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Black Ball: Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Spencer Haywood, and the Generation that Saved the Soul of the NBA
A vital narrative history of 1970s pro basketball, and the Black players who shaped the NBA
Against a backdrop of ongoing resistance to racial desegregation and strident calls for Black Power, the NBA in the 1970s embodied the nation’s imagined descent into disorder. A new generation of Black players entered the league then, among them Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Spencer Haywood, and the press and public were quick to blame this cohort for the supposed decline of pro basketball, citing drugs, violence, and greed. Basketball became a symbol for post-civil rights the rules had changed, allowing more Black people onto the playing field, and now they were ruining everything. Enter Black Ball , a gripping history and corrective in which scholar Theresa Runstedtler expertly rewrites basketball’s “Dark Ages.” Weaving together a deep knowledge of the game with incisive social analysis, Runstedtler argues that this much-maligned period was pivotal to the rise of the modern-day NBA. Black players introduced an improvisational style derived from the playground courts of their neighborhoods. They also challenged the team owners’ autocratic power, garnering higher salaries and increased agency. Their skills, style, and savvy laid the foundation for the global popularity and profitability of the league we know today.
Against a backdrop of ongoing resistance to racial desegregation and strident calls for Black Power, the NBA in the 1970s embodied the nation’s imagined descent into disorder. A new generation of Black players entered the league then, among them Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Spencer Haywood, and the press and public were quick to blame this cohort for the supposed decline of pro basketball, citing drugs, violence, and greed. Basketball became a symbol for post-civil rights the rules had changed, allowing more Black people onto the playing field, and now they were ruining everything. Enter Black Ball , a gripping history and corrective in which scholar Theresa Runstedtler expertly rewrites basketball’s “Dark Ages.” Weaving together a deep knowledge of the game with incisive social analysis, Runstedtler argues that this much-maligned period was pivotal to the rise of the modern-day NBA. Black players introduced an improvisational style derived from the playground courts of their neighborhoods. They also challenged the team owners’ autocratic power, garnering higher salaries and increased agency. Their skills, style, and savvy laid the foundation for the global popularity and profitability of the league we know today.
368 pages, Hardcover
Published March 7, 2023
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Displaying 1 - 30 of 85 reviews
March 30, 2023
"[The short-lived American Basketball Association of 1967-1976] would feature a red, white, and blue ball reminiscent of the one used by the Harlem Globetrotters . . . [and] rather than sporting the typical black-and-white uniforms, the referees would also be jazzed up in red shirts, white trousers, blue belts and shoes . . . Little did ABA team owners realize that their upstart league would change the color of the game in more ways than one. It would soon be the incubator for a new style of pro ball - black ball - and its existence would help spur black players to lead a more forceful push for higher compensation, better contract terms, and more control over their careers." -- on page 30
It's vibrant prose like the above-listed quote that keeps me devoutly reading 20th century-related history or non-fiction, but for much of the time Black Ball generated only mild interest. (Admittedly, I'm also not a basketball fan / follower.) It is a well-researched and -written work in terms of the historical aspect - and it's only the second book by this author - but like another recent reviewer noted some of the conclusions presented are debatable or maybe too one-sided or divisive. Perhaps a biographical book focused on the adventurously freewheeling ABA, or even on the engaging NBA executive Simon Gourdine - and here I will agree with the author's stance that HE should have been appointed as the league's commissioner in the mid-70's - would've been more to my liking.
It's vibrant prose like the above-listed quote that keeps me devoutly reading 20th century-related history or non-fiction, but for much of the time Black Ball generated only mild interest. (Admittedly, I'm also not a basketball fan / follower.) It is a well-researched and -written work in terms of the historical aspect - and it's only the second book by this author - but like another recent reviewer noted some of the conclusions presented are debatable or maybe too one-sided or divisive. Perhaps a biographical book focused on the adventurously freewheeling ABA, or even on the engaging NBA executive Simon Gourdine - and here I will agree with the author's stance that HE should have been appointed as the league's commissioner in the mid-70's - would've been more to my liking.
