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Heaven Is a Playground
In 1974 Rick Telander intended to spend a few days doing a magazine piece on the court wizards of Brooklyn’s Foster Park. He ended up staying the entire summer, becoming part of the players’ lives, and eventually the coach of a loose aggregation known as the Subway Stars. Telander tells of everything he the on-court flash, the off-court jargon, the late-night graffiti raids, the tireless efforts of one promoter-hustler-benefactor to get these kids a chance at a college education. He lets the kids speak for themselves, revealing their grand dreams and ambitions, but he never flinches from showing us how far their dreams are from reality. The roots of today’s inner-city basketball can be traced to the world Telander presents in Heaven Is a Playground , the first book of its kind.
224 pages, Paperback
First published January 1, 1976
51 people are currently reading
1841 people want to read
About the author
Rick Telander
27 books18 followers Happy to be an author. Happier to have readers! Let me know if you'd like me to talk about anything from my books. I think I remember most of them. (joke)
I went to Richwoods High School in Peoria, got a football scholarship to Northwestern University, and started writing for money (mere pittance) after graduation in 1971.
If you need to know more, let me know. I can go on and on. PS-- I once scored 108 points in a men's league game in Bridgeport, Chicago. Six-foot and under league (I'm, a little over 6-1), four-on-four, gym (McGuane Park) so tiny you had to put your foot against the wall to take the ball out. Henry's Bait Shop (us) vs. Seemo's Schnozzles (all short and mostly drunk). Scorer ran out of room in book. FYI.
I went to Richwoods High School in Peoria, got a football scholarship to Northwestern University, and started writing for money (mere pittance) after graduation in 1971.
If you need to know more, let me know. I can go on and on. PS-- I once scored 108 points in a men's league game in Bridgeport, Chicago. Six-foot and under league (I'm, a little over 6-1), four-on-four, gym (McGuane Park) so tiny you had to put your foot against the wall to take the ball out. Henry's Bait Shop (us) vs. Seemo's Schnozzles (all short and mostly drunk). Scorer ran out of room in book. FYI.
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 83 reviews
June 19, 2013
This book is a classic for a reason. Telander masterfully unfolds how the culture of basketball functions on and around the courts of Brooklyn during the early 1970s. We meet kids who dream of getting out of the inner-city via basketball scholarships. We meet kids who have left to play in college and simply can't function and so they return. We learn about one of the biggest stars of the street ball scene (Fly Williams) and how self-destructive his impulses can be.
One of the more fascinating story lines is that of a 14-year-old prodigy (Albert King, Bernard King's younger brother) and how he tries to navigate his fame. He is courted to leave the city and play in Pennsylvania at a prep school. He and his family will be compensated by local businessmen associated with the school but he struggles with leaving the only neighborhood he has ever known.
Connecting all the stories is Rodney Parker, the man that works tirelessly as a talent evaluator and scout of the inner-city. He is the connection between coaches at every level of college basketball and the poverty-stricken prospects that run the courts everyday at Foster Park. Parker is so fascinating because, while he could be "delivering" players to programs for cash, he seems to do what he does for the mere status it brings him amongst the young players.
Telander deftly inserts many of the character's own comments about poverty, violence and education. This is an excellent read and I highly recommend, even for those aren't basketball fans.
One of the more fascinating story lines is that of a 14-year-old prodigy (Albert King, Bernard King's younger brother) and how he tries to navigate his fame. He is courted to leave the city and play in Pennsylvania at a prep school. He and his family will be compensated by local businessmen associated with the school but he struggles with leaving the only neighborhood he has ever known.
Connecting all the stories is Rodney Parker, the man that works tirelessly as a talent evaluator and scout of the inner-city. He is the connection between coaches at every level of college basketball and the poverty-stricken prospects that run the courts everyday at Foster Park. Parker is so fascinating because, while he could be "delivering" players to programs for cash, he seems to do what he does for the mere status it brings him amongst the young players.
Telander deftly inserts many of the character's own comments about poverty, violence and education. This is an excellent read and I highly recommend, even for those aren't basketball fans.
April 22, 2023
Very well-written and enjoyable. Telander does a wonderful job of setting the scene to tell stories that are funny, inspiring, and heartbreaking. Everything takes place in a different era and a different world than I know but does not feel unfamiliar.
February 21, 2024
Really enjoyed this one, this book covers inner city Brooklyn basketball for a summer in the 70s. Insightful in showing the love of basketball and the many roadblocks in achieving their dreams.
November 8, 2018
Telander states in the most recent preface that the book itself can sometimes read as dated but that he has chosen not to edit or change the language. In many ways I think that was a beautiful decision. It leaves the book as a bit of a relic - white educated America trying to understand black urban Brooklyn. It illuminates the way that the old guard talks about basketball and race. It actually lays prejudices at the forefront even if it does so unknowingly. In many ways I think it was a good decision to preserve a history.
The book itself is ostensibly about basketball and a bunch of kids on a playground in Brooklyn. Deeper, it is much more. It is a sketch of a man who works tirelessly to give kids opportunities without thinking anything of a reward (financial rewards at least). It is a contrast between two exceptionally skilled players with different demeanors who would trace very different arcs through the basketball world. It is a sociological study of the effects of poverty in young black men, gentrification and impoverishment in neighborhoods, and the central role of basketball as a cultural and uniting element of a neighborhood. At its heart, the book shows why heaven is a playground. It develops a strong case for the role of nostalgia as a coping mechanism, the beauty of a sport and its transcendence - as a means of escape physically and financially, emotionally and psychologically, and as a connector socially.
The book itself is ostensibly about basketball and a bunch of kids on a playground in Brooklyn. Deeper, it is much more. It is a sketch of a man who works tirelessly to give kids opportunities without thinking anything of a reward (financial rewards at least). It is a contrast between two exceptionally skilled players with different demeanors who would trace very different arcs through the basketball world. It is a sociological study of the effects of poverty in young black men, gentrification and impoverishment in neighborhoods, and the central role of basketball as a cultural and uniting element of a neighborhood. At its heart, the book shows why heaven is a playground. It develops a strong case for the role of nostalgia as a coping mechanism, the beauty of a sport and its transcendence - as a means of escape physically and financially, emotionally and psychologically, and as a connector socially.
