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Copyright 2011 by Pete Hines

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems without permission in writing from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote short passages for review.

First Edition

Hines, Pete

Loving the Game

An Intriguing Blend of Basketball,

A Clever Computer and A Renovated Gym

ISBN: 978-1-4507-7066-8

Printed in the United States of America

Lightning Source Publishing

Heil Quaker Blvd

LaVergne, TN 37086

Acknowledgments

Loving the Game started on a trip to the local library about 12 years ago. I went to the sports section on the second floor and found an old encyclopedia on basketball. It was called The NBA’s Official Encyclopedia of Pro Basketball. When I opened it, I saw an advertisement for the very first basketball hoop. It was then that I got the idea to write a story about the history of basketball.

I would like to thank the following people who helped me take my idea and turn it into a book.

Dr. Joyce H. Winfield of Writing Resources,

editor and proofreader

Sally Cobau, creative writer

Linda Heibel, writing and proofreading assistant

James Catlett, cover design

Carol Ruzicka, illustrations

Dr. Alcyone Scott, college freshman English professor

Loving the Game

An Intriguing Blend of Basketball

A Clever Computer

and A Renovated Gym

Pete Hines

Foreword

Loving the Game was written for those who love the game of basketball. Whether you are a player, coach, fan, or sports enthusiast, this book will provide you with insight into how the modern game of basketball evolved.

The resources for this book are listed on the page of references. All facts were checked for accuracy, and any errors were unintentional.

The purpose for writing Loving the Game was to highlight the challenges the early players faced. This included arduous traveling all night to get to the next game. There were unruly and angry fans and they threw anything from nails to tomatoes at the traveling team. Referees made calls that seemed to favor the home team. They played in gyms with slick floors and poor lighting. Players worked all week at their jobs and then played on the weekends for minimal pay. Then they would have to rush home to make it to work on Monday morning, usually deprived of sleep.

Ralph is the main character throughout the story. He is a thinking computer developed by Ted, who used Alan Turing’s theories to formulate the ever-evolving Ralph. If Turing had lived longer, I am confident computers would have advanced 20 years beyond today’s technology. With Turing’s genius mind, I am sure we would have a thinking computer today.

My love for sports kept me going in my endeavor to write a book that any sports enthusiast should thoroughly enjoy.

Prologue: Trenton, New Jersey

Nov. 7, 1896

On a brisk November night in 1896, 700 fans were making their way up the cement steps to the Masonic Temple to watch a basketball game. In bold letters out front, the billboard announced the home team – Trenton, New Jersey – would be playing the Brooklyn YMCA basketball team. Fans could cheer on the hometown favorites for 25 cents a seat, while standing room went for 15 cents.

The Masonic Temple in Trenton, with its three floors, served many functions for the community. The first floor was occupied by a variety of stores. The second floor was where the Masonic offices were located, and the third floor was a large social hall designed for dances and banquets. It also served as a basketball gym. Each side of the gym had portable baskets that were removed for the dance after the game. The gym floor that was encased in a large 12-foot high wire cage caused problems for the players because the floor was waxed for dances. The players would cut themselves on the cage when they rammed into it. Sometimes after a game, the floor would be covered in blood.

Fred Padderatz, the part-time manager of the Trenton team, was a carpenter by trade. He built the first cage out of chicken wire. After several injuries from the wire cage, team captain Fred Cooper made a cage out of steel mesh. The baskets, which were made out of braided cord, didn’t have holes at the bottom. So, the referee had to remove the ball with a long pole after each basket was made. The ball itself was lumpy and pumpkin-shaped and hard to dribble and shoot. It was made of leather with a rubber bladder inside. There wasn’t a backboard.

The team players wore the uniform that was typical of their time – high-top shoes constructed of soft leather with eight eyelets for the laces, sleeveless jerseys, and wool knee socks. The bottoms of the shoes had large dime-sized divots taken out for better traction. In fact, it looked as if someone had taken an ice cream dipper and cut out the divots. The holes were about a half-inch apart. A.G. Spalding and Brothers made a top-of-the-line shoe for $4, whereas cheaper shoes cost $1. (A couple of years later players were using a shoe known as the tennis sneaker; it was designed specifically for basketball. It was a high top made out of canvas with a sole made out of rubber with holes put in for better traction.) A top-of-the-line uniform in the A.G. Spalding catalogue went for $14.95.

The rules of the game were complicated since different sets of rules were used at different games, but the fans were eager to watch the teams compete. The screaming fans cheered on the players during a frenzied, brutal game filled with broken bones, bloody noses, and players attacking the refs. The lumpy ball, the odd uniforms, the courts that were really dance halls – these were the first days of basketball!

Discovering the Gym

New York City, 1995

Charles’ Porsche weaved down 96th Street on his way to Mickey’s Diner where he had an appointment. Ralph asked the 40-year-old Charles, “What kind of music do you want to hear?” He replied, “My favorite, of course. ‘Monday, Monday’ by the Mamas and Papas.” Ralph didn’t have to change channels; in fact, he didn’t have to do anything. Ralph did everything but sing the songs. You see, Ralph was a computer created by Charles’ half-crazy, genius friend, Ted. Ralph knew everything, including things he probably shouldn’t know. Sometimes Charles considered Ralph as a best friend.

Charles had something that looked like a radar detector sitting on the dash of his car. Actually, it was an electronic device that let Ralph see what was going on down the road. He could talk through the radio speakers and also let Charles know when he was speeding. Ralph could pop open the sunroof and stick his “head” out when he wanted a clearer view of the world. Charles had installed a movie cam that rested on top of an electronic arm nestled between the car seats. This arrangement let Ralph view the world from a variety of different angles.

As Charles was turning the last corner before arriving at the diner, two policemen in their cruiser pulled up about a block away. They didn’t see many Porsches in the neighborhood and thought they should investigate. After Charles parked just outside the diner and started getting out of his Porsche, the policemen were already walking toward Charles.

“What’s going on?” one of them asked Charles, as they sauntered over to him.

“I have a business meeting at the diner,” answered Charles. As the policemen exchanged glances, Charles said he had an appointment with a contractor.

After taking his license and calling it in, they told Charles to be careful in this neighborhood.

“I will,” he said, “but I think I like it here.”

“Yeah, right,” said one of the policemen, looking around at the other businesses that surrounded the diner, the only building on the whole block with a fresh coat of paint.

Charles just nodded, respectfully. As Charles was climbing the stairs heading into the diner, the officers headed back to their cruiser. Ralph was curious and pulled the sunroof back and popped up for a look. He greeted the two officers, “Good morning, Officers Lauritsen and Murphy.”

Surprised, the two officers turned and looked to see who knew their names.

“What are you?” demanded Officer Lauritsen.

“My name is Ralph. I’m a portable computer programmed with human qualities.”

“How do you know our names?” asked Officer Murphy.

“I saw your names on your badges.”

The officers looked at each other. “What else do you know about us?” asked Murphy.

“Well, Murphy, you’ve been on the police force for 30 years and received an accommodation for bravery. And you, Officer Lauritsen have been on the police force for 20 years and were given citations for doing your job well above the call of duty.”

Lauritsen replied that Murphy was only on the police force for 29 years.

“Well,” said Ralph, “In two weeks, it will be 30 years.”

Murphy agreed. “You’re right. How did you know that?”

“I have access to a lot of information,” Ralph replied.

Just then, the officers received a call for backup help. As they turned to leave, Murphy said they would later conduct their own investigation on Ralph.

After the officers left, Ralph saw some boys dribbling a basketball down the street. They noticed Ralph peering above the rooftop of the Porsche and asked him who (or what) he was.

“My name’s Ralph.”

The boys pointed at Ralph’s funny appearance. They passed the ball back and forth as their curiosity mounted. Finally, Ralph asked if they would like him to play some music.