June 30, 2023
The 1970s: bell bottoms, disco, Afros, and people were free to be you and me. The decade that encouraged Americans to be free thinkers and independent souls was also a time of transition post civil rights movement and post feminine mystique. Americans of all colors and both genders all desired to achieve their personal American dream. Theresa Runstedtler argues that no where was this more defined than in basketball, that saw game transition from one of the two handed set shot to a black, street ball based game epitomized by the slam dunk. With the game and society in transition, it would take a generation who came of age in the civil rights movement to move the game forward to become the modern game that we know today. Runstedtler hypothesizes that it was the players in the 1970s who made this all possible.
If you are looking for a book that describes Kareem Abdul Jabbar and Julius Irving’s nightly exploits on the basketball court, then perhaps this is not the book for you. I made that mistake as will seeing the vibrant cover and catchy title. Yes, Kareem, Dr J, Oscar Robertson, and other prominent names do make many appearances in this book; however, the decade is told from a social political lens rather than about the rise of certain teams, players, and rivalries. Runstedtler frames the book in two halves: before and after the NBA-ABA merger. Prior to the merger the NBA could be described as a lily white game marketed toward whites. Because middle class whites comprised the majority of fans, players who looked like them garnered more appeal. The issue was, according to disgruntled owners, is that blacks began to constitute a higher percentage of players in the league. A rival league, the ABA emerged in smaller markets and signed many black stars, even before they finished college. Today that is commonplace; in the 1970s players had to finish college to enter the NBA draft. In both leagues, like in other major sports leagues, players felt like property of their owners. They had to play at their peak to even consider getting a raise the next year or owners would trade or release them. This is the NBA that Kareem and Dr J and a generation of stars at the tail end of their careers when I started watching basketball entered into. It was not the poetry in motion, street hall league that I quickly grew to love, but rather a game that still had to cater to the whites who watched it.
The major issue that became a race issue was drug usage, which became rampant in society during the late 1970s, precipitating President Reagan’s war on drugs. The young, male, black athlete became stereotyped as the drug user as a menace to white society. Cocaine and free base made inroads in middle class society that black athletes with disposable income could now enter into. Leagues wanted to clamp down on drug usage and made certain cases like Spencer Haywood and Bernard King scapegoats for the entire problem. Baseball and football were no better as the league punished teams like the Pittsburgh Pirates for cocaine usage, before any league had a clear cut policy. The white press played a key role in determining that drugs were indeed a black problem, calling players problems, a menace, or animalistic, that whites had to be leery of. If white players got caught with drugs, then the press would write it off saying boys would be boys. Hockey, being composed of mainly whites was said to have few drug users amongst its ranks. The black press came to the defense of NBA players, but it wouldn’t be until the league had a drug usage policy and more visibility on cable television that it finally cleaned up its image.
Runstedtler did not have enough information to formulate a hypothesis for a full length book so she followed it by explaining how Magic, Bird, and Air Jordan “saved” the NBA from itself at a time when the league was finally getting the cable exposure that other sports had long enjoyed. She followed that up by saying how the 1970s were a direct ancestor of players speaking out for social change today. When she described her background in the introduction and dropped the names of popular players today, I was convinced that perhaps this was her goal all along. Yes, Kareem came of age during the civil rights movement but not every single player in the nba during the 1970s was a bastion for social change. Many came from single parent homes and just wanted to earn enough money to support their families. This may have been a turn off to the white media, but it was not a young generation of people asking for the end of policy brutality that we see today. As a result, the last five pages of the book ruined the rest of the text for me, a text that while frustrating at times was written with a clear message in mind : that the nba of the 1970s was racist and needed to do a 180 to clean up.
One thing that the author and I agree on is the players entering the league in the 1990s possessed an urban cool to them. These players sported jewelry, cornrows, and tattoos and turned me off to the nba as I knew: the generation of Jordan and Magic that brought the league to where it is today. It was that generation that went out and played basketball and was for the most part apolitical that I enjoyed watching the most. Sports for many people is supposed to be an escape. Yes, team owners in the 1970s might not have understood that, but once the collective bargaining passed and the league took off, players balled to ball, not to take a political stand. While the players of today might be descendants of the key people who transformed the league fifty years ago, they do not play the brand of basketball on and off the court that I enjoy. This book read like an academic piece rather than an escapist sports nonfiction book, which was the author’s message from the beginning.