April 19, 2021
A book basketball junkies will surely enjoy. This is NYC playground hoops. A white SI reporter spends the summer sleeping on the floor of a neighborhood apartment while hanging out at Foster Park in the Flatbush section of Brooklyn. There he befriends a local talent scout who relishes getting inner city kids full ride tickets to prep schools and colleges. The locals described provide rich neighborhood chatter as they spend their days hooping and hanging out. Focuses on 2 stars: Fly Williams and Albert King, who represent the highs and lows of basketball life. Telander has written the ultimate street hoops tale.
August 17, 2021
I am a bit between 3 and 4 stars on the book, so I'll round up. The book gives a view into the 1970s NYC ghetto, and how there were (are) so few options for kids growing up in that environment - basketball or drugs/crime. The book itself did not have a specific plot but instead captured a variety real and raw experiences Rick had during his summer there or that he heard second hand from the people he met.
The book goes in and out of past and present tense, which can be a little hard to follow, but I think adds to the overall experience of feeling like you're living it with the author. The things in present tense are happening during the summer, past tense are the things he is explaining to give context.
In all, I think the book feels like a snapshot in time, a picture capturing moments and essences that normally flow into the present and ebb right back out again without anyone noticing or caring. You feel like you're there. You feel the hopelessness of the area that leads to the feeling that basketball is everything and that there's no promise in tomorrow so you might as well live however you want today. It's a sad book when you're used to a world of opportunity, but I don't think most of the characters in the book would agree with that assessment, to them, it's just life and the hand of cards they were dealt.
The book goes in and out of past and present tense, which can be a little hard to follow, but I think adds to the overall experience of feeling like you're living it with the author. The things in present tense are happening during the summer, past tense are the things he is explaining to give context.
In all, I think the book feels like a snapshot in time, a picture capturing moments and essences that normally flow into the present and ebb right back out again without anyone noticing or caring. You feel like you're there. You feel the hopelessness of the area that leads to the feeling that basketball is everything and that there's no promise in tomorrow so you might as well live however you want today. It's a sad book when you're used to a world of opportunity, but I don't think most of the characters in the book would agree with that assessment, to them, it's just life and the hand of cards they were dealt.
March 7, 2014
An Eye-Opening inside Look: Heaven is a Playground
5 out of 5 stars
Imagine yourself in a basketball game, or whatever sport you love; that rush of adrenaline, the excitement of competition and the amazing feeling you get when you make a good play. Although it may be hard to believe, those who play basketball in the inner-city feel the same way. Heaven is a Playground gives a never-before-seen inside look at the purity of basketball, even in one of the most beleaguered places on Earth. This book captures not only the spirit of the game, but also vividly recreates the mid-70s and Brooklyn
When he wrote the book in 1974, Rick Telander was in his 20s when he went to Brooklyn to spend a summer, in part because he was in search of the elusive playground legend James "Fly" Williams, who figures prominently in the book. During the course of the three months he stayed there, he met, played with, interviewed and befriended a host of regulars at the courts in Foster Park in the Flatbush section of Brooklyn. At the park, African-American boys and men played basketball for something far more special than just recreation. On the surface, some seemed to play as a cop-out of daily life, or in Rodney Parker’s case, a way to make money ticket-scalping. Telander states, “Who, I asked, was Rodney Parker? Basically he was a thirty-six-year-old black, self-educated ticket scalper-street hustler who spent most of his time scouting young playground stars,” (Telander 3). However, for Rodney, along with many of the “street-ballers”, the game found a spot in their hearts as a way of life, and even more importantly a form of self-expression.
Besides Williams and Parker, Telander also met Albert King, then an astonishingly gifted 14-year-old, with promise to go on to the NBA. King, with his exceptional talents, succeeded in his task to make it to the NBA, and he went on to have a successful career. On one hand, Telander brings to life the court skills of King and others, but he also humanizes them, and this humanization earns most of the commendation of the book. One example of the side effects of talent showed when Albert King agonized over his talent, which brought him attention and exaltation that embarrassed him and sometimes made him angry and withdrawn. Also, Williams' incredible pure talent remained married to an unpredictable and sometimes violent temperament that ultimately shortened his career. These examples alone show the harms to having unbelievable talent paired with psychological problems.
Despite an obvious empathy for his subjects (he wound up coaching a group of teenage park regulars, with mixed on-the-court success) Telander does not romanticize them. Flatbush, Bedford-Stuyvesant and Brownsville, where the action of the book primarily takes place, were seen by the world as some of the worst neighborhoods in the world. Many of the people Telander spent extensive time with were scarred by their environment, and he positions the environment they lived in directly in front. Though the book avoids a sense of "white guilt," Telander does agonize at one point over a boy he left off his team who succumbed to drug use and was later killed.
I hope to see a sequel to Heaven is a Playground, a sort of “Where are they now?” update on the scene. Even if Telander failed to find any of the former characters, I would love to see how the blacktop basketball atmosphere has changed over the thirty years this book has been released for. The world has changed dramatically since then, and I assume the described scene has also evolved. At times funny, often poignant, and filled with a love for its subject, "Heaven Is a Playground" remains an engrossing, and still timely, read nearly 30 years after its publication.
5 out of 5 stars
Imagine yourself in a basketball game, or whatever sport you love; that rush of adrenaline, the excitement of competition and the amazing feeling you get when you make a good play. Although it may be hard to believe, those who play basketball in the inner-city feel the same way. Heaven is a Playground gives a never-before-seen inside look at the purity of basketball, even in one of the most beleaguered places on Earth. This book captures not only the spirit of the game, but also vividly recreates the mid-70s and Brooklyn
When he wrote the book in 1974, Rick Telander was in his 20s when he went to Brooklyn to spend a summer, in part because he was in search of the elusive playground legend James "Fly" Williams, who figures prominently in the book. During the course of the three months he stayed there, he met, played with, interviewed and befriended a host of regulars at the courts in Foster Park in the Flatbush section of Brooklyn. At the park, African-American boys and men played basketball for something far more special than just recreation. On the surface, some seemed to play as a cop-out of daily life, or in Rodney Parker’s case, a way to make money ticket-scalping. Telander states, “Who, I asked, was Rodney Parker? Basically he was a thirty-six-year-old black, self-educated ticket scalper-street hustler who spent most of his time scouting young playground stars,” (Telander 3). However, for Rodney, along with many of the “street-ballers”, the game found a spot in their hearts as a way of life, and even more importantly a form of self-expression.
