Showing posts with label form and function. Show all posts
Showing posts with label form and function. Show all posts

Tuesday, February 10, 2009

"Mo' Better Hoops": Magic, Larry, and the "Form/Function Debate" (Part 3)

(If you haven't read PART 1 or PART 2 as of this post, you should go back in order to get more clarity on this theory's origins. Thanks.)

Earvin “Magic” Johnson was a basketball player that embraced Africana “form” in basketball, and exists as the purest “formal” basketball player in the NBA’s storied history.

Magic, like my father, was born in 1959, a tumultuous year in our world’s history. Field Castro had just usurped power from Batista to begin his socialist regime in Cuba, A Raisin in the Sun premiered on Broadway, and a young Magic was born into a large, working-class family from the streets of Michigan. Johnson’s father was a factory man for General Motors and his mother was a school custodian. Magic was the sixth of ten children, and often sang on the street corners with his boys. However, it was clear to his neighbors and friends from the outset that Magic developed his persona through a genuine love of the game of basketball.

Just like my father, one of Magic’s favorite players was Earl “the Pearl” Monroe. The kid they called "Junior" or "June Bug" could be seen on neighborhood courts as early as 7:30am on many mornings. In an interview with USA Weekend, Magic famously quoted that "I dribbled to the store with my right hand and back with my left. Then I slept with my basketball." Young Earvin’s passion for basketball superseded a love shown by most kids, which propelled Earvin to unimagined success on every level of rigorous competition.

A Lansing sportswriter gave the nickname of “Magic” to Earvin after watching one of his tremendous high school games where he saw the prep star notch 36 points, snag 16 rebounds, and dish 16 assists. At first, the nickname went against the wishes of his mother, who was a devout Christian and believed it to be blasphemous. However, the “Magic” moniker stuck, and further endears fans to Earvin "Magic" Johnson to this day.

Like any top-notch basketball magician, Magic was heavily recruited by an abundance of coaches and scouts for the top collegiate basketball programs in the nation. Interestingly, Magic chose to attend his hometown school of Michigan State over the UCLA Bruins and Bob Knight’s Indiana Hoosiers because coach Jud Heathcote promised to allow the 6’ 9’’ Magic (a prototypical height for a forward) to play the point guard position. Even in this early career choice, we see that Magic refused to confine his “formal” skills to the prescribed template for college basketball success. Often, collegiate coaches stifle the growth and free-flow expression of young athletes because of their insatiable appetite for temporary victory. (I will come back to this concept later on in my series).

Because of his fortuitous decision, Magic was able to blossom into a superior “formal” player – becoming the best point guard of all-time.


However, while Magic excelled as this purely “formal” player, functionality still existed as the premier teaching strategy in basketball. And as I mentioned in Part 1, no region of America was more heavily based in this “functional” approach to hoops than the great Midwestern plain of Indiana.

However, another great player emerged out of this functional abyss – Larry Joe Bird. Bird was born in West Baden, Indiana, a town that demographically remains staunchly White to this day (94% in the 2000 US Census). I make this statement not to criticize West Baden from their lack of diversity (after all, American is still 65-70% White), but rather to illustrate the fact that Larry Bird was birthed into a town devoid of features found in Africana traditions and meaning-making. Simply put, “The Hick from French Lick” learned basketball in an environment conducive to “functional” basketball training.

Similar to Magic Johnson, Larry Bird also had a tough upbringing. The Bird family was poverty-stricken, and Bird’s parents were often forced to make tough choices. In a 1988 interview with Sports Illustrated, Bird mentioned that “if there was a payment to the bank due, and we needed shoes, she'd get the shoes, and then deal with them guys at the bank. I don't mean she wouldn't pay the bank, but the children always came first.” While his adoring fans may have called him the “Great White Hope”, a player constructed to dominate individual of other races, Bird never saw himself as a basketball imperialist. Bird was a timid, country guy who was simply a savant of the hardwood.

However, Larry Bird did have one distinct characteristic that set him apart from his functional companions: “Basketball Jesus" was incredibly clutch. While the clutch attribute remains an immeasurable attribute to categorize (along with being “in the zone”), there was no question among basketball fanatics of Larry Bird’s ability to come through at the most opportune times.