3 stars
If you are looking for a book that describes Kareem Abdul Jabbar and Julius Irving’s nightly exploits on the basketball court, then perhaps this is not the book for you. I made that mistake as will seeing the vibrant cover and catchy title. Yes, Kareem, Dr J, Oscar Robertson, and other prominent names do make many appearances in this book; however, the decade is told from a social political lens rather than about the rise of certain teams, players, and rivalries. Runstedtler frames the book in two halves: before and after the NBA-ABA merger. Prior to the merger the NBA could be described as a lily white game marketed toward whites. Because middle class whites comprised the majority of fans, players who looked like them garnered more appeal. The issue was, according to disgruntled owners, is that blacks began to constitute a higher percentage of players in the league. A rival league, the ABA emerged in smaller markets and signed many black stars, even before they finished college. Today that is commonplace; in the 1970s players had to finish college to enter the NBA draft. In both leagues, like in other major sports leagues, players felt like property of their owners. They had to play at their peak to even consider getting a raise the next year or owners would trade or release them. This is the NBA that Kareem and Dr J and a generation of stars at the tail end of their careers when I started watching basketball entered into. It was not the poetry in motion, street hall league that I quickly grew to love, but rather a game that still had to cater to the whites who watched it.
The major issue that became a race issue was drug usage, which became rampant in society during the late 1970s, precipitating President Reagan’s war on drugs. The young, male, black athlete became stereotyped as the drug user as a menace to white society. Cocaine and free base made inroads in middle class society that black athletes with disposable income could now enter into. Leagues wanted to clamp down on drug usage and made certain cases like Spencer Haywood and Bernard King scapegoats for the entire problem. Baseball and football were no better as the league punished teams like the Pittsburgh Pirates for cocaine usage, before any league had a clear cut policy. The white press played a key role in determining that drugs were indeed a black problem, calling players problems, a menace, or animalistic, that whites had to be leery of. If white players got caught with drugs, then the press would write it off saying boys would be boys. Hockey, being composed of mainly whites was said to have few drug users amongst its ranks. The black press came to the defense of NBA players, but it wouldn’t be until the league had a drug usage policy and more visibility on cable television that it finally cleaned up its image.
Runstedtler did not have enough information to formulate a hypothesis for a full length book so she followed it by explaining how Magic, Bird, and Air Jordan “saved” the NBA from itself at a time when the league was finally getting the cable exposure that other sports had long enjoyed. She followed that up by saying how the 1970s were a direct ancestor of players speaking out for social change today. When she described her background in the introduction and dropped the names of popular players today, I was convinced that perhaps this was her goal all along. Yes, Kareem came of age during the civil rights movement but not every single player in the nba during the 1970s was a bastion for social change. Many came from single parent homes and just wanted to earn enough money to support their families. This may have been a turn off to the white media, but it was not a young generation of people asking for the end of policy brutality that we see today. As a result, the last five pages of the book ruined the rest of the text for me, a text that while frustrating at times was written with a clear message in mind : that the nba of the 1970s was racist and needed to do a 180 to clean up.
One thing that the author and I agree on is the players entering the league in the 1990s possessed an urban cool to them. These players sported jewelry, cornrows, and tattoos and turned me off to the nba as I knew: the generation of Jordan and Magic that brought the league to where it is today. It was that generation that went out and played basketball and was for the most part apolitical that I enjoyed watching the most. Sports for many people is supposed to be an escape. Yes, team owners in the 1970s might not have understood that, but once the collective bargaining passed and the league took off, players balled to ball, not to take a political stand. While the players of today might be descendants of the key people who transformed the league fifty years ago, they do not play the brand of basketball on and off the court that I enjoy. This book read like an academic piece rather than an escapist sports nonfiction book, which was the author’s message from the beginning.