Besides Williams and Parker, Telander also met Albert King, then an astonishingly gifted 14-year-old, with promise to go on to the NBA. King, with his exceptional talents, succeeded in his task to make it to the NBA, and he went on to have a successful career. On one hand, Telander brings to life the court skills of King and others, but he also humanizes them, and this humanization earns most of the commendation of the book. One example of the side effects of talent showed when Albert King agonized over his talent, which brought him attention and exaltation that embarrassed him and sometimes made him angry and withdrawn. Also, Williams' incredible pure talent remained married to an unpredictable and sometimes violent temperament that ultimately shortened his career. These examples alone show the harms to having unbelievable talent paired with psychological problems.
Despite an obvious empathy for his subjects (he wound up coaching a group of teenage park regulars, with mixed on-the-court success) Telander does not romanticize them. Flatbush, Bedford-Stuyvesant and Brownsville, where the action of the book primarily takes place, were seen by the world as some of the worst neighborhoods in the world. Many of the people Telander spent extensive time with were scarred by their environment, and he positions the environment they lived in directly in front. Though the book avoids a sense of "white guilt," Telander does agonize at one point over a boy he left off his team who succumbed to drug use and was later killed.
I hope to see a sequel to Heaven is a Playground, a sort of “Where are they now?” update on the scene. Even if Telander failed to find any of the former characters, I would love to see how the blacktop basketball atmosphere has changed over the thirty years this book has been released for. The world has changed dramatically since then, and I assume the described scene has also evolved. At times funny, often poignant, and filled with a love for its subject, "Heaven Is a Playground" remains an engrossing, and still timely, read nearly 30 years after its publication.
September 1, 2014
Afros, tubesocks, Pro Keds, finger rolls, stuff shots, the ABA, and Kool and the Gang are all the rage among the basketball youths of the inner-city in Heaven is a Playground. Set in Brooklyn during the summer of 1974, Rick Telander spends a tumultuous off-season logging the stories of the project playgrounds. In particular, the book revolves around self-styled basketball agent Rodney Parker, troubled superstar "Fly" Williams, middle-school phenom Albert King, and the various Foster Park youths, all of whom share the same hoopz-driven ghetto universe.
Rodney in particular remains a a fascinating enigma all throughout, and serves roughly as the focal point from which all the other threads run through. A ticket scalper by trade, he earns substantial notoriety in the college basketball realm, finding would-be diamonds in the rough and offering (often pushing) them to various programs across the country. Meanwhile, in the world of Foster Park (and Brooklyn, in a sense) he holds a certain amount of respect as a man who can give desperate basketball hopefuls a chance (oftentimes a last chance) at college education and possibly a path towards playing professionally. For his part, Rodney is a shameless self-promoter, nakedly basking in the status he's built for himself, forever bragging of the good he's done for various players, lording over the teens he openly taunts as not good enough to make an effort to help, and ingratiating himself to any talented player he feels could make it.
Enter Fly, Rodney's most popular (and potentially lucrative) find. Fly posses a world of talent, is beloved in the Brownsville projects from which he hails, but is notoriously unstable to the point that he is blacklisted by all but the most desperate college programs and professional teams. Fly's antics and self-destructive behavior cost him opportunity after opportunity at lucrative contracts and a bigger spotlight, seemingly content with being a big fish in a small basketball pond.
Indeed, the little fish at Foster Park idolize Fly. He represents a defiant and flashy hero who grew up in their backyard. His name is written in graffiti all throughout his stomping grounds. Kids practice his moves and emulate his knack for chaos. All except for serious-minded and heavily-hyped Albert King, the impossibly-talented 6'5" 14 year-old, whom Rodney Parker openly covets and recruits.
The youths at Foster Park alternate from endearing to inspiring to tragic. If you've seen season 4 of The Wire, then you're already familiar with some of these characters, as some seem to be direct inspirations, and have similar uplifting and heartbreaking stories.
HIAP is uneven in that the narrative jumps around, giving a scattered impression here and there without letting momentum develop in any direction. This is much less of a problem in the second half, when Telander gets better at controlling the pace of each part so that they all parallel and overlap in rewarding ways as a whole, especially towards the end (the Subway Stars arc is particularly wonderful). I could also do without the thankfully rare moments where he slips out of reporter mode and into his personal thoughts, telling instead of showing. This is particularly a problem in the introduction; I recommend skipping it and going straight to chapter one. But more to the point, I urge you to read this book at all if you fancy yourself a hoopz geek.
Rodney in particular remains a a fascinating enigma all throughout, and serves roughly as the focal point from which all the other threads run through. A ticket scalper by trade, he earns substantial notoriety in the college basketball realm, finding would-be diamonds in the rough and offering (often pushing) them to various programs across the country. Meanwhile, in the world of Foster Park (and Brooklyn, in a sense) he holds a certain amount of respect as a man who can give desperate basketball hopefuls a chance (oftentimes a last chance) at college education and possibly a path towards playing professionally. For his part, Rodney is a shameless self-promoter, nakedly basking in the status he's built for himself, forever bragging of the good he's done for various players, lording over the teens he openly taunts as not good enough to make an effort to help, and ingratiating himself to any talented player he feels could make it.
Enter Fly, Rodney's most popular (and potentially lucrative) find. Fly posses a world of talent, is beloved in the Brownsville projects from which he hails, but is notoriously unstable to the point that he is blacklisted by all but the most desperate college programs and professional teams. Fly's antics and self-destructive behavior cost him opportunity after opportunity at lucrative contracts and a bigger spotlight, seemingly content with being a big fish in a small basketball pond.
Indeed, the little fish at Foster Park idolize Fly. He represents a defiant and flashy hero who grew up in their backyard. His name is written in graffiti all throughout his stomping grounds. Kids practice his moves and emulate his knack for chaos. All except for serious-minded and heavily-hyped Albert King, the impossibly-talented 6'5" 14 year-old, whom Rodney Parker openly covets and recruits.
