Date: Fri 22-Mar-1996

Publication: Bee

Author: KIMH

Illustration: I

Quick Words:

Column-Basketball-Purity

Full Text:

Searching For Basketball Purity - Column

You know, I'm really glad that Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf (that moron with the NBA's

Denver Nuggets who refused to stand at attention during the playing of the

national anthem because he said it conflicted with his religious beliefs) came

clean during these past couple of weeks. I really wasn't aware that there was

yet another disaffected minority group struggling to survive . . . that of the

Muslim professional basketball player (of which there are two or three) living

under the boot of oppression and the tyrannical presence of the United States

flag while earning better than $2 million a year.

Sarcasm aside, I guess Abdul-Rauf's contention about this oppression thing and

his moral conviction that he couldn't possibly stand during the Star Spangled

Banner simply paled in comparison with the thought of losing $33,000 per game.

I don't mind when a guy sticks with his beliefs. I could call him a hypocrite

(which he was) and be so angry my brain would leak out of my ears, but if he

really believed something and stood up (or sat down) for it, then I had to

give him credit for it.

But Abdul-Rauf showed himself to be the hypocrite that he is when he caved in

and, in the wake of losing $33,000 for one game, decided . . . hey, maybe I

can pray while I stand up for the anthem.

It's all about something in the NBA, it seems, and never just about playing

basketball. Every day we get a glimpse of the games and then we sense the

undercurrents that make it something other than a game we all play out on the

playground - Leigh Steinberg making assertions that Michael Jordan should get

$25 million a year . . . the NBA Players Association trying to overturn an

accord that would have made everyone rich . . . players demanding to be traded

. . . players clearly on the jagged edge of insanity making a mockery of the

competitive spirit.

I needed to find a place where basketball was about basketball. The high

school season was over. Kids were looking for their gloves and their bats and

their lacrosse nets and their track shoes. Hardly anybody was playing hoops

anymore. Hardly.

There were a lot of hoops going on this past weekend and one game was the

championship of the Newtown Youth Basketball Association's Intermediate Girls

division - a tussle between the Hornets and Suns that renewed acquaintances

between two teams that had just met a week before.

It was not basketball at its finest. How could it be? The girls were as fresh

and unmolded as any rookie in the NBA - without the inherent skills. These

girls were learning the sport of basketball, but were, at the same time,

infusing that process with a lot of energy, a lot of excitement, and more than

a few thrilling moments.

The Suns and the Hornets ran up and down the floor as if each player on the

team had an inexhaustible energy source at her disposal - a cold fusion core,

perhaps, which could have kept them going well into the afternoon and on into

the night. What made the game exciting, in its own way, were the baskets.

There were a lot of steals on both sides of the floor and some nifty passing,

but unlike other levels of basketball, the scoring itself wasn't something

these two teams took for granted.

In high school, someone flies down the court, spots up, and drains a long

jumper and then someone on the other team goes down to the other end of the

floor and does the same. Last Saturday, baskets were like touchdowns . . .

like home runs . . . like goals on a soccer field. Inside the paint, they were

great. Outside the paint, from the perimeter somewhere, they were stupendous.

It was an exciting game and somehow, writing that and thinking about it, it

seems a little strange considering I went home and just an hour or so later

watched Utah and Iowa and even later watched UConn and Eastern Michigan,

Mississippi State and Princeton in the NCAA Tournament.

Thing of it is, basketball is still basketball in college . . . for most of

the players. Still, there's an undercurrent of thought on who is going to be

the big pick in the NBA draft, who is going to declare early, who is going to

leave school for the big dollars of the pros. College basketball, in many

cases, acts just like a minor league for the NBA.

Hey, I still love the NBA . . . the Knicks, mostly, but any game on teevee.

And I love this March Madness stuff. Really.

Sometimes, though, the taint gets to be too much and I need something

cleansing - something pure. Basketball last Saturday at Newtown High School

was fun for the sake of fun (and there were no discernible atrocities

committed by parents) and, you know, even if you're not a parent, it wouldn't

be a bad idea to just go and see some kids have fun playing a game.

Really - it can't get better than that.