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Ballin' in the 718
May 17, 2004 The USBL. Who knew? But hey, they're pros. You might even remember some of them -- Anthony Glover (St. John's circa '00), anyone? And what the USBL may lack in flair, they thankfully lack in pretense as well. They know their role, so to speak (If the CBA is the red-headed stepchild of the NBA, then the USBL is the kid who gives its lunch money and seat on the bus to the CBA). You really can't get lower in the ranks of pro ball than the USBL, but then you really can't sit courtside (well, not really 'courtside' per se -- the court is a good seven feet lower than the first row of seats) or anywhere, for that matter, for $8 at a NBA game. And to be fair, the USBL claims to have put 137 players in the NBA since 1985; so there are potential pros playing. I'm not sure what was a bigger surprise: that they've put that many players in the NBA or that they've been around since 1985. The Brooklyn Kings (doing business since '99) hold court in the LIU Brooklyn campus gym -- The Arnold and Marie Schwartz Center. It's predictably small -- supposedly the second-smallest NCAA gym -- but unpredictably, it has character; not just a glorified high school gym with retractable-row seating. The gym is actually not a gym at all, but rather a converted theater - the old Brooklyn Paramount Theater. Where the stage used to be is a small section of seating reserved for players' families and team officials. The court is actually raised up above where the orchestra seating used to be. The crowd seating was what used to be the first tier of the theater, hence the seven foot drop from the 'courtside' seats to the hardwood. The Schwartz Center alone, with its ornate ceiling, three-story wall mirrors and original pipe organ is worth the trip to see the Kings. While the conversion makes for one of the most interesting sporting venues anywhere, it also means there are some quirks. The pillars holding up the seating boxes that used line the walls of the theater are mere feet from the backboard. Granted the pillars are padded, but no doubt that one hard foul has met one even-harder pillar. The buzzer seems to be calibrated for the Staten Island Ferry. Other oddities include the ticket lady who can't break a $20 and no shortage of humidity. You call it unprofessional. In Brooklyn, they call it charm. What it lacks in amenities though, the gym more than makes up for in authentic fan atmosphere. There's no point in trying to paint a picture of approximately 2,000 local, rabid fans going nuts for their Kings. They weren't. But it's also refreshing to see the crowd was there just to see some basketball. No idiotic "dance team" working a tired C&C Music Factory remix. No annoying mascot firing hideous t-shirts out of a compressed-air gun into the crowd. And mercilessly, only one rendition of Gary Glitter's arena anthem: Rock'n'Roll (Part II). Going easy on the Glitter was worth the $8 ticket alone. The highlight of the obvious fan apathy towards any zany hijinx had to be when the announcer/DJ cued up the 'YMCA' only to see one pair of arms raised. Watching the scoreboard's plaintive cries of "GET LOUD!" and "DE-FENSE!" patently ignored was a close second. That's not to say there were no attempts at fan participation and entertainment. They let kids shoot free throws at halftime to win prizes. And the Kings did supply their own announcer/DJ who was in charge of finding the crowd's mojo and then just stroking it so. The Announcer/DJ was just special. Never letting go of the mic, he kept the crowd abreast of who scored, who was in foul trouble and how much Thorogood you were going to hear (plenty). Blissfully, and unbelievably, unaware of his audience (Note: I was one of four white people in a crowd of 200), he dialed up the classic rock early and often. For every Busta Rhymes number during a timeout, he came back with a two-fer of AC/DC and Gun n' Roses. It's not often you see a DJ dealt a clearly audible insult from the crowd, only to see the insult volleyed back to the tune of 'Cotton-Eye Joe'. Quite a sight. Quite a sound. The guy had balls. As for the on-court action, it was better than expected, especially on defense. It was a genuine surprise to see effort on that end of the court from both teams. I was expecting to pay for a USBL game and have an And 1 Mix Tape break out. But a look at the bottom of the program went a long way to explaining the attention to defense: "*players and numbers subject to change without notice." Pretty much the office equivalent of having your nameplate in pencil. At the wages the players probably get paid, everybody is replaceable...that night. Unfortunately this night would have no capers or bloopers worthy of an appearance on the late, great Jay Johnstone's "The Lighter Side of Sports." The best moment occurred when ex-Memphis product and current King Shamel Jones wagged his finger Dikembe-style at an Adirondack Wildcat player after a 'block'. Never mind that the rim, not Jones blocked the dunk. Not even the hometown crowd believed Jones, and they let him know as much. In the end, the Kings pulled out a 95-89 win over the Wildcats. But the score was relatively immaterial. The crowd came for a good time, and pretty much got it. They got local boy made (somewhat) good Antawn Dobie hitting a three and then pointing to his boys - literally, it looked like he had two kids who were in attendance. The teen set in the upper rows got their dance on to some song I am entirely too white and unfunky to know the name of (the DJ finally caved in to his audience requests, and went easy on the classic rock in the fourth quarter). I even got to see someone who may make the Association. Remember this name: Jimmy "Snap" Hunter. Once he stepped over half-court, he was within his range. No joke. In a few years though, the Kings probably won't be the only game in Brooklyn. Hell, they may not even be around when the Nets come. When the Nets do set up shop, they'll do so in a pristine Frank Ghery-inspired arena with all the trimmings -- $200 seats, HVAC that works, a brew pub, etc... -- sponsored by some airline, but it will still lack the charm and $8 courtside seats of the USBL. I only hope that when the Nets take our taxpayer money to fund their private dreams, that they at least have the decency to hire a announcer/DJ who'll stuff B.T.O. down a crowd's collective throat, public opinion be damned. |