The youths at Foster Park alternate from endearing to inspiring to tragic. If you've seen season 4 of The Wire, then you're already familiar with some of these characters, as some seem to be direct inspirations, and have similar uplifting and heartbreaking stories.
HIAP is uneven in that the narrative jumps around, giving a scattered impression here and there without letting momentum develop in any direction. This is much less of a problem in the second half, when Telander gets better at controlling the pace of each part so that they all parallel and overlap in rewarding ways as a whole, especially towards the end (the Subway Stars arc is particularly wonderful). I could also do without the thankfully rare moments where he slips out of reporter mode and into his personal thoughts, telling instead of showing. This is particularly a problem in the introduction; I recommend skipping it and going straight to chapter one. But more to the point, I urge you to read this book at all if you fancy yourself a hoopz geek.
March 3, 2014
Rick Telander, a writer for Sports Illustrated, hoped to spend a few days in New York in order to write a piece on inner-city basketball. He stayed a whole summer. He became so drawn to the people and the ideals, he kept wanting more. Observant and intrigued, his motives for staying bleed through the ink, and as a result enhance the substance and value in the book.
Telander implores a very unique style. While he remains just a fly on the wall just calling things as he hears them, his words elusively sink much deeper than that. Seemingly every sentence has meaning, and the inviting part about this idea is that they mean something different to each reader, depending on how they relate to the subject. His observations do a terrific job of examining the inner-city culture, and what basketball means to these athletes – both short and long term. The close relationship and pivotal role promoter Rodney Parker plays in the novel really helps drive the story, and adds an element unique to the area. His connections give these kids a goal. It gives them determination, and adds a physical representation for what these kids are trying to accomplish through basketball: breaking out of the slums and making something of themselves. It gives the reader something to root for too, and the path each story takes continually gives them a different aspect to look at.
Heaven is a Playground is a quick and nice read. The style is fluid and the topic fun, as well as intriguing. I enjoyed reading this cover to cover and would recommend it to all, sports fan or not. I rated it 5/5 stars.
Telander implores a very unique style. While he remains just a fly on the wall just calling things as he hears them, his words elusively sink much deeper than that. Seemingly every sentence has meaning, and the inviting part about this idea is that they mean something different to each reader, depending on how they relate to the subject. His observations do a terrific job of examining the inner-city culture, and what basketball means to these athletes – both short and long term. The close relationship and pivotal role promoter Rodney Parker plays in the novel really helps drive the story, and adds an element unique to the area. His connections give these kids a goal. It gives them determination, and adds a physical representation for what these kids are trying to accomplish through basketball: breaking out of the slums and making something of themselves. It gives the reader something to root for too, and the path each story takes continually gives them a different aspect to look at.
Heaven is a Playground is a quick and nice read. The style is fluid and the topic fun, as well as intriguing. I enjoyed reading this cover to cover and would recommend it to all, sports fan or not. I rated it 5/5 stars.
Read
March 17, 2016While reading about the upcoming Kansas vs. Austin Peay game in the first round of the 2016 NCAA Tournament I was reminded of a book I read long ago about a New York City playground legend named James "Fly" Williams who later played two seasons of college basketball at Austin Peay in the 1970s. I don't remember much about it. It was one of my brother's attempts to get me to become a reader.
April 5, 2023
10/10
Beautifully written book about street basketball in Brooklyn during the 1970s.
Beautifully written book about street basketball in Brooklyn during the 1970s.
May 2, 2018
In his 1974 classic, “Heaven is a Playground,” sports writer Rick Telander leaves a lot of important questions unanswered. For example, if a ghetto playground in Brooklyn is heaven for a basketball aficionado, how much of the playground is heaven and how much is hell for the black youth who seem trapped by its relative safety?
Outside of the playground? Broken glass. Graffiti. Heroine addicts. Deadly street gangs and drug dealers. Profiling cops. A society that serves ghetto youth distain and smells only the oder of failure.
Although the study is of the ghetto in 1974, it is still the world of Rodney King and Trayvon Martin. It is 150 years since Emancipation and still the black man is hunted on the streets of America. The reason why Black Lives Matter. The reason why incarceration rates of blacks are a disgrace.
Why basketball? What is it about this sport that yields so many outstanding athletes among black youth. Or football? Why do participation rates of blacks in pro baseball continue to drop?
I think the case of baseball has something to do with the participation of youth in parts of the world even more desperate than America’s ghettos. The barrio. The Caribbean wasteland. The favela.
Basketball and more particularly football are far more violent sports. The success of underprivileged youth in these sports, in fact the financial success of these sports is predicated upon the failure of youth to enter the mainstream. Pro sports is an indication of just how little America has progressed since Emancipation.
Where are the parents of these kids scrabbling hard to escape the ghetto? Where are the mentors? Where are the teachers? A place as big and sprawling and busy as New York has little time for the “losers” as Donald Trump would call them.
Even while author Rick Telander acknowledges seriousness of the ghetto trap for these youth, the tale is overlaid with some sentimental gauze that the home of basketball is really on these playgrounds. If he is right, then basketball is a mirror of the desperation of blacks to ever achieve equality when the deck is clearly stacked against them.
On a basketball court a boy is challenged by his peers. While not as deadly as a street brawl, it is someplace the boy can test his skill, his imagination, and his manliness. And it is a brutal competition nonetheless.
Outside of the playground? Broken glass. Graffiti. Heroine addicts. Deadly street gangs and drug dealers. Profiling cops. A society that serves ghetto youth distain and smells only the oder of failure.
Although the study is of the ghetto in 1974, it is still the world of Rodney King and Trayvon Martin. It is 150 years since Emancipation and still the black man is hunted on the streets of America. The reason why Black Lives Matter. The reason why incarceration rates of blacks are a disgrace.
Why basketball? What is it about this sport that yields so many outstanding athletes among black youth. Or football? Why do participation rates of blacks in pro baseball continue to drop?
I think the case of baseball has something to do with the participation of youth in parts of the world even more desperate than America’s ghettos. The barrio. The Caribbean wasteland. The favela.
Basketball and more particularly football are far more violent sports. The success of underprivileged youth in these sports, in fact the financial success of these sports is predicated upon the failure of youth to enter the mainstream. Pro sports is an indication of just how little America has progressed since Emancipation.