3 stars
May 25, 2023
During my lifetime, the NBA has always been the most progressive sports league. I came of age in the 80s and 90s, during the Renaissance of Bird, Magic & MJ, when the NBA went from an upstart newcomer (Black Ball recounts the merger of the ABA and NBA in 1976, arguably the birthdate of the modern NBA; the three-point line was added in 1979, the 16-team postseason in 1984) to an established major sports league. In recent years, coaches like Steve Kerr and Gregg Popovich have been outspoken on social issues, especially police brutality, and the league heavily promoted Black Lives Matter messaging during the Bubble postseason of 2020 as the George Floyd protests dominated headlines.
What Black Ball, written by professor (and former Toronto Raptors dance team member!) Theresa Runstedtler, argues is that whatever progress the league has made on matters of race and equality were hard won. Surveying the late 60s and 70s, and picking figures like Connie Hawkins, Oscar Robertson, and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar as key players in her narrative, Runstedtler illuminates the unique challenges facing Black athletes, notably efforts to assert their rights as players when it came to contract negotiations.
Most intriguing is Runstedtler’s analysis of the way predominantly white media members aligned with predominantly white owners to shape narratives of players like Abdul-Jabbar and Spencer Haywood as unruly, dangerous, and worse. (Aside: Kermit Washington's punch of Rudy Tomjanovich gets significant consideration.) As Jay Caspian King said in the New Yorker, this dynamic basically remains intact today. "The basketball press exists mostly to promote the league -- it tends to be in sympathy with the management, not the players," he writes. "In my experience reporting on the N.B.A., I can tell you that there is no other entity that I have encountered -- including politicians, police departments, and other sports leagues -- that is more needlessly hostile to criticism or which harasses journalists with such consistency."
I'm obviously in the target audience of this book, but it should be said it often dragged. Less research/history would've made for a sleeker, more engaging read. I also wish Runstedtler had spent more time discussing how the game itself evolved stylistically during this period. Nevertheless, glad I read it. By the end, I was fully persuaded by her conclusion: “The NBA expanded its popularity [in the 80s] by promoting a highly curated brand of American Blackness, one emptied of contemporary political content and any reference to past struggles.“
What Black Ball, written by professor (and former Toronto Raptors dance team member!) Theresa Runstedtler, argues is that whatever progress the league has made on matters of race and equality were hard won. Surveying the late 60s and 70s, and picking figures like Connie Hawkins, Oscar Robertson, and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar as key players in her narrative, Runstedtler illuminates the unique challenges facing Black athletes, notably efforts to assert their rights as players when it came to contract negotiations.
Most intriguing is Runstedtler’s analysis of the way predominantly white media members aligned with predominantly white owners to shape narratives of players like Abdul-Jabbar and Spencer Haywood as unruly, dangerous, and worse. (Aside: Kermit Washington's punch of Rudy Tomjanovich gets significant consideration.) As Jay Caspian King said in the New Yorker, this dynamic basically remains intact today. "The basketball press exists mostly to promote the league -- it tends to be in sympathy with the management, not the players," he writes. "In my experience reporting on the N.B.A., I can tell you that there is no other entity that I have encountered -- including politicians, police departments, and other sports leagues -- that is more needlessly hostile to criticism or which harasses journalists with such consistency."
I'm obviously in the target audience of this book, but it should be said it often dragged. Less research/history would've made for a sleeker, more engaging read. I also wish Runstedtler had spent more time discussing how the game itself evolved stylistically during this period. Nevertheless, glad I read it. By the end, I was fully persuaded by her conclusion: “The NBA expanded its popularity [in the 80s] by promoting a highly curated brand of American Blackness, one emptied of contemporary political content and any reference to past struggles.“
October 30, 2023
The decade of the 1970’s was a decade of both progressive change and a decline in the interest of mostly white fans of professional basketball. Some call it the “dark age” of the sport, but this book by Theresa Runstedtler tells why that is not necessarily the case.
The book has some great prose and well-written sections. One example is when she is writing about the American Basketball Association (ABA), a short-lived but very important professional league that directly competed for players against the more established NBA. She writes that the red, white and blue basketball the league used was not the only example of a change of color. This passage is typical of the language used in the book: “Little did ABA team owners realize that their upstart league would change the color of the game in more ways than one. It would soon be the incubator for a new style of pro ball - black ball - and its existence would help spur black players to lead a more forceful push for higher compensation, better contract terms, and more control over their careers."