Without hesitation, one of the boys said, “Sure.” So, Ralph offered up some James Brown and also produced a picture of James Brown in the form of a hologram. The boys couldn’t believe how it really looked like James Brown in person. They also couldn’t believe that Ralph could do all of that with the music and the picture. After going through some of their cool dance moves, one of them spoke up and said, “Let’s get something to eat.” Taking two diner steps at a time, they stopped and turned when they reached the door. They laughed when they could still see that very realistic image of James Brown.

Meanwhile, Charles was settling in with Samuel Jacobsen. Charles always liked visiting with Samuel, a general building contractor. Unfortunately, Samuel was having some financial problems due to a company named Cybertex that had refused to pay him for past services. Charles liked Samuel and considered him an honest businessman and good dining companion.

While Charles and Samuel were enjoying their meal, the boys entered the diner. As they sat down in a corner booth, they stared at Charles and Samuel. One of them said loudly, “What are these guys doing in this neighborhood?” Charles glanced toward them and responded, “Hey, how are you all doing?” The boys ignored the question and turned their attention to the waitress who was waiting to take their order.

Charles could overhear their conversation. They had decided to play a game of pickup basketball after they ate. Just a short time later, they gave

Charles and Samuel long stares as they walked by on the way to pay their bill. Samuel had paid no attention to the boys as he continued telling Charles the story of his financial woes. Charles listened while watching the boys. Samuel had now paused and was looking at Charles.“I’ll check into the matter for you,” Charles replied.

The boys were now by the cash register. They dug deep into their pockets and Charles could see the waitress shake her head, as if this was a familiar scenario. They were exactly $2.35 short of what they needed. The waitress folded her arms across her chest. She looked overworked and tired, but still there was a slight look of bemusement towards the boys.

At the same time, Charles was ready to pay for Samuel’s and his sandwiches and coffee. He rose and made his way towards the cash register where he stood by the boys. Then without saying a word, he counted out another $2.35 for their ticket. Charles put the money on the counter. “I’ll get theirs,” he told the waitress.

The boys were surprised by Charles’ gesture. They backed away and a couple of them mumbled “thanks” as they made their way out of the diner. No one had done anything like this before, especially a white guy with a weird robot in his car. What other luck could the day bring?

Charles was pleased, and it felt good to help the boys – even if it was in such a small way. He chuckled, remembering how the boys had devoured their burgers and fries.

Getting into his Porsche, Charles started driving home (still listening to the Mamas and Papas and even singing along), but it wasn’t late and he didn’t feel like calling it a day. He turned down an unfamiliar street a few blocks from the diner and he immediately noticed a dilapidated building. As he drove by, he began to wonder what used to be in that building. It may have been a courthouse or maybe a gym.

Then as if he had a flash into the future, he knew that it was a gym that he saw. It was an almost eerie feeling, realizing there was a reason why he had turned down 99th Street. He drove to the next corner and turned around.

“Where are we going?” asked practical Ralph.

“Back to that gym.”

“Why?”

“Well, I don’t really know,” admitted Charles.

Some questions started forming in Charles’ mind. If it was a gym, what teams played there? Were the teams and players famous? He knew instinctively that at one point, the building had been full of activity. Although he usually wasn’t like this, being more methodical about things, for some reason he felt drawn to the building. He felt for some odd reason that he should go inside.

Next, he was steering into the deserted parking lot. It was a sad sight – trash and weeds littered the side of the lot. A rusty can blew in the slight breeze. He pulled beside and stopped by a rusty 1960 Chevy Biscayne. It looked like it hadn’t moved for years. A tattered sheet of plastic replaced the missing windshield and was flapping in the breeze. Weeds with purple flowers grew through the pavement cracks. A basketball hoop was still standing, with a few strands of the net dangling below the rim. This definitely had been a gymnasium.

Charles decided to get out and see if he could get inside the old gym. He didn’t see any doors on the side, but there was an old drainpipe that ran up to a ledge near one of the windows. Before he could consider the possible consequences of his actions, Charles had grabbed the drainpipe and shimmied up the short three feet until he could place his knees on the ledge and peer inside. (All of that tennis was helping to keep him in shape.) From this view he couldn’t see much, but he did manage to make out the gym floor and a section of the bleachers. He imagined people sitting on those bleachers and cheering. He imagined cheerleaders in the front twirling colorful pompoms, their hair tied up in ponytails with long ribbons.

It now occurred to him that he was trespassing. What would Ralph think? He chuckled at the thought. He felt he should leave but something held him there, perched in that awkward spot. That old gym intrigued him.

Suddenly, he began to relive his own basketball memories. He visualized the basketball hoop attached to the front of the garage. He remembered shooting baskets and practicing free throws for hours when school was done for the summer.

In spite of all his practice, he had been one of the first boys to get cut when he tried out for the high school basketball team. However, his love of the game resulted in many long hours of shooting baskets at home. Those hurt feelings he experienced as a 15 year old still bothered him now.

Charles considered himself somewhat of a basketball fanatic. He knew lots of trivia. Perhaps that is what led him to his current bizarre situation. Charles was thinking that finding a door on one of the sides of the building would make for an easier entry than this window. So, he slid down the drainpipe and walked around the north side looking for a door. He found what he thought was the main entrance. A rusty padlock was hanging from two chain links, but it didn’t look too secure.

Charles went back to the car to get a flashlight and something to pry open the lock. He got the tire iron from the trunk and a flashlight he kept in an emergency toolkit. He told Ralph that he would be in the gym looking around and it may be a few minutes before he got back. Ralph told him to wear his headset in case there was any trouble. Ralph could communicate with Charles via the headset they had designed. Charles returned to the front door and pried on the lock. After a big jerk with the tire iron, the lock broke. Charles was able to open the door wide enough to slide in sideways. Ralph asked Charles what all the noise was about and Charles told him he had just opened the door.

“Be careful, boss,” was Ralph’s terse reply, but Charles knew that Ralph was equally excited. This was not part of their usual post-meal routine.

Once inside, Charles could barely see because it was so dark. Only a faint light filtered in from the dirty windows that were located at the top of the gym. He turned on the flashlight, walked inside, and then he could see the gym floor. As he went through the open entry door into the main gym, the wood creaked beneath his feet. He kept walking and figured he must be somewhere near the middle of the gym. Moving the flashlight to his left and right, Charles saw the bleachers. He could almost hear the echo of the fans cheering from all those years ago.

There were ghosts in here (not that Charles believed in ghosts, being the practical attorney that he was). He knew it was just the flashlight beam casting strange shadows. After what seemed like 20 feet or so, he entered a locker room. Metal lockers lined one wall; a long bench the players used to sit on when getting dressed took up the middle.

The room had the familiar scent of a locker room even all these years later. In the hush of the room, he imagined the players who could have been here – what victories and defeats the men must have experienced. Rubbing against a locker, it felt cool to his touch. He could imagine a coach charging up his team, giving instructions, and drawing plays on the old chalkboard. It still had the faint image of XX and OO and a curved line showing the movement for one of the players.

It must have been exciting to be in the locker room as a skilled athlete, sitting on that bench and listening to the coach’s instructions. Charles wondered what color the uniforms would have been. Some were maybe a shade of blue with white numbers. Once again, he thought of himself as a boy, shooting all those free throws. He wished he had been talented enough to make the team so he could have worn a uniform.

Soon Charles was jolted back to reality and he walked toward a shower stall. He moved his flashlight around and saw some names written on some of the shower walls – Clarence “Fats” Jenkins, Wee Willie Smith, Eyre “Bruiser” Saitch. Charles “Tarzan” Cooper was scrawled in one corner. Bill Yancey was by itself written toward the bottom. John Holt and James “Pappy” Ricks were under Cooper’s name on the right side of the shower wall. Now Charles was curious about the other locker room.