Where are the parents of these kids scrabbling hard to escape the ghetto? Where are the mentors? Where are the teachers? A place as big and sprawling and busy as New York has little time for the “losers” as Donald Trump would call them.
Even while author Rick Telander acknowledges seriousness of the ghetto trap for these youth, the tale is overlaid with some sentimental gauze that the home of basketball is really on these playgrounds. If he is right, then basketball is a mirror of the desperation of blacks to ever achieve equality when the deck is clearly stacked against them.
On a basketball court a boy is challenged by his peers. While not as deadly as a street brawl, it is someplace the boy can test his skill, his imagination, and his manliness. And it is a brutal competition nonetheless.
Read
January 5, 2025disclaimer: I don’t really give starred reviews. I hope my reviews provide enough information to let you know if a book is for you or not. Find me here: https://linktr.ee/bookishmillennial
This book highlights a snapshot in time, specifically the culture of Brooklyn street basketball for a summer in the 1970s :) Admittedly, I wasn't familiar with Rick Telander's career and work before reading this (I enjoy sports, but I wouldn't call myself an expert or well-versed in its entire history), but I still really enjoyed reading about his summer spent meeting and getting to know players like "Fly" Williams and Albert King, plus unofficial basketball agent, Rodney Parker.
I was most interested in Rodney's story, as he operated as the resource connector for these kids, offering them spaces at skills camps and programs, meetings with college scouts, and more. He is assuredly a pillar in their community, and it's clear he cared so deeply about these boys' futures. He gave them a chance at something different, and though not everyone made it to the big leagues and sometimes they missed meetings or let him down, Rodney seemed unrelenting in his strides to present them with opportunities and hope.
Fly Williams' backstory is all too familiar, as we've met so many young athletes who possess such magnificent potential, but continue to self-sabotage and burn every bridge built for them. Fly has essentially been blacklisted from any opportunities Rodney secured for him, yet remains an inspiration and someone the Foster Park youth look up to. They aspire to be at his level of skill and talent, which is ironic that he is many of their driving motivations, since he sort of serves as a cautionary tale too?
Overall, this was a quick read, and Telander mentioned he hasn't updated it (the cultural zeitgeist was soooo different in the 70s) but recognizes it reads as "dated," which I appreciate that level of transparency and accountability.
I respected the storytelling of these kids' stories, and how it illustrated that basketball played a central role in fostering community, hope, escapism, and structure for a predominantly Black neighborhood that was at the mercy of gentrification and being left behind.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Racism and Classism
Minor: Cursing and Death
This book highlights a snapshot in time, specifically the culture of Brooklyn street basketball for a summer in the 1970s :) Admittedly, I wasn't familiar with Rick Telander's career and work before reading this (I enjoy sports, but I wouldn't call myself an expert or well-versed in its entire history), but I still really enjoyed reading about his summer spent meeting and getting to know players like "Fly" Williams and Albert King, plus unofficial basketball agent, Rodney Parker.
I was most interested in Rodney's story, as he operated as the resource connector for these kids, offering them spaces at skills camps and programs, meetings with college scouts, and more. He is assuredly a pillar in their community, and it's clear he cared so deeply about these boys' futures. He gave them a chance at something different, and though not everyone made it to the big leagues and sometimes they missed meetings or let him down, Rodney seemed unrelenting in his strides to present them with opportunities and hope.
Fly Williams' backstory is all too familiar, as we've met so many young athletes who possess such magnificent potential, but continue to self-sabotage and burn every bridge built for them. Fly has essentially been blacklisted from any opportunities Rodney secured for him, yet remains an inspiration and someone the Foster Park youth look up to. They aspire to be at his level of skill and talent, which is ironic that he is many of their driving motivations, since he sort of serves as a cautionary tale too?
Overall, this was a quick read, and Telander mentioned he hasn't updated it (the cultural zeitgeist was soooo different in the 70s) but recognizes it reads as "dated," which I appreciate that level of transparency and accountability.
I respected the storytelling of these kids' stories, and how it illustrated that basketball played a central role in fostering community, hope, escapism, and structure for a predominantly Black neighborhood that was at the mercy of gentrification and being left behind.
Content Warnings
Moderate: Racism and Classism
Minor: Cursing and Death
May 20, 2024
A SPORTS WRITER FOLLOWS STREET BASKETBALL IN BROOKLYN
Rick Telander is the senior sports columnist for the Chicago Sun-Times; he was previously a Senior Writer at Sports Illustrated.