This prose is not the only excellent feature of this book as it is well-researched and the arguments presented are backed up well with factual evidence. More than just basketball, issues that either are directly part of civil rights and racial justice or tangentially related such as labor relations are discussed in great detail. While that is the main focus of the book, it also describes how the game itself changed. With more Black players gaining jobs in both leagues, especially the ABA, the game changed from set plays and jump shots to a more freewheeling style with dunks and creativity.
All of this is told with racial integration and justice as a key theme and for the most part, Runstedtler is very convincing and will make a reader think, no matter their race. The only downfall of this argument was the last section about a punch thrown by Kermit Washington, a Black player, on a white player, Rudy Tomjanovich. Having seen that game and also having read other sources about the two men and the incident, there isn’t much agreement about the racial aspects of this and sadly, this isn’t of the same high quality as the rest of the book. However, don’t let that one chapter discourage you from reading this one. Anyone interested in civil rights or basketball from that era will enjoy it.
I wish to thank Bold Type Books for providing a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.
The book has some great prose and well-written sections. One example is when she is writing about the American Basketball Association (ABA), a short-lived but very important professional league that directly competed for players against the more established NBA. She writes that the red, white and blue basketball the league used was not the only example of a change of color. This passage is typical of the language used in the book: “Little did ABA team owners realize that their upstart league would change the color of the game in more ways than one. It would soon be the incubator for a new style of pro ball - black ball - and its existence would help spur black players to lead a more forceful push for higher compensation, better contract terms, and more control over their careers."
This prose is not the only excellent feature of this book as it is well-researched and the arguments presented are backed up well with factual evidence. More than just basketball, issues that either are directly part of civil rights and racial justice or tangentially related such as labor relations are discussed in great detail. While that is the main focus of the book, it also describes how the game itself changed. With more Black players gaining jobs in both leagues, especially the ABA, the game changed from set plays and jump shots to a more freewheeling style with dunks and creativity.
All of this is told with racial integration and justice as a key theme and for the most part, Runstedtler is very convincing and will make a reader think, no matter their race. The only downfall of this argument was the last section about a punch thrown by Kermit Washington, a Black player, on a white player, Rudy Tomjanovich. Having seen that game and also having read other sources about the two men and the incident, there isn’t much agreement about the racial aspects of this and sadly, this isn’t of the same high quality as the rest of the book. However, don’t let that one chapter discourage you from reading this one. Anyone interested in civil rights or basketball from that era will enjoy it.
I wish to thank Bold Type Books for providing a copy of the book in exchange for an honest review.
February 13, 2023
Black Ball by Theresa Runstedtler is a detailed examination of how the influx of Black players coupled with the recent civil rights movement led to a change in the NBA.
In baseball, a similar movement had a singular face, Curt Flood, even though the change didn't occur until a few years later. To paraphrase Flood, while the civil rights movement made him more aware and less willing to go along with racist actions, his decision to fight for player rights was done from the position of a ballplayer, not strictly a Black player. Similarly, though race played a big factor in the NBA changes, the empowerment went to all players.
Unfortunately, as this wonderful book illustrates, not only did the fat cat owners oppose any change but they had the help of the media in painting this as a race issue with every negative issue about the league, real or imagined, being placed on the shoulders of the Black players. Runstedtler examines the contributions of those involved in helping the league to evolve, from the big names that could easily have avoided controversy in order to make sure they at least got what they could to those behind the scene who risked everything to fight for what they believed in.
Well-researched and engagingly written, this book will appeal to anyone with an interest in sports, the civil rights era, and the intersection of popular culture with labor relations. For someone of my age, it is also a nice nostalgic trip but from a different perspective than most.
Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.
In baseball, a similar movement had a singular face, Curt Flood, even though the change didn't occur until a few years later. To paraphrase Flood, while the civil rights movement made him more aware and less willing to go along with racist actions, his decision to fight for player rights was done from the position of a ballplayer, not strictly a Black player. Similarly, though race played a big factor in the NBA changes, the empowerment went to all players.