He quickly walked out into the hallway and back down the entry that took him back to the gym floor. Crossing the creaky floor, he opened a door that led to a storage room. Rusty buckets and dirty mops were in a pile by a corner. Half-empty bottles of cleaning solutions lined a shelf. Charles closed the door and went down the hallway a little further that led to another locker room. It was a carbon copy of the first one. Charles opened a locker and found a faded jersey, but he could make out the number “19” on it and the word “Celtics.” He could hardly believe he had found a jersey that had been left behind. He took the jersey from the metal hook and grasped it in his left hand. Charles walked into the shower stall and could make out a few names on the wall. It was dark, but he could read some names when he moved the flashlight real close. Joe Lapchick and Davey Banks – the names seemed to glow in the eerie light cast by the dimming flashlight. Charles remembered that Lapchick was a great center and later coach for the Original Celtics. Could he have played in this gym? To the right of those names was Dutch Dehnert. Charles’ interest in basketball trivia clicked, and he knew Dehnert first used the pivot play. Underneath Dehnert’s name was written Nat Holman (a great ball handler), Pete Barry, and Chris Leonard.

As Charles’ fading flashlight beam was scanning another shower wall, Ralph called. Ralph’s jerky, high-pitched voice said, “Officers Lauritsen and Murphy have just arrived. They’re looking at your Porsche.”

Charles knew he didn’t have much time. “I’m coming,” he said, his voice echoing in the almost empty room. He could hear Ralph talking to the officers. Good old Ralph would help buy him time.

“Stall them,” he said to Ralph through his headphone, “for as long as you can. I have to find the front door and get out of here.”

The officers asked Ralph what Charles was doing here. Ralph replied that Charles was interested in seeing what the old gym looked like. Murphy asked where Charles was and Ralph directed the officers to the south side of the building. As they left to go look for Charles, Ralph told Charles to get out of the gym quickly.

Charles now was standing in the middle of the gym floor. When he saw a faint light coming from the windows by the door, he started running across the gym, trying to beat the officers to the front door. He realized he still had the tire iron and he ran toward the bleachers. He placed the flashlight and the tire iron underneath the first row of bleachers and headed toward the main door. Suddenly, he remembered the jersey. He didn’t want to leave it in the gym because it was much too valuable. He stuffed the jersey under his shirt by his back and then retucked his shirt tightly into his slacks.

The officers were still outside the gym and hadn’t turned the corner toward the main entrance. Meanwhile, Charles had made it to the doors, slowly pushed open one side, and glanced outside. Not seeing Murphy and Lauritsen, he squeezed through the opening, pushed the doors together, and put the lock back through two links on the chain. The lock wouldn’t close tightly, so he aligned it to look like no one had tampered with it. It wasn’t the greatest job in the world but maybe it would pass. Charles kept close to the building as he tried to flatten the old jersey that was under his shirt.

Just then Officers Lauritsen and Murphy came around the corner. Charles waved at them, but they just looked irritated.

“What are you doing here?” asked Lauritsen. Charles was thinking of the jersey balled in the back of his shirt, how much it may be worth, and how crazy it had been for him to be walking around a basketball court in the dark.

Charles took the headset off and put it around his neck.

“Uhhh, nothing,” he stammered. “I . . . I just wanted to see what the gym looked like.” He tried to make his voice sound calm and relaxed, but it didn’t help that he was sweating.

“Do you know that you could be arrested for trespassing?” asked Murphy.

“I didn’t see any trespassing signs posted,” Charles said. Being an attorney, Charles knew the law and figured he would have a good case because he was on public property. Murphy started walking toward the door and glanced at the chain and lock. He said it looked like someone had been tampering with it. Charles just knew the officers could hear his heart pounding loudly. They looked at him and Charles thought it was an eternity before Murphy finally said, “You better get out of here. This neighborhood can be pretty rough.”

Charles started walking sideways towards the car, hoping the officers wouldn’t detect the jersey bulging from his back. Luckily, they were examining the front door again. Charles got in the car, put his headset back on, and told Ralph, “Man, that was close.” He then thanked Ralph for giving him the warning to get out of the gym.

“What did you find in there anyway?” asked Ralph, who was always curious.

Charles shrugged and pulled out the balled-up jersey.

“Nice, very nice,” nodded Ralph, “but you’re lucky you didn’t land in jail.”

They both chuckled and Charles figured it was time to get back home. He had had enough excitement for one evening. He wondered again what teams had played in that gym – victories and defeats. The old gym had a lot of history locked up inside, waiting to be discovered.

A Game in the Gym

March 25, 1935

The steel factory had blazing streaks of light coming from the molten steel, jumping into the air after hitting the enormous kettle pots it was being poured into. The steel took on a life of its own as it flowed down the metal chutes. It looked like a snake in pursuit of its prey, turning and twisting as it headed to its destination. It was hard to believe that this liquid metal would be used to create the automobiles the American public so coveted.

At the end of the corridor Jake, a foreman, walked with two factory workers. The men liked Jake because he had an easygoing personality; also, if they had a problem they could confide in him. Jake had started out in the factory as a maintenance worker and had worked up through the ranks until he had been promoted to one of the top jobs. A tall man with curly black hair, he was an excellent go-between when the men had a grievance against the company. He was a good listener. Jake also knew a lot about sports; in fact, he had a passion for sports.

Jake and the two men stopped at the place where the molten steel was beginning to harden. They were discussing which basketball team was going to win tonight. Jake said he was placing his money on The New York Renaissance Five (the Rens), an all-black team. The other two men were betting on the Original Celtics, an all-white team. The Celtics were having a great season and were expected to win most of their games.

The anticipation for tonight’s game had been building for several weeks with bets being taken over breaks in the lunchroom. A few men had even bet their entire week’s paycheck because they were sure the Celtics would win. This was going to be an exciting game.

Most of the steel workers, including Jake, were going to be heading over to O’Brien’s, the local tavern. Their shift had ended and the men gathered in the restroom to clean up. Leaning over the washbasins and scrubbing their hands and faces with the warm soapy water, it would take a few minutes of scrubbing to get rid of this reminder of the day’s work. Some of their faces and arms were almost completely black and the water felt so refreshing.

In the next few minutes, there would be a mass exodus of steel workers heading down the few blocks to O’Brien’s. The men pulled up the collars on their coats and yanked down on the bills of their hats as the late winter cold and wind bit at them.

O’Brien’s was the tavern of choice, a simple place with a lot of character. On this particular night, O’Brien’s was starting to get packed as the men from the factory poured through the front door. The establishment had dim lighting and Jake could see the wisps of cigarette smoke floating in the air.

Jake walked over to a round table that was crowded with a group of men smoking Lucky Strikes, telling jokes, discussing the economy, sports, and anything else that was on their minds. Jake listened as the men tipped their bottles of Hamm’s beer while expressing how they were glad to be done with work for the week.

Claire, the waitress, skillfully maneuvered around the small tables. She smiled at Jake. She knew what each table of men liked to discuss and what type of beer the regulars drank. She gave great service and the men rewarded her by leaving good tips.

They especially liked arguing about sports. Tonight’s first topic of discussion was who was the best hitter in baseball. Roger, a muscular steel worker, said Jolt (Joe DiMaggio) was the best. Ken, another steel worker who was always smiling, thought Babe Ruth was at the top. Someone from the next table shouted out that Roger Hornsby was king. Bruce, who was probably the strongest of the bunch and had an insatiable thirst for beer, said he would put his money on Lou Gehrig. Jim, who could lift more steel beams than anyone in the room, said Ted Williams was ahead of anyone in hitting. Williams’ stats would prove it, too.

Bill, a pretty skinny fellow, but one who could stand up to most anyone in a fight, said Bob Feller who played for Cleveland was the best pitcher. Most of the table agreed that the New York Yankees was the best team to ever play baseball. Everyone raised his bottle, toasting the Yankees. Jake was getting hot from heat and laughter.