Unlike Magic, Larry received an athletic scholarship to Indiana University. However, upon attending Indiana, Bird was harassed by current Hoosier star Kent Benson. After a tough semester, Bird decided to drop out and return home. Bird spent the next year working for the Street Department and playing AAU basketball. His game caught the attention of Indiana State, who invited Bird to attend the school.

Meanwhile, Magic Johnson was tearing through the collegiate ranks. After his freshman year, Magic was named among the top ten returning sophomores by Sports Illustrated, and went on to average 17 points, 7.6 rebounds, and 7.1 assists during his collegiate career. During his final season, Michigan State raced to the NCAA Championship game. Similarly, Larry Bird’s Indiana State squad dominated their side of the tournament bracket, setting up an epic matchup between the two titans of amateur basketball – Larry Bird and Magic Johnson. In a game that still holds the record for television viewership, Magic’s Spartans defeated Bird’s Sycamores 75-64. Johnson was designated as the tournament’s Most Outstanding Player and drafted first overall by the Los Angeles Lakers. Bird, already drafted a year prior by visionary Red Auerbach, joined a powerhouse Celtic franchise in the East.

And the NBA’s greatest rivalry was born.

While Bird and Magic would battle for years in the NBA, with Magic grabbing five titles to Bird’s three, a more important battle ensued in the basketball undertow. Magic’s arrival and success on the big stage invariably shook the “functional” foundation of basketball, leading to a rigorous debate between “form” and “function”. The debate raged throughout the 1980’s, with tensions rising and falling with each Laker/Celtic championship battle.
The argument saved the league from extinction, but the debate was never fully resolved until one exceptional player graced the league stage in 1985. This man showed the basketball world that the answer to the “form/function” debate was not predicated on a choice of one theory or the other, but rather a fusion of both basketball elements. When Magic famously said that "there would never, ever, ever be another Larry Bird" at the Celtic forward's retirement, he was right. Because of this next man, "functional" basketball would never again exist in its purest state in the National Basketball Association.

Enter Michael Jeffrey Jordan.
Michael A. Benjamin II

Thursday, January 29, 2009

"Mo' Better Hoops": Basketball and the African Aesthetic (Part 1)

Before we begin conversing in this P.O.T. blog space this week, I first would like to thank everyone who actually takes the time to read/browse/skim my articles. Last week, I found out from a friend that one of my articles was nominated by the Hilltop staff for the “Best Column of the Year” award given by the various newspaper staffs at HBCUs around the country. When I heard this news, I was absolutely floored, because as a writer, you’re never truly sure if your writing makes sense, if the words weave together like a Shakespearian sonnet, or if you actually inspire/entertain the reading audience. Simply put, getting public recognition from an established college newspaper like the Hilltop was a symbolic but important step in my growing process as a writer. People like me…they really, really like me, I thought.

After my friend told me this information, I felt like I had just ended my first kiss all over again. My mind turned to jambalaya, my head was spinning, and my lips were unable to conceal my enormous grin. So, to every person who has ever scratched their heads after reading one of my many topical jokes, to every person who wondered why I compared Andre Iguodala to Young Gunz, to every person that prayed for me during my travels to Delaware, Mexico, Panama, and Beijing, and to every person who argues my playoff picks to death, I thank you for your support. Last but definitely not least, I thank Jesus Christ for providing me with the inspiration and the skills. You the man, God.

Okay, now that the emotive stuff is out of the way, let’s get to the fun stuff.

Dr. Gregory Carr, professor and instructor of my course entitled “Black Aesthetics” at Howard University, discussed the concept of the “blue note” and its relation to the African (Black) aesthetic. Simply put, the “blue note” is more than just a string of notes and sounds compiled to create enjoyable rock music in America during the 1960s and 1970s. Carr asserts that “blue notes” – or notes played at a lower pitch for expressive quality – are indicative of the full African experience and influence much of Africana (Black) culture, politics, and tradition to this day.