Unfortunately, as this wonderful book illustrates, not only did the fat cat owners oppose any change but they had the help of the media in painting this as a race issue with every negative issue about the league, real or imagined, being placed on the shoulders of the Black players. Runstedtler examines the contributions of those involved in helping the league to evolve, from the big names that could easily have avoided controversy in order to make sure they at least got what they could to those behind the scene who risked everything to fight for what they believed in.
Well-researched and engagingly written, this book will appeal to anyone with an interest in sports, the civil rights era, and the intersection of popular culture with labor relations. For someone of my age, it is also a nice nostalgic trip but from a different perspective than most.
Reviewed from a copy made available by the publisher via NetGalley.
February 16, 2024
I had really high hopes going into this because it's all about the nba, but while the overall premise was super interesting it was so long and didn't really catch my attention. They were throwing out so many player names that I got lost in who we were talking about.
Main takeaway is that the nba would not exist (likey at all, but at least in the way it is now) without Black players going through such clear discrimination and fighting for their right to play.
Main takeaway is that the nba would not exist (likey at all, but at least in the way it is now) without Black players going through such clear discrimination and fighting for their right to play.
December 23, 2023
Runstedtler, a former Raptors dancer, is an award-winning African-American History scholar. She covers the 70s, fraught with difficulties, which saw the merger of the ABA and NBA, and the post-desegregation challenges that followed. Often cited for negativity, but not the positive influences that have shaped the league as it presently stands. This well-researched, but at times meandering book, highlights both. My absolute favorite cover of the year.
June 21, 2023
Detailed narrative around a specific period in the NBA. When it ended I wanted more! Good if you are interested on the intersection between sports and social issues.
May 24, 2023
this book read like a Matt Andrews lecture - awesome
May 10, 2023
I really haven't ventured into the world of sports writing but this was incredible and I'm eager to read more! Runstedtler did a fantastic job of elucidating the intersections of labor rights, the Black power movement, and masculinity as they relate to basketball - I didn't know so much about the history of sports and how it shines a light on the politics of the day so I highly recommend this book as a jumping-off point.
March 31, 2024
I lived through this basketball era, and was very involved watching & seeing games, following the leagues, players & teams, reading numerous books & bios. So, much of this was old news to me, new to the current generation (whom the book is written for); but there was much detail and information unavailable at the time to the public generally (for various reasons).
This is simply a history of one corporate sports structure, which by nature is elitist & racist. The author has done a pretty good job researching the subject, but naturally had her mind set on the outcome, before she started or during her "creation" period. There are some tired cliches, which I will not detail, but which serve to create a somewhat fictional picture of players/teams/coaches.
In addition, I could tell the author is not really a "real" knowledgeable NBA/pro basketball fan, since she makes questionable declarations about some players and/or coaches, which are "too easy" to put out there.
The book rushes to an ending in the last chapter, generalizing several decades. The real missing piece is any look at the 80s, especially the real drug (& other) player problems which "reared its head" following the arrival of the "savior," Michael Jordan and cover-ups by David Stern, et al.
Does the name "Johnny High" bring up anything? Especially if one wants to find a tie-in between players, drugs & management.
This is simply a history of one corporate sports structure, which by nature is elitist & racist. The author has done a pretty good job researching the subject, but naturally had her mind set on the outcome, before she started or during her "creation" period. There are some tired cliches, which I will not detail, but which serve to create a somewhat fictional picture of players/teams/coaches.
In addition, I could tell the author is not really a "real" knowledgeable NBA/pro basketball fan, since she makes questionable declarations about some players and/or coaches, which are "too easy" to put out there.
The book rushes to an ending in the last chapter, generalizing several decades. The real missing piece is any look at the 80s, especially the real drug (& other) player problems which "reared its head" following the arrival of the "savior," Michael Jordan and cover-ups by David Stern, et al.
Does the name "Johnny High" bring up anything? Especially if one wants to find a tie-in between players, drugs & management.