When they put their bottles down and quit laughing, Jake said, “The best baseball team was the 1932 Pittsburgh Crawfords. They had the best pitcher who’s ever pitched in baseball, Satchel Paige, and the best hitter in Judy Johnson. They also had the game’s best all-around player, Josh Gibson. They won like they invented the game.”

Ken and Bruce nodded and said Jake just might be right. The conversation then turned to boxing.

Bruce said, “Max Schmeling’s the best boxer.”

Jim nodded, but added, “Jack Dempsey was the toughest.”

Ken argued, as he tipped back his beer, that Gene Tunney was the best.

Then Jake said, “Jack Johnson was the toughest boxer who ever lived.”

“No,” answered Bill, leaning back in his chair and motioning Claire for more beer, “Jess Willard was as good as any boxer to come along.”

“Hey,” interjected Roger, “Joe Louis, the Brown Bomber, could beat them all.” They all raised their beer bottles and saluted Joe Louis as the king of boxing.

After Claire set down more bottles, the conversation switched to that night’s basketball game. They were especially excited because two great teams were going to be on the court tonight – the Rens and the Original Celtics.

The game was going to start at 7:30 p.m. and that gave them enough time to eat the daily special of corned beef sandwiches and fried potatoes. After downing their last beers and finishing their meals, they tipped Claire, headed out of O’Brien’s, and started walking toward the gym just a few blocks away.

When they got outside the building, they could see the light that was coming from the gym windows. This was a solid building made of cement blocks. Posters plastered on the front door promoted both teams. When they entered, Jake and his cohorts stopped at the ticket booth. Tickets were normally 75 cents, but tonight they sold for a dollar – these were two great teams.

A heavyset man stood under the open archway leading into the gym. He took their tickets and told everyone to keep moving inside. When they took their seats, they were looking down on the gym floor. The gym vibrated as fans yelled and screamed at the players. The Rens were in their element, executing difficult moves. It was hard to believe this skilled team had to leave right after games so the players wouldn’t get seriously injured.

Most of the time food – and even dangerous items such as nails – was thrown at the players as they ran down the court. Chicken wire was used to protect players from the fans, but the wire didn’t keep out all the nails and metal bolts that were thrown. The wire did manage to keep the beer bottles from hitting the black players.

Both teams were on the floor warming up. One thing about the Rens – they were fearless. Their main obstacle wasn’t the opponent, and they were respected for their basketball skills. It was generally the fans the Rens’ players had to worry about. After the games, police had to escort the Rens’ bus out of town. Most restaurants wouldn’t serve the team, so more often than not they ended up eating cold-cut sandwiches on the bus. Also, most hotels wouldn’t accommodate the black players, so many nights they also slept on the bus.

Many of the Rens’ players were not even 6’ tall, but they made up for their lack of height with amazing shooting skills and blazing speed. Players for the Rens included 6’4’’ Charles “Tarzan” Cooper and 6’5” Wee Willie Smith. They controlled the inside for the Rens. Clarence “Fats” Jenkins at 5’7” ran the breaks for the team. Jenkins was considered to be the fastest man in basketball.

Bill Yancey (5’10”) and Eyre “Bruiser” Saitch (5’11”) were the primary outside threats. John Holt (5’11”) and James “Pappy” Ricks (5’11”) were the reserves.

The Celtics were composed of seasoned players with a rare combination of physical power and floor intelligence. The Celtics had as their inside players 6’5” Joe Lapchick, 5’8” Davey Banks, and 6’ Dutch Dehnert. At 5’11”, one of the guards was Nat Holman. At 5’10”, the other guard was Pete Barry. George Haggerty at 6’4” and John Beckman at 5’10” were the forwards. Chris Leonard at 6’ was their reserve. John Witty at 5’11” was coach and reserve player if needed.

On the sidelines, the coaches were yelling last minute instructions. The players walked to the middle of the court for the tipoff. Centers Joe Lapchick for the Celtics and Charles Cooper for the Rens did the jumping.

Cooper slapped the ball to Clarence Jenkins who broke down the court.

Jenkins spotted Bill Yancey in the corner and passed the ball to him. Yancey did a little body fake to the left and then dribbled straight to the basket for a two-point layup.

The players walked back to center court for the tipoff. Lapchick tipped the ball to Davey Banks who dribbled down the sideline. Banks passed to Dutch Dehnert who was set at the top of the key for his pivot play. He faked passing to John Beckman running off his left side and instead threw the ball to Nat Holman who was running off of his right side. Holman dribbled in for an easy layup.

After the Rens got the tipoff, Yancey took a pass from Wee Willie Smith. Yancey squared off at the top of the key and hit a long two-handed set shot.

The Celtics got the ensuring tipoff when Lapchick pushed the ball to George Haggerty. Cooper was closely guarding Haggerty as they crossed the center line. When Haggerty tried to pass to Banks, Eyre “Bruiser” Saitch intercepted the pass.

The teams seemed to be evenly matched as they traded baskets up and down the court. Midway through the first half during one of his time-outs, Rens’ coach Robert Douglas told his players to start trapping with two defensive players.

A man-to-man defense was utilized by all early teams. After Douglas’ time-out, the Celtics had the ball. Holman passed to Pete Barry who tried to dribble inside, but Jenkins stripped the ball. He threw an underhand pass down court to Smith who dribbled down the sideline, made a cut up the middle, and took the ball to the basket for a layup. The Celtics called a time-out.

Excitement was building in the crowded gym. Jake sat among the men, cheering, as the teams huddled during the time-out. He realized his collar was damp with perspiration. The men around him were yelling, the cares of their day in the steel factory clearly not on their minds.

The teams came back on the court. The Celtics were adjusting to the Rens’ defense, and the score had been close the entire half with neither team leading by more than four points.

Douglas signaled a play he had the Rens work on during practices involving Jenkins coming all the way down the key and setting a screen for forward Smith. In turn, Smith came off the screen and took a set shot.

The final play of the half had the Celtics’ Lapchick setting a screen on the right side of the court for Beckman. He dribbled nonstop down the baseline and hit a nice layup as the buzzer sounded.

The score was the Rens 16 and the Celtics 14. On their way to the locker room, the Rens could hear the fans yelling obscenities. They had heard them so many times the players paid no attention. Referring to obnoxious fans, Douglas always told the Rens, “Just ignore them.”

In the locker room, the Celtics were receiving instructions from coach John Witty. He was telling them they needed to set better screens for the players breaking to the basket. He also said they needed to be tougher on defense.

The buzzer sounded, ending the time in the locker room. The Rens were cautious walking between the narrow bleachers toward the court, and they made it without getting hit by anything. A few of the fans shouted obscenities as usual. It was tough playing, but Douglas was good at keeping their focus on the game.

The referees signaled the players in for the start of the second half. The Rens substituted John Holt

and James Ricks for Clarence Jenkins and Eyre Saitch. The Celtics substituted Chris Leonard for Davey Banks.

Joe Lapchick took control of the center jump and slapped the ball to George Haggerty. He took a couple of dribbles and then passed to Lapchick, who was guarded closely by Charles Cooper. So, Lapchick passed the ball back out to John Beckman. He then passed to Nat Holman who took it in for a layup.

The referee called both teams to the center of the court for the jump off. Lapchick outjumped Cooper and tapped the ball to Holman. He got trapped by two defenders but managed a high arching pass to Dutch Dehnert. At 6’8”, Lapchick was hard to stop even with a good defender like Cooper on him. Lapchick faked a shot and then dribbled around Cooper for a layup. There weren’t many players in the league who could stop Lapchick once he had made up his mind to go to the basket – he had speed, agility, and force.

