looking back on it through the prism of time, he felt maybe it’s he, Greg Webb, who deserves credit for starting March Madness. If he makes the free throw, maybe Larry Bird does not get there at all.”