He wrote in the Introduction to this 1976 book, “Basketball is THE black man’s game… With black dominance has come speculation on the role of environment in the game---specifically, do city slums make good basketball players or do blacks have an innate talent fort the game?... no ethnic or racial group has ever held the overwhelming superiority that blacks now do. One might ask why Puerto Ricans and other Latins, likewise exiled to urban American slums, have yet to produce any substantial stars… Obviously black superiority in basketball rises from a combination of many factors. But one would not be far wrong in saying that in the cities, environment and black potential have merged to form unusually fertile ground. Indeed, nowhere does the game of basketball thrive as it does in the ghetto. And in that regard, few cities have ghettos as thriving as Brooklyn’s.” (Pg. 1-2)
Rodney Parker observes, “Ghetto kids can’t handle authority… And you know why? It’s because 90 percent of them never had fathers. I know because I never had one. The only men they see are the guys on the corner being cool. They can’t take being yelled at or embarrassed even for their own good because it’s all part of this manhood thing, what they think a man is---never being told what to do.” (Pg. 22)
He notes, “People only want Fly for what he can give them---basketball. Nobody paying out the money cares what he’s been through, what caused what. They don’t care that Fly never had a father, that he lives in the ugliest place in the world, that he got beaten up every … day as a kid. It’s just what he is RIGHT NOW.” (Pg. 40)
After Fly damaged his chances to play in college, “The business with Fly is affecting [Rodney] deeply… Beyond the money angle and the pride and the anger is real heartbreak… For three years Fly has been his project… They would both be famous. Fly would become All-Pro; Rodney would be the Super-Agent. They would both conquer the ghetto, together, making money hand over fist… [The college coach is] not even upset. He’s almost glad Fly isn’t coming back. It’s just sickening.” (Pg. 52-53)
Telander speaks with black coach George Murden: “‘No doubt about it… The absence of male leadership. In the typical absent father home, the mother doesn’t have time to give the kids self-confidence. The boys see man acting like kids, so they never grow up. Like with Fly, this arrogance is a façade. In that Notre Dame game on TV, I don’t think he was being cocky. He was scared.’… For many ghetto boys, George Murden implies, the first contact with a father-figure is through their basketball coach.” (Pg. 90-91)
He recounts, “Fly continues to prance about, seemingly without a care, heedless that agent Lew Schaffel is running into wall after wall in his attempt to find him a professional team. Just the other day, Carl Scheer, the new general manager of the Denver Rockets, said that despite Fly’s talents ‘his terrific maturity problem in crucial situations’ made him expandable. ‘We’ve had our fill of street players,’ said the GM.” (Pg. 104)
Derrick Melvin comments, “People think in the ghetto everybody is cheering you on to be a success… But that’s not how it is. Like those guys, winos and junkies. They’ll say, ‘You’re just a nothing 5’8” dude and I can whip [you] on the court.’ A lot of ‘em can, too, and they don’t like to see me getting anywhere because they remember how they got screwed over. The real pressure on you is NOT to make it.” (Pg. 134-135)
Telander explains, “But there are times when Fly’s ghetto behavior is misunderstood even by his best fans. On such occasions his defensive posture crumbles… Fly and James had been walking down the sidewalk. Seeing the, a little boy grabbed his buddy and whispered, ‘Oh man, that’s Fly Williams. He crazy.’ … [Fly] turned away so I couldn’t see his eyes. It hurt bad though. I mean here’s a kid… saying Fly’s crazy. And Fly can’t say anything back to an eight-year-old.’” (Pg. 148)
As Telander watches a game, he notes, “Nobody notices me. I feel as though I am invisible, the way I must have felt on most of our ghetto trips. The Stars told me this is because people believe any white man crazy enough to come into the neighborhood must have things under control and therefore is of no concern to them… Music Smith [says], 'And you don’t look like no cop. So you gotta be a basketball coach. And that’s cool.’” (Pg. 159-160)
He points out that “the ones who remain [in college] even for a year are changed. They are stronger and more mature, with outlooks tempered by perspective. Even Fly Williams mellowed during his career, though his status as a superstar separated his experience from the others. And the magic of the college experience, with its dreams and possibilities of advancement, is passed on quietly to the younger boys by those who have returned. Indeed, all the pep talks in the world mean nothing compared to the subtle and powerful vibrations emanating from one player who has made it.” (Pg. 169-170)
A sports attorney comments, “I’m used to dealing with college players… I mean buys who went four years, who are mature, who know what’s up… I think these ghetto kids are afraid of failure, and that’s why they subconsciously screw up. Take Joe Hammond over in Harlem… He had so many pro camps to show up at. But he never did. Why? Because if he didn’t make it how could he go home? He wouldn’t have the street rep in Harlem and the satisfied ego. And what else have these kids got besides their egos?” (Pg. 179)
This highly interesting book will appeal to those interested in inner-city street basketball.
Rick Telander is the senior sports columnist for the Chicago Sun-Times; he was previously a Senior Writer at Sports Illustrated.
He wrote in the Introduction to this 1976 book, “Basketball is THE black man’s game… With black dominance has come speculation on the role of environment in the game---specifically, do city slums make good basketball players or do blacks have an innate talent fort the game?... no ethnic or racial group has ever held the overwhelming superiority that blacks now do. One might ask why Puerto Ricans and other Latins, likewise exiled to urban American slums, have yet to produce any substantial stars… Obviously black superiority in basketball rises from a combination of many factors. But one would not be far wrong in saying that in the cities, environment and black potential have merged to form unusually fertile ground. Indeed, nowhere does the game of basketball thrive as it does in the ghetto. And in that regard, few cities have ghettos as thriving as Brooklyn’s.” (Pg. 1-2)
Rodney Parker observes, “Ghetto kids can’t handle authority… And you know why? It’s because 90 percent of them never had fathers. I know because I never had one. The only men they see are the guys on the corner being cool. They can’t take being yelled at or embarrassed even for their own good because it’s all part of this manhood thing, what they think a man is---never being told what to do.” (Pg. 22)
He notes, “People only want Fly for what he can give them---basketball. Nobody paying out the money cares what he’s been through, what caused what. They don’t care that Fly never had a father, that he lives in the ugliest place in the world, that he got beaten up every … day as a kid. It’s just what he is RIGHT NOW.” (Pg. 40)
After Fly damaged his chances to play in college, “The business with Fly is affecting [Rodney] deeply… Beyond the money angle and the pride and the anger is real heartbreak… For three years Fly has been his project… They would both be famous. Fly would become All-Pro; Rodney would be the Super-Agent. They would both conquer the ghetto, together, making money hand over fist… [The college coach is] not even upset. He’s almost glad Fly isn’t coming back. It’s just sickening.” (Pg. 52-53)
Telander speaks with black coach George Murden: “‘No doubt about it… The absence of male leadership. In the typical absent father home, the mother doesn’t have time to give the kids self-confidence. The boys see man acting like kids, so they never grow up. Like with Fly, this arrogance is a façade. In that Notre Dame game on TV, I don’t think he was being cocky. He was scared.’… For many ghetto boys, George Murden implies, the first contact with a father-figure is through their basketball coach.” (Pg. 90-91)
He recounts, “Fly continues to prance about, seemingly without a care, heedless that agent Lew Schaffel is running into wall after wall in his attempt to find him a professional team. Just the other day, Carl Scheer, the new general manager of the Denver Rockets, said that despite Fly’s talents ‘his terrific maturity problem in crucial situations’ made him expandable. ‘We’ve had our fill of street players,’ said the GM.” (Pg. 104)
Derrick Melvin comments, “People think in the ghetto everybody is cheering you on to be a success… But that’s not how it is. Like those guys, winos and junkies. They’ll say, ‘You’re just a nothing 5’8” dude and I can whip [you] on the court.’ A lot of ‘em can, too, and they don’t like to see me getting anywhere because they remember how they got screwed over. The real pressure on you is NOT to make it.” (Pg. 134-135)
Telander explains, “But there are times when Fly’s ghetto behavior is misunderstood even by his best fans. On such occasions his defensive posture crumbles… Fly and James had been walking down the sidewalk. Seeing the, a little boy grabbed his buddy and whispered, ‘Oh man, that’s Fly Williams. He crazy.’ … [Fly] turned away so I couldn’t see his eyes. It hurt bad though. I mean here’s a kid… saying Fly’s crazy. And Fly can’t say anything back to an eight-year-old.’” (Pg. 148)
As Telander watches a game, he notes, “Nobody notices me. I feel as though I am invisible, the way I must have felt on most of our ghetto trips. The Stars told me this is because people believe any white man crazy enough to come into the neighborhood must have things under control and therefore is of no concern to them… Music Smith [says], 'And you don’t look like no cop. So you gotta be a basketball coach. And that’s cool.’” (Pg. 159-160)
He points out that “the ones who remain [in college] even for a year are changed. They are stronger and more mature, with outlooks tempered by perspective. Even Fly Williams mellowed during his career, though his status as a superstar separated his experience from the others. And the magic of the college experience, with its dreams and possibilities of advancement, is passed on quietly to the younger boys by those who have returned. Indeed, all the pep talks in the world mean nothing compared to the subtle and powerful vibrations emanating from one player who has made it.” (Pg. 169-170)
A sports attorney comments, “I’m used to dealing with college players… I mean buys who went four years, who are mature, who know what’s up… I think these ghetto kids are afraid of failure, and that’s why they subconsciously screw up. Take Joe Hammond over in Harlem… He had so many pro camps to show up at. But he never did. Why? Because if he didn’t make it how could he go home? He wouldn’t have the street rep in Harlem and the satisfied ego. And what else have these kids got besides their egos?” (Pg. 179)
This highly interesting book will appeal to those interested in inner-city street basketball.