Cooper got the next tipoff and tapped it to Ricks who started dribbling down the sideline when he heard Douglas yelling for a time-out. Douglas called the players over and told Wee Willie Smith to help out Cooper when Lapchick had the ball. That would mean Jenkins at 5’7” would have to guard not only his player but also help guard Lapchick. That would be no easy task.

Holt took the ball out-of-bounds on the sideline and passed to Ricks who dribbled down the middle of the court crossing the mid-court line. Ricks passed to Smith who was heavily guarded but managed to take a nice set shot that went high off the backboard and into the basket.

The Rens’ Smith was lined up for the jump ball when a fan threw a tomato at him and it splattered his jersey. The referee got a towel from the sidelines and handed it to Smith. Someone from the scorer’s table had run out to wipe the floor. One of the policemen near the exit took a few steps up in the bleachers to try and stop this behavior from the fans. They had started throwing more than just tomatoes. Smith did not react since this happened all the time and he was just used to it. Getting the ball down the court was what mattered. The referee resumed play with the tipoff.

After the tomato-throwing incident, the tough defensive play of Smith and Holt were starting to take a toll on the Celtics. The Rens had managed a 10-point lead with six minutes remaining in the game. The Celtics scored a couple of layups by setting up screens at the bottom of the key. But in the end, it was the Rens’ outside shooting from Yancey and Saitch that won the game for them, 31-28.

Ralph’s Creator

New York City, 1995

When Charles got to the office, he had a message waiting from his friend Ted. Ted was the “mad genius” who had created Ralph, using the early research of an equally eccentric mathematician, Alan Turing. Returning Ted’s call, Charles said he would stop by Ted’s apartment in a few minutes. After going through some papers and checking some legal reports, Charles drove to Ted’s apartment. The genius’ pad wasn’t much to look at. Besides two red vinyl chairs, a beat-up sofa that Charles had helped Ted pick up from the Goodwill, and an old black and white TV with rabbit ears, the apartment was pretty bare. Stacks of dishes piled in the sink and on the counter gave off a foul smell and Charles could see clothes heaped on the bed from the open bedroom door. In another room was Ted’s work area, a tiny space overloaded with electronic equipment, where Ralph had been assembled.

Like Frankenstein, Ralph was created to be a companion. Ted had diligently and passionately studied the work of Turing, his hero. Turing’s theory hypothesized that a computer could be programmed after the human brain. He called his machine a B-type unorganized machine. The human brain “talks” with its millions of brain cells or neurons by using synapses. Turing developed the theory that computers could work like the human brain by using artificial neurons and devices that modify the connections between them. In other words, by setting up a neural network in which each neuron-to-neuron connection must pass through a modifier device, Turing could create a “real” brain.

The difference between Turing’s computer and other computers consisted of Turing’s network that enabled the neurons to interconnect freely. In modern computers, the flow of information through the network from one layer to the next layer is restricted. It had taken years of hard work applying Turing’s theories before Ted had accomplished what he had set out to do – build a computer that would simulate the neural networks of the brain.

Ted was able to invent Ralph, a hyper computer – a computer that was programmed to think on its own. Ralph was programmed to be able to learn just like children when they are continually exposed to new learning environments. Ralph would learn more when Ted would input additional information. For now, he was happy listening to the Mamas and the Papas with Charles and finding out details about police officers.

Ted’s life was simple. He received military disability benefits after being diagnosed with post-traumatic stress disorder. He served in the Army from 1967-71 during the Vietnam War. Even though he was a genius at the computer, like his hero Turing, he had trouble holding down a job and taking care of his basic necessities. It was a struggle to pay the rent on time and have enough money in his checking account to pay other bills.

Charles checked on Ted from time to time, making sure he had food in the cupboards, was eating properly, and paying the rent. Several times, he had called the utility company when Ted’s electricity was turned off. Finally, Charles had talked with the landlord and the utility company to have Ted’s monthly bills forwarded to Charles’ office to make sure they got paid.

At night, Ted would stay up well into the early morning hours, viewing the stars through a refractor telescope. He even had made an impressive map of the constellations with specific stars marked on it. In school, he had excelled in math, science, and chemistry, and now he continued to have an unquenchable thirst for knowledge.

Ted couldn’t ask for any better friend than Charles. Ted, in turn, gave Ralph to Charles to use for research in his law practice and picking stocks that ended up making nice returns. Ralph had an uncanny knack for knowing when a stock was going to increase in value.

Charles knew a little about computers – after all, he used one in his law office – but he wasn’t knowledgeable on the intricacies of Ralph because Ralph was always learning new information. Ralph seemed to have an insatiable thirst for knowledge. No subject matter was too trivial or boring for Ralph – history, archeology, the solar system, all of this was fodder for Ralph’s curiosity. Ralph was probably the world’s greatest trivia expert. He had more knowledge than 10 law office computers put together. Sometimes Ralph could be annoying, like when he quizzed Charles on the most insignificant things. But Charles had to admit Ralph could put together a stock market analysis like nobody’s business or quote case law after case law. Charles realized even with his law degree he was no match for Ralph, who kept learning and never tired of the intricacies or details of things that interested him.

Of all his passions, however, Ralph’s main interest was chess. He loved to play chess and would play with anyone. Charles kidded that he would try to line up a match with a world champion chess player or maybe Deep Blue, the IBM computer. No person or machine was too much of a challenge for Ralph.

Modesty was not one of Ralph’s strong attributes. He wasn’t exactly arrogant, but he was like a boxer who was going into a match with superior technique and skills. Ted had designed Ralph so he could communicate through several different methods.

The video camera and headset would work for Ralph’s eyes and ears. Ralph also was set up with a video camera attached in Charles’ Porsche. Ted made sure Ralph could be taken anywhere through the use of a modified video camera. This made him portable. Any device that could communicate with the mainframe computer, which was at Charles’ apartment, would work. Another way Ralph would communicate with other electronic devices was with electronic waves transmitted to a satellite much the same way a cell phone works today. “So, how’s Ralph been?” asked Ted, who still liked to check in on his creation. Ralph found it insulting that Ted had asked Charles how he was doing, “I’m doing very well, thank you,” Ralph said.

Charles and Ted both laughed. “Yes, he’s doing excellent,” Charles said.

“That would be excellently,” corrected Ralph.

“He keeps me on my toes,” commented Charles. “By the way, do you need anything?”

“I don’t think so,” answered Ted. “Maybe I could play chess with Ralph.”

While Ralph and Ted exchanged moves – Ralph was winning as usual – Charles’ mind drifted to things other than pawns, bishops, kings, and queens. He began reflecting on his meeting at the diner with Samuel Jacobsen and his legal problem. In short, Jacobsen had done some major work for a firm called Cybertex and never got paid. Then Cybertex filed for bankruptcy and Samuel never saw a dime.

Samuel had about 200 people working for his contracting business. Because Cybertex never paid Samuel, he was having problems paying his employees. In turn, many of them were facing financial hardships. Building rental payments and utility bills were past due and Samuel had invested a lot in supplies. All of this put his contracting business in jeopardy. Samuel asked Charles to check on Cybertex and let him know if there was anything Charles could do to get any money from the bankrupt firm.

“Your turn,” said Ralph to Ted. Charles knew Ted was close to losing, but Ted wouldn’t care. He would simply ask for a rematch. Besides his concern for Samuel’s business, Charles had another legal issue he was working on. Several investors had called him looking for something they could use for a tax shelter. Charles checked some of the tax codes and found one that dealt with improving property in a community. The structure needed to be one that had previously housed a business but also had stood empty for at least 20 years. Charles had looked into several buildings – an old milk factory, a shoe warehouse, and even a four-story apartment complex. Nothing had panned out. Now he thought that maybe the old gym would qualify.

He could remodel the old gym and turn it into a community center. That would definitely improve the neighborhood and also give his clients a tax break. Charles felt he needed some clarification from the IRS before he proceeded. He knew just the man to call. Joe Bartling had been a practicing attorney before going to work with the IRS about five years ago. Tax codes were his expertise, and Joe could definitely give Charles some good advice.