For a contemporary example, we dissected the music of Mary J. Blige. First off, we collectively agreed - for the purposes of this exercise - that Mary J. Blige does not and has never possessed the greatest vocal pipes in the world. Simply put: Mary J. cannot sing. However, Carr argued that if one listens to “Real Love”, "I'm Going Down", or most of Mary J.'s other songs in her discography, an assessment regarding the influence of the African aesthetic can be made. Dr. Carr proceeded to sing “Real Love” a Capella in class, proving by emphasizing the “blue note” structure in the song that Mary J. Blige has perfected (ahem, mastered) the art of hitting the “blue note”. Because of this mastery, fans of her music can relate to her plight, glide along with the rhythm and motion of her songs, and generally block out her relatively mediocre (less than exceptional, anyway) vocals.

I agree with Doc Carr’s sentiment, and argue that the “blue note” phenomenon easily translates over to the formulation of black identity within the context of basketball. “Blue note” or the need to create an Africana identity is an impulse inherent in the minds and hearts of all African peoples and can be channeled into any aspect of society. I had a conversation with my friend Steve, co-host of the sports talk show “Instant Replay” on Mondays from 6-8pm at WHBC 830am with me, and discussed this influence of “blue note” aesthetics – flow, call-and-response, rhythm, etc. - on any players (most specifically, black players) who apply this “form” concept to basketball. I further argue that these black players generally exhibit a poetical mastery of basketball that remains absent from greater American basketball culture.

Check it out.





Before we deconstruct the attributes of basketball found in African cultural traditions, I must first show you, the reader, the two differing viewpoints in regards to basketball theory. In order for you to follow this paper’s line of thought, consider both basketball theory camps as the two different political parties present in the United States, Democrat and Republican. The first camp - Democrats, for the purpose of our example - possesses those purists who believe basketball should exist solely as a creative, free-flowing, untainted exercise in beauty – simply put, “form” or “poetry in motion”. The second camp (Republicans) believe the best brand of basketball to be a game that serves a purpose, a means to an end, a solution to a problem – namely, that basketball exist as “functional”.

Where can the purest expressions of both theories be located? I’m glad you asked.

“Poetry in motion” or “form” basketball can be analyzed in raw form on the playgrounds of tough inner city areas (Brooklyn, Southside Chicago, Harlem, and Lower East Side). Here, the game is played amidst radios blaring and beautiful women, far away from those seeking to poison its beauty with archaic constructions and mundane structures. (Hey, if you need strong movie examples of the blacktop basketball tradition for greater understanding, I’d advice watching “Hoop Dreams” or the first-half of “Glory Road” (when Coach Haskins travels to recruit black dudes on inner-city courts).



“Functional” basketball can be analyzed in its purest form primarily in the Hoosier state of Indiana, a state largely absent of black influences and African cultural meaning-making. Here, basketball was played largely in school gymnasiums due to the excess of farmland, with repetition and “hustle” (a undefined concept that stems from the rural tradition of "hard work" in Middle America) existing as defining characteristics of those individuals considered spectacular by the masses. (Again, for a generic movie example, watch “Hoosiers” with Gene Hackman).



In my next few blog entries, I’ll talk about the history of the struggle between “form” and “function” in basketball - a struggle that in some ways reflects a loose schism between blacks and whites in American society. After that, I’ll examine the lengthy trails left by both basketball theories and trace “form” and “function” theory to subsequent basketball superstars in the present day. In addition, I’ll argue for the need to society to once again embrace the elements of “form” basketball in our youth, elements that are swiftly being ignored because of rising greed found in individuals and corporate entities seeking to make dollars rather than promote artistic expression. Left unchecked, this outlook can be dangerous and stifle the creative genes that lay dormant in our youth, eroding away the artistry that makes basketball a unique and beautiful sport, similar to the traditions of preceding African societies.

By the way, don’t think I’m writing this to ridicule and attack white people. There are white players who exhibit "form" in their play similarly to blacks. There are also many white basketball theorists that embrace “form” theory in the sport. Anyway, just make sure to check out my next P.O.T. post for more understanding. Rest assured, it’ll pack a punch and help you waste even more quality time.

As for the Super Bowl, I’ve got Arizona over Pittsburgh. I have no real reason to pick the Cardinals other than my man crush on Larry Fitzgerald’s skills. So, deal with it.

And, as my man J-Till over at Fundamentally Unsound would say, “Peace”.

Michael A. Benjamin, II