December 2, 2016
(Plot) A guy name Rick Telander spends his whole summer in a ghetto styled community. He meets a group of kids that play street ball at Brooklyn Fosters park and he ends up spending his time teaching them how to play basketball. He eventually became their coach and taut them the true ways of how to be a team. He taut them to play for yourself and the team and they would win. He went through everything to get them to know that if they played as a team they would be unstoppable. He finally got that in their heads and once they did they had so much fun playing together. They played the hardest street ball team and they weren't doing good. Rick reminded them to play as a team and once they got that back in their heads they one.
(Unknown words) Compensate: To give someone or something money in recognition of a loss. Forsake: To give up or abandon Indolent: lazy
Us people sometimes try so hard for something but don't achieve it. They end up giving up and not caring for it any more. But once they know what they will get out of it they go back and try again. In Heaven is a Playground Rick Talender gives up on the team and says"All of you are just wasting my time" (Telander Pg.106)."
I enjoyed this book a lot because it was about basketball. I tried to find a book that was about basketball and this was the most interesting one i looked at. I really liked that it was about a different style community that Rick was used to but he still stayed. I also like that he mentioned that you should play for yourself and the team because if you play as a team and for yourself you will do so much better. I really like this book.
(Unknown words) Compensate: To give someone or something money in recognition of a loss. Forsake: To give up or abandon Indolent: lazy
Us people sometimes try so hard for something but don't achieve it. They end up giving up and not caring for it any more. But once they know what they will get out of it they go back and try again. In Heaven is a Playground Rick Talender gives up on the team and says"All of you are just wasting my time" (Telander Pg.106)."
I enjoyed this book a lot because it was about basketball. I tried to find a book that was about basketball and this was the most interesting one i looked at. I really liked that it was about a different style community that Rick was used to but he still stayed. I also like that he mentioned that you should play for yourself and the team because if you play as a team and for yourself you will do so much better. I really like this book.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
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June 16, 2022The book humanizes the unofficial talent scouts/street hustlers, who are referenced in books like Mitch Albom’s Fab Five as guys who leech themselves onto athletes in the hopes of parlaying the relationship into a profit for themselves. One of its main characters (Rodney Parker) hustles in the vein of one of Malcolm Gladwell’s “Connectors” from The Tipping Point, bridging athletes from poor backgrounds to universities, JUCOs and prep schools.
There’s a duality (cool word) to the topics covered in this book: the noisiness of the city parks versus the relative quiet of college campuses; stud basketball player Fly Williams’ superior talent versus his absurdly self-destructive temperament; being an objective observer versus being a participant; the discipline needed to escape the trappings of poverty versus the overwhelming pressure to succeed; etc. The book felt like a certified classic of the genre while reading it.
There’s also a vividness to the way the settings are described throughout. Glass shards litter basketball courts and cut the hands of those who dribble across it. There are cliques of people who hang out in segregated sections of the park: the immigrant West Indians and the teens who mimic Super Fly in dress and behavior (a movie I haven’t seen, but the description made sense) are examples.
“The symbolism of backing down— or standing up at great danger— holds for men everywhere. But it has historic and painful transcendence for men who have few possessions and strictly limited ways to express their worth and selfhood.” p. 88
There’s a duality (cool word) to the topics covered in this book: the noisiness of the city parks versus the relative quiet of college campuses; stud basketball player Fly Williams’ superior talent versus his absurdly self-destructive temperament; being an objective observer versus being a participant; the discipline needed to escape the trappings of poverty versus the overwhelming pressure to succeed; etc. The book felt like a certified classic of the genre while reading it.
There’s also a vividness to the way the settings are described throughout. Glass shards litter basketball courts and cut the hands of those who dribble across it. There are cliques of people who hang out in segregated sections of the park: the immigrant West Indians and the teens who mimic Super Fly in dress and behavior (a movie I haven’t seen, but the description made sense) are examples.
“The symbolism of backing down— or standing up at great danger— holds for men everywhere. But it has historic and painful transcendence for men who have few possessions and strictly limited ways to express their worth and selfhood.” p. 88
June 23, 2025
A nonfiction book about street basketball in 1974’s Brooklyn, mostly Foster Park. It showcases guys who fade out, are eaten by the streets/can’t survive at college, and plenty of future NBA players. It’s a snapshot of time and culture, and a measuring stick for how far the game has come. The street truly produced 99% of the greats back then; now, indoor ball, specialized coaches, travel teams and mixtapes dominate youth basketball culture. It was cool reading about the young players of the 70s…Albert King was 6’6 coming out of 8th grade and could handle college players; Fly Williams had NYC stardom and was the third leading scorer in the NCAA…yet fizzled as a pro. Many drift towards drugs and gangs once they realize they aren’t good enough to make it, and they sometimes drag with them those who could’ve made it. I recommend this book to anyone who’s played intense, outdoor pickup basketball 🏀
My copy had some typos; a quotation mark belonging to wrong sentence, “early july” is written as early June on the header for the entire chapter, and near the end they call foster park “forest park”. And that’s all I noticed. I can only hope other dates and facts were correct!