Charles walked to the kitchen to use Ted’s phone to call Joe just as Ralph announced “checkmate” for the second time. The conversation with Joe was short, and he assured Charles it wouldn’t take long to check on the specific codes and see if they applied for the old gym. He would call Charles in a couple of days.

Walking back from the kitchen, Charles said, “Well, Ted, we need to be going. I guess Ralph got the best of you again.”

Ted just shrugged. He was used to losing to Ralph. Besides, Ralph was his creation.

Meeting the Boys

The idea of renovating the gym that included a community center was starting to take shape in Charles’ mind. He was so focused on it that he had neglected calling Julie. They didn’t really have a serious relationship, but they enjoyed each other’s company. Charles would call Julie for a show or for dinner, usually on weekends. She was a stockbroker and worked long hours. Julie enjoyed her independence, but she also liked to do things with Charles on the spur of the moment.

Julie was adventurous and Charles appreciated that. She worked many evenings, but on weekends she looked forward to getting away from work and having fun. Charles now called Julie at work and asked if she would like to go to DiAngelo’s on Saturday. DiAngelo’s was one of those upscale restaurants that had valet parking. Charles had done some tax work for DiAngelo’s and the owner reciprocated with exceptionally good service.

Charles checked his watch and saw that it was getting close to 5 p.m. He wanted to play some tennis at The Racquet Club. There was a group of eight businessmen who played doubles and each week switched partners. Charles grabbed his suit coat and headed out the door for the two-mile drive. At The Racquet Club, he got dressed and played a five-set match during the next hour and a half.

After showering, five of the eight men met at Capri, a nice sports bar. It was routine to meet for a beer or two after the tennis matches were completed. Usually, anywhere from three to seven showed up. After talking sports and politics and enjoying a couple rounds of beer, Charles excused himself and said it was time for him to head home.

Settling in after the 45-minute drive home, Ralph told Charles he had the financial report on the Cybertex company. Charles thanked Ralph and asked to be reminded in the morning to call Samuel Jacobsen. Knowing the answer, Charles then asked Ralph if he would like to play chess. Ralph projected the chessboard on his screen and asked if Charles wanted white or black. Charles took white and then told Ralph which pawn he wanted to move. After several more moves, Ralph had Charles in checkmate. Charles was really a pretty good chess player but could only beat Ralph when Ralph let him on purpose. After losing three games, Charles asked Ralph to put on some songs from the 60s. The sweet melodies lulled Charles to sleep on the couch. The Beach Boys had led him to a place of good dreams.

In the morning, Ralph woke Charles with a booming rendition of the 1812 Overture. Charles shoved a pillow over his head, but that did little to muffle the loud music. Ralph had also started the coffeemaker and Charles could smell the rich aroma as he was waking up. Charles dressed and had toast and a cup of coffee before driving the Porsche to work. He also downed a grape pop. Even as an adult, he had a thing for the sweet beverage. In his mind, there were few things that tasted as good.

At work, Charles checked his messages; he needed to call two clients. Also, Ralph had reminded him to call Samuel Jacobsen. Charles first called the clients and then Samuel. Charles told Samuel that he was still working on his financial problem and would keep in touch. Then he asked Samuel the question that was really on his mind. Could he help with renovations on the old gym? Charles gave Samuel the address of the gym, which was 99th and Palmer. Samuel said he knew the location and would go down and take a look at the building. He seemed intrigued and Charles was hopeful that this project could bring some income to Samuel.

Charles entered the information on his computer that Ralph had looked up on Cybertex. This was a company that had indeed filed bankruptcy, but its subsidiary companies were doing quite well. Ralph had done his homework on this assignment. He had obtained credit reports on Cybertex and all of its subsidiary companies. How could Cybertex be having serious financial problems while its subsidiary companies were doing so well? Cybertex had been expanding until about six months ago when it had a serious cash flow problem. Something didn’t seem quite right here. However, Charles had no way of knowing what was going on, especially when the numbers looked so good. He could tell he would have to do some more digging on the financial report that Ralph had produced.

As Charles continued working, Ralph played some classical music and said he had purchased some stocks. Ralph felt his selections would do well in the future. Charles knew better than to ask why Ralph picked the stocks that he did. Daily, Ralph searched databases to become informed about dividends, capital expansion, business competition, management styles, and growth cycles. Charles figured Ralph knew what he was doing. Plus, he didn’t have to pay a stockbroker’s commission because Ralph worked for free. Charles told Ralph that he couldn’t find a better stockbroker if he tried, except maybe Julie.

Now was a good time to break for lunch. As he was pulling up to the diner, Charles noticed the boys who had been there when he and Samuel had had lunch. The boys were dribbling a basketball up and down the sidewalk. He pulled up and got out of the car. As Charles was heading up the steps to the diner, Ralph opened the sunroof of the Porsche and began talking with the boys. Charles could tell that the boys liked talking to Ralph. As he opened the glass door to the diner, Charles heard Ralph playing rap music for the boys who were laughing and doing some dance moves. Charles smiled and entered the diner.

Although Charles was the only white person in the diner, he felt comfortable being here. He chose a shiny red booth and sat down. He decided to order the special barbecue ribs and they were delicious.

He finished his meal, left a generous tip for the waitress, and walked to the cash register. Making change from a $10 bill, the waitress asked his name.

“Charles.”

“My name’s Maxine,” she said, wiping her hands on her apron. “What do you do for a living?”

“I’m an attorney.”

“May I ask who’s the man you were with earlier?”

“That’s Samuel Jacobsen. We’re working on a project together.”

“Well, come back soon,” Maxine said as Charles headed toward the door.

“I will.”

When he got to the bottom of the diner steps, Charles could see the boys were still hanging around Ralph. Charles asked where they played basketball, and the tallest boy said the old gym at 99th Street. Charles told Ralph to turn down the rap music and asked if they would like to meet at the gym. While driving, he told Ralph to keep alert for anything unusual.

When he pulled up to the gym, Charles focused on the old rusted basketball hoop with its torn strings for a net. He got out and looked around. If he could get the investors interested in this project, it would really improve the neighborhood. He could envision this as once again being a building that offered both children and adults a place to go for a variety of activities.

Just then the boys rode up on their bicycles. As they walked toward Charles, he really noticed how they were dressed – baggy pants, big tennis shoes, and faded T-shirts. The tallest boy asked if Charles wanted to play in a pickup game. Charles knew he couldn’t match up to their youthful energy, but he thought he would give it a go.

“I’m Charles,” he said, extending his hand as a way of introduction. “And you are?”

The first to respond was Jeremy, the tallest boy. “I’m Jeremy, and that’s Wayne, Toby, Michael, Stephen, Spencer, and Dorrial.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Charles replied.

They chose sides and Charles was the last one picked. Once again there was a flashback to his childhood days when he usually was the last boy chosen. It really hurt then, but now it didn’t matter.

Charles’ team of Wayne, Toby, and Jeremy took possession first. Dorrial, Michael, Stephen, and Spencer formed the other team. Wayne passed to Charles and he dribbled a few times before throwing to Jeremy. Faking like he was going to pass outside to Toby, Jeremy then turned around and dribbled in for a layup. His team had scored first and Charles responded to Jeremy, “Nice move.”

Charles had to remember to keep his head in the game because Dorrial dribbled quickly around him for an easy layup. These boys were fast. Stepping behind the basket, Charles picked up the ball and threw to Toby. He dribbled down the left side of the old court and then held up for Wayne who was breaking across the center. Wayne took the pass, stopped, and went up for a short jumper. The ball banked off the old backboard and made a clanking sound as it came straight down through the tattered net.

The asphalt was cracked and pretty busted up in some places, and it definitely had seen better playing days. Weeds had crept up through the cracks and then quickly had wilted in the heat. The chain link fence surrounding the basketball court was leaning in places, but it still defined the playing area.

The two teams exchanged baskets and groans of “How did you miss that one?” After about 45 minutes of playing, they were getting thirsty. A water fountain by the gym’s front doors actually still worked. The boys knew the first in line would turn the handle and let the water arch into the basin until the water ran clear and cold. They all took a few gulps, and then Dorrial looked at Charles. He asked what they all had been wondering.

“So, why are you so interested in this old gym?”

“I’m thinking about buying it,” Charles responded, “and maybe turning it into a community center.”

“But we’ll still be able to play basketball here, right?” asked Dorrial.

“Sure. I’m going to remodel the gym and maybe add a swimming pool.”

“A swimming pool?” echoed Wayne, clearly surprised.

They had been sitting under an oak tree that was older than the gym. Its stately presence was a testament to survival. Even though the old gym had not survived, maybe now there was hope for being a center of activity again.

Wayne was the first to stand up. They talked about renewing play, but Charles was still leaning against the oak tree. He was thinking tennis kept him in shape, but a tennis match against another 40-year-old man didn’t come close to trying to keep up with these 15- and 16-year-old boys.

“Why don’t we get some pop,” suggested Charles. He would buy. No one objected and the boys ran toward their bikes.

“See you in a few at the diner,” Charles said, walking towards his Porsche. When Charles pulled up to the diner and started to get out, Ralph popped the sunroof open. Charles told him not to play any more music and Ralph reluctantly agreed. Ralph started talking to the boys as they pulled up a few minutes later on their bikes. The boys wanted to hear some soul music. Since Charles was already inside the diner, Ralph thought maybe a few bars of James Brown would entertain the boys. After the first line of “I Feel Good” started blaring, Charles looked out the window and shook his head at Ralph.

Ralph quickly shut off James Brown and the boys walked toward the diner. Once inside, Charles ordered pop for everyone. As they waited for the drinks, all the boys were looking at Charles.

“So, why do you want to buy the gym – I mean turn it into a community center?” Wayne asked.

Maxine placed the bottles of pop in the center of their table and Charles waited a few minutes before he responded. “Well, I have a few reasons why it would be good. It could help out a lot of people.”

After taking a big gulf of his grape soda, Dorrial asked, “How?”

“I’m a tax attorney and some of my clients are looking for a tax break. I also think this neighborhood could use a safe place where kids could hang out. The third thing is I love basketball.” Charles was turning the cool bottle in his hand. He knew kids like these boys would really enjoy playing in a decent gym. He was thinking of all that practice, all those layups, and still not making the team.

Charles turned the conversation away from himself. The boys told him they mostly played ball and went to school.

“So, how’s school going, then?” Charles asked.

“Not so good” seemed to be the general consensus.

Charles said maybe Ralph could help get their grades up.

“Ralph?” asked Wayne skeptically.

“Yes,” answered Charles. “Ralph’s pretty smart. He can help you. He knows just about everything on any subject.”

The boys liked the idea of Ralph being a tutor. Charles asked how he could get in touch with them. As he wrote their names on a napkin, Dorrial also gave his phone number. The boys said they had to leave because it was getting close to their dinnertime. Charles said he would see them later. Before he left Charles ordered a piece of key lime pie with a dollop of fresh whipped cream.

As soon as Maxine brought his pie, Officers Lauritsen and Murphy walked into the diner. Charles nodded at them and asked if he could buy them a cup of coffee and pie. They sat down at the booth with Charles and asked what was new. He replied he was hoping to purchase the old gym and turn it into a community center. They smiled and said it would be great to see activity again in the old building. Charles returned a smile and said he was glad they didn’t think it was a crazy idea.

Maxine brought a pot of coffee and two more slices of pie. Charles told the officers he was meeting regularly at the diner with Samuel Jacobsen, the contractor. Murphy said he knew Jacobsen and believed the contractor had a good reputation for doing quality work.

Lauritsen again reminded Charles to be careful in the neighborhood. Charles said he had Ralph to do that and that was the perfect opening for Murphy to grill Charles about Ralph. After about 40 minutes, Lauritsen interjected, “You know, my father played in that gym as a kid.”

Nodding, Charles said, “The gym is full of history.” Those names etched on the shower stalls flashed in his mind – Wee Willie Smith, Charles “Tarzan” Cooper, Clarence “Fats” Jenkins.

Lauritsen continued, “I thought the city was going to condemn the building since it had deteriorated so much, and that seemed a shame. My father said that in the early 40s professional teams played there.”

Charles wondered which teams, but Lauritsen had no idea. This was a question for Ralph. A puzzle. Who were “Tarzan” and “Fats” and the others? Charles felt his face redden as he remembered the officers approaching him at the gym with the jersey stuffed up his shirt.

“Well, I’ll see it when I believe it,” said Lauritsen, who obviously was the more skeptical of the two. “By the way, your new friends are in trouble for stealing a car.”

Charles’ thoughts were now on the boys and that pickup game of basketball.

“I just played ball with them,” Charles said, “and they didn’t mention anything about that.”

“Why would they?” answered Murphy.

“I’ll see what I can find out the next time I see them,” promised Charles.

Murphy shook his head and said they had a call they had to check out and would probably see Charles later. Charles asked Maxine for the pie and coffee tab. When he got into his car, Charles requested Ralph to play some 60s tunes. Ralph suggested the Beach Boys and immediately “California Girls” was reverberating throughout the Porsche. After Charles finished singing along with “I wish they all could be California girls,” Ralph told his boss he needed to call Julie and Samuel Jacobsen.

Ralph’s Research: The Rens

There were plenty of uses for Ralph. He was savvy and plucky, obviously smart, and could quickly complete any given task. Since Charles liked history and basketball, it was fortunate that Ralph was programmed with those interests.

“Ralph, I’ve got some names for you to look up,” said Charles, thinking about the names on the shower stall. “Let’s see, there’s Wee Willie Smith, Bill Yancey, Eyre ‘Bruiser’ Saitch, Clarence ‘Fats’ Jenkins, and Charles ‘Tarzan’ Cooper.” Charles didn’t have a great memory, except when it came to basketball.

“OK, boss, will do,” said Ralph, whose motor was already running on overload trying to crank out information on the names.

In a few minutes, Ralph printed a sheet. “You’re talking about two early basketball teams,” said Ralph, clearly proud of himself and the work he presented. “Boss, these are players for the early Celtics and a team called the Rens. I’ve organized it for you. Just take a look.”

The Rens (A Paper Researched and Written by Ralph)

The year was 1930 and there was a new kid on the block. The kid was an all-black team called the Rens. The Rens’ basketball team was the idea of Robert (Bob) Douglas, a West Indies immigrant who coached an amateur basketball team in New York called the Spartan Braves.

Douglas was trying to find a home for his team when he met William Roche, the owner of the Renaissance Casino and a Caribbean immigrant.

Located between 137th and 138th Streets in New York City, the casino was a two-story red, brick building and a hotspot for dancing and listening to music. Roche suggested that the team use the second floor ballroom for its home court and practice center in exchange for giving the casino publicity.

This was a common arrangement – basketball teams frequently played in dancing halls or bars. It may seem peculiar now that teams would play in such slippery, awkward places, but that was just how it was in the early days of basketball. Douglas decided to call his team the Renaissance.

The Renaissance Casino was in its zenith from 1915 to the 1960s. The first floor of the casino housed an event center for regular meetings of Harlem social clubs, charities, and unions. Notable social clubs using the facility included The Brotherhood of Sleeping Car Porters, Harlem Dukes, and The Dominican Benevolent Society.