My copy had some typos; a quotation mark belonging to wrong sentence, “early july” is written as early June on the header for the entire chapter, and near the end they call foster park “forest park”. And that’s all I noticed. I can only hope other dates and facts were correct!
May 17, 2018
A great book about pickup ball in Brooklyn. I loved it at first, it mentions my old AAU coach, Lester Roberts, as the business owner that printed the shirts for the Subway Stars. He later started an AAU program in my hometown of Baton Rouge. What I didn't like about the book was the inevitable messiah complex of a 20 year old white 'coach'. I can't imagine sitting through that many games at that age without playing. The epilogue follows up mainly with Fly Williams and Albert King, and proclaims the Brooklyn Nets as the crown jewel and manifestation of Brooklyn basketball culture. It would have been better to hear about how less talented players turned out. And - a few years into it, there is a possibility that that the Nets are indeed faking the funk. An imperfect book, filled with great conversation, personality and occasionally brutal urban crime; but Telander also gracefully describes the unenforced civility and spectacular nature of Brooklyn pickup ball.
August 27, 2021
Originally published in 1974 and now in its fifth edition, Rick Telander's saga about a summer spent observing street basketball played on the courts of Brooklyn. The author manages to capture great portraits of the court's many participants, all the way from potential college and pro talent, Fly Richardson, his success alongside his self-destructive tendencies which scuttled any opportunity he had at moving to organized hoops in a successful manner. You will meet Rodney, the mover and shaker who did his best to guide all potential hoopsters to the next level, more often than not failing not by his mistakes but by their inability to adjust to playing structured hoops. A whole list of side characters make this a thoroughly enjoyable read for fans of the game of basketball.
March 5, 2025
I thoroughly enjoyed reading about the day to day lives of the basketball players and people involved with Foster Park in inner-city Brooklyn. I also enjoyed hearing first hand accounts of NBA and New York park legends such as Connie Hawkins and Earl Manigault. This extremely descriptive and explicit book paints a clear picture of the struggles and hardships of not only the aspiring basketball stars but also the many other influential people of the area. I found it fascinating to read about how many kids at Foster Park were aspiring basketball players and how few were able to succeed and play at the next level. I'd suggest this book to anyone with an interest in sports literature or anyone who would consider themselves an avid basketball fan.
November 30, 2018
The book is an interesting, sometimes engaging, snapshot of a moment in time ... I understand the book now has a cult following and I'm of the age to feel a bit nostalgic about the names and circumstances the book centers and about a time when a "slam dunk" was called a "stuff shot" ... But the book is mostly bittersweet in that, while the rules surrounding college basketball have changed dramatically, the racial, cultural and socioeconomic dynamics that make this story really haven't; so rather than nostalgic, the characters described in the book just make you feel sad ... Still, Rick wrote a good back, very bold for its time
November 11, 2020
That felt good. I don’t even follow sports regularly, but I love a good sports story that focuses on the people and the game and the deep human element of it all. Knowing how life-changing a single opportunity is —be it a prep school team, college, pro, or even a local league team to give these kids a goal to work towards — showed the difference in the various paths life can take. This was a great example of how meaningful and motivating it is when adults show attention, respect, validation, and encouragement to children. The postscript was an especially rewarding addition for me as a reader. Def recommend this book.
June 1, 2024
"I wander out of the park in the other direction, wondering about DeMont. Does anyone care when he comes home? Does he have a father, an uncle? Does he have anyone who cares about him, and him only, who says, 'I love you, son. You are my flesh and blood. You are my heart.' I wonder about many things all of a sudden, and I feel a cloud descending upon me, the cloud I have been fighting all along, the one I can't let reach me."
July 11, 2021
One of the best basketball books ever. Growing up across the Hudson in NJ in the 70s and 80s I spent a lot of time playing playground basketball. Our playgrounds were a lot different from the ones in NYC but the love of the game, the love of being on the court all day long was the same. Telander's book is a classic and must read for all basketball fans.
March 8, 2023
Really enjoyed this book. A lot of insight into not only playground basketball in the 1970s but the seriousness of playground basketball and how it turned into a business. For so many it was a way out of a bad situation but most did not have the discipline and mentorship to follow through on the amazing potential they had.
Quick, engaging read.
Quick, engaging read.
September 15, 2023
Thank you Rick. I just finished this book and felt so connected to the players and the story. As a white kid who grew up in the suburbs, I had a very different relationship with basketball but it consumed me nonetheless. Reading this book made me love the game even deeper, knowing the joy it provides to all walks of life. Heaven truly is a playground.
March 13, 2024
slow start for me but by the end definitely struck an emotional chord -- was sad to stop reading. Life of a park, a good focal point for a summer. Coaching, group dynamics, being an outsider. Last epilogue resonated with me -- feeling welcomed into the community. Fly Williams! New York City legends of the playground and how it all went down.
August 9, 2024
I came across this title while looking to fill in some squares on a reading challenge through my alumni association. Never having done one of these challenges, I am quite pleased that it led to me reading this really good book. It part sports, part sociology, part heart breaker and other things, too. I really don't play basketball at all but was able to fully enjoy this one.
October 7, 2025
the author puts you on the brooklyn courts with him for a summer. the players (fly, albert, the subway stars), and the hangers on, are memorable for both their game and their desires (college?). I read a 2014 edition, and i actually found the footnotes (where people are now, etc.) sort of annoying, they interrupted the flow. enjoyed the book more when I just read the original text.
September 24, 2018
This is a great sports book about street basketball in Brooklyn during one hot summer in the mid-seventies. It really sets the time and place and made me get nostalgic of growing up not that far away in Woodhaven,NY. What a different time it was!
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