The ballroom on the second floor was home for the orchestra led by bandleader Verno Andrade. His orchestra members included world-famous Louis Armstrong, Louis Metcalf, Happy Caldwell, Al Morgan, and Zetty Singleton. There were other jazz bands and orchestras that had short engagements at this elegant entertainment venue. Some of the more famous bands were Fletcher Henderson, Louis Armstrong, and Elmer Snowdan.

In the 1990s, the Renaissance Casino had deteriorated; however, it was identified as one of 25 buildings that the New York Landmarks Preservations Commission determined should have landmark protection status.

Douglas had to secure portable baskets to put on the dance floor. One was positioned right in front of the bandstand. Rows of folding chairs were lined up for the sidelines. The floor was slick, making it hard for players to cut.

“It was twofold: People came to see the team and came to dance,” said John Isaacs, who played with the Rens from 1936-41. Isaacs roomed on the road with Hall of Famer William “Pop” Gates, one of the nation’s finest all-around players. “Once the game was over, people stayed. It was like, ‘Let’s go back to dancing.’”

Gates remembered the playing conditions: “It was a very slippery floor. They had baskets they put up before every ball game and markers they put down for the foul lines and so forth. The spectators were seated at tables in rows on the second floor and in boxes in the third tier. That was supposed to be an elite area. The ballroom had a high ceiling, so you didn’t have to worry about your shots. All you had to worry about was running into that hard wooden barrier around the floor because it had sharp edges. Sometimes when the game got rough, the guys would be flying over the barrier into people’s laps.”

John O’Brien Jr. played at the Renaissance Casino many times with the Brooklyn Visitations. “The fans were the wealthiest black people in Harlem, dressed, believe it or not in tuxedos. A good-looking crowd – handsome women, good-looking guys – and they loved the basketball game, but they loved to get the game over for dancing afterward.”

The Rens had a busy schedule. They played 120 games a year or more, usually playing one game a day and twice on Sundays. In order to meet their payroll and expenses, they had to play that much. The Rens weren’t picky and played all teams – semipro, black colleges, and other professional teams including the Celtics. They usually won.

They had a formidable lineup of players including Frank Forbes, Clarence “Fats” Jenkins, Leon Monde, Wee Willie Smith, Chuck “Tarzan” Cooper, Bill Yancey, Eyre “Bruiser” Saitch, John Holt, and James “Pappy” Ricks. All were outstanding athletes.

Jenkins was considered the fastest man in basketball. “Fats” actually wasn’t fat at all. He was muscular and one of the shortest players on the team. At 5’7”, he could run around anyone and was elected Rens’ team captain. He had played as an amateur on the Saint Christopher’s Club that won the Colored World Championship title in 1914 and also from 1917-19.

When Jenkins went pro, he first played for the New York Incorporators. He then played on the Loendi Big Five, the team that won the Colored World Championship, from 1920-23.

He also brought his remarkable skills to the Commonwealth Big Five Team, the team that won the Colored World Championship in 1924, before joining the Rens.

Charles “Tarzan” Cooper was another fine athlete. Superb at rebounding, Cooper would start the fast break after getting the ball.

Joe Lapchick of the Celtics especially admired Cooper, claiming he was “the greatest center that ever played the game.”

Wee Willie Smith and Cooper controlled the inside of the court, while the other players were excellent outside shooters and ball handlers.

The games between the Rens and the Celtics were extraordinarily popular and would bring in as many as 15,000 fans. The Rens’ road secretary, Eric Illidge, brought a tabulator to each game and counted the fans because the Rens’ share of the ticket money was calculated by how many paying fans were in attendance. Most of the games progressed pretty smoothly, but there were at least five games where race riots occurred.

“Race riots?” interjected Charles, who had been engrossed in hearing about this era of basketball history.

“Yeah,” answered Ralph, “let me go on.”

During a game the Rens were playing in Akron, Ohio, Wee Willie Smith got into a skirmish with a white player. The crowd got so enraged, the fans attacked Smith and his teammates. The Rens got into a circle and fought off the mob. Luckily someone turned the light switch off, ending the brawl. The police escorted the Rens out of town.

Off the court wasn’t much better. Richard Lapchick, whose father was Joe Lapchick, the center for the Celtics, made this comment about Joe and Bob Douglas’ friendship: “My father used to ask Bobby out for drinks all the time after games and Bobby would say, ‘No, no, no.’ Finally, he realized why Bobby was saying no, when in 1926 he and Bobby had a conversation and Bobby said, ‘You‘ve got to understand, Joe, the places that you want to take me to, I’m not welcome. And I don’t want to go in there and face the icy stare of racist white men.’”

Because of the discrimination, the Rens had their own custom-built $10,000 bus. The Rens, hungry and tired after traveling for several hours following a game, would stop in front of a restaurant. The players would get off and walk toward the restaurant door. Before they could enter, an owner would often growl, “Waddya want?” The players would say they were hungry. The owner would reply, “We don’t serve colored folks.”

Because they heard this response so many times, they would just head back to the bus without getting emotionally upset. Sometimes, they drove all night searching for a place to eat. Since most hotels wouldn’t accommodate them, they would have to sleep on the bus.

The team members were spat upon by some fans, insulted by others, and they often slept on cold floors and dined on cold-cut sandwiches in the bus.

“Sometimes you would sit at a restaurant counter, leafing through the menu,” said player John Isaacs, “and you didn’t see the man coming from behind the counter. And he sees you and walks to the wall and grabs his rifle and says, ‘Get out of here.’ You didn’t have any choice but to leave.”

In 1925, the American Basketball League (ABL) refused the Rens’ membership in the league. The Celtics in protest refused to join the ABL. William Yancey, who had played on top black baseball teams during the 1920s and 1930s, and also played for the Rens, stated: “When I was playing for the Renaissance in basketball, sometimes we used to get treated something awful. We’d go in town and couldn’t get any food, and then they’d expect us to make ‘em look good! In baseball we didn’t get bothered too much except in the South. In the North, we never had any problems, not that you’d notice. Because the white ballplayers thought it was an honor to play us. Oh, we used to have problems getting food in the North. The restaurants didn’t want to serve us. That was general in the North, but we never had too far to ride. If we were going from New York to Philadelphia, how long is that going to take? And if you were going to Pittsburgh, you could stop at Harrisburg. There’s always ways.

“Our biggest problem was when we were on the road all the time, like when I was playing basketball. I’ll never forget the time we went into West Virginia for the first time and there was no motel at all where we could go. It took us maybe a couple of hours to find lodging for eight or nine fellas – one stay here, two stay here, like that.”

White players, both off and on the court, thought highly of the Rens’ players. Frank Baird, who played for a strong Midwest team, the Indianapolis Kautskys, stated: “I was very sympathetic. When the Renaissance came in, they had to stay at the colored YMCA at Sennett and Michigan. We’d go with them and play around the state. There was no place they could get anything to eat, so they brown-bagged it. We’d get to the gym at 6:30 for an 8 o’clock game, and they’d be down in the locker room already dressed and having a sandwich or something. Maybe they’d save part of it and eat on the way back to Indianapolis. I thought that was one of the most unfair things. They were nice guys and they were tough. I’m pretty sure over the years they beat us more than we beat them.”

Honey Russell, who was a star player with the Cleveland Rosenblums and later with the Chicago Bruins, stated, “They were one of the cleanest teams that played the game.”

In 1939, the Rens defeated another up-and-coming black team, the Harlem Globetrotters, and the Oshkosh All-Stars in the World Tournament held in Chicago.

Their records were outstanding. In 1933, they won 88 straight games before being defeated by the Celtics. In 1939, their record was 112-7. Their overall record was 2,588 wins and 529 losses.

John Wooden, a player with the Whiting All-Americans and later renown coach at UCLA, stated, “To this day I have never seen a team play better team basketball.”

When faced with so many problems, how did the Rens keep going?

Eric Illidge, the Rens’ road secretary, said, “We would not let anyone deny us our right to make a living.”