May 26, 2023
A detailed look at basketball in the 70s; focusing on the influx and dominance of Black athletes to both the NBA and ABA. Many fans and scholars view the 70s as "the dark ages" because of the cocaine crisis, on court fighting, and players demanding better contracts; but Runstedtler makes the case that this was the decade that shaped the NBA to the empowered and exciting league that it is today. She does an excellent job outlining the rise of Black superstars during an era of widespread resistance to racial desegregation where majority white coaches, owners, media, and fans were more critical then ever of the new style of ball being played. At the time many Black players learned to play basketball in their neighborhood courts; with uneven surfaces, bent rims, and other conditions that gave them an improvisational style filled with razzle dazzle. Now considered a hallmark of the sport, at the time, it was unconventional and viewed negatively because white players and fans were not used to seeing or playing that way. Black Ball also dives deep into labor rights, the war on drugs, and masculinity as they relate to basketball. Flawlessly narrated by Xenia Willacey who intones excitement and enthusiasm onto every syllable. This narrative nonfiction book is perfect not just for sports fans, but for those interested in reading about Black excellence. Sports writing at its finest.
April 17, 2023
Loved this story of the racial politics of having a majority black league with a majority white ownership and fan base (and sportswriters) in the 70s and the says it mirrored broader society… spoiler alert, a lot will sound pretty familiar today.
January 12, 2024
Super interesting. This combines lots of my favorite things: basketball, history, and social justice. At times there was detail where I’m not sure it added and others where I wish we learned more but that could be bc my historical interest is 60s/70s and on rather than earlier 20th century.
July 23, 2024
A fascinating look at some of the early years of the ABA and the NBA, with a sharp eye to issues of race and labor. Introduced me to a number of players I wasn't deeply familiar with, and told a very compelling story of the league(s) well before I was born.
July 11, 2023
Took me a while to finish this. A vivid description of 1970's basketball and how greater trends in Black American culture shaped the present and future of the game.
December 13, 2023
An essential book for anyone who is a fan of today's NBA!
(Written by a professor at American University who was
a former member of the Toronto Raptors Dance Pak!)
(Written by a professor at American University who was
a former member of the Toronto Raptors Dance Pak!)
October 31, 2024
Re-read this book a 2nd team, to discuss with friends and discovered many things I missed or over looked the 1st time..
Very enlightening and informative history the fight NBA players of Africa decent have endured and fought from their entry into the NBA. It also demonstrates the parallels of race in society and politics with sports. This book should be required or at least recommended for athletes in all sports.
Very enlightening and informative history the fight NBA players of Africa decent have endured and fought from their entry into the NBA. It also demonstrates the parallels of race in society and politics with sports. This book should be required or at least recommended for athletes in all sports.
February 12, 2024
Like many history books on very specific topics, this one offered far more details than I needed, but I can appreciate how that is part of its purpose. Even more so, I appreciate the broad historical themes it demonstrated, especially learning how much racial “culture war” issues of the ‘70s were trying to be worked out within the realm of sports. It seems there are lessons that could be learned and perspective to be gained as we continue that work today.
November 22, 2022
This book takes critical race theory to the NBA of the 1960s and NBA and ABA of the 1970s and sends a stark message about how biased the news coverage was in those days. We know that the owners were racist, or at least simply underestimated the intelligence and commitment of Black players, but it's revelatory how the sports media and mass media fed those same lines. For any basketball fan over age 40, this book will bring back names of players and incidents, but with details and a fresh perspective that was missed in the frenzy of the times. This could be about the cocaine scandals in the '80s, the Kermit Washington punch, the flamboyance of Daryl Dawkins, or the high guaranteed salaries of Black rookie stars. All of it was treated through a racist lens at the time, and this book starts to correct the narrative (though a few foresighted folks were skeptical of the narrative then, and the author gives them their due).
The subtitle of the book is very misleading. The book isn't about the "soul" of the NBA, unless that's meant to be the power of the players, rather than the owners. If the players are the soul of the NBA, and they got more power through union activity in the '60s-'80s, then that's soul, I guess. But I think of the NBA as pretty soul-less and packaged today, so I don't see how soul was saved.
If by soul, the title references a hand-to-mouth existence playing in dingy stadiums in minor cities, then it wasn't much of a soul worth saving anyway. The title is also misleading in that it implies an outsized role for Kareen and Spencer Haywood, neither of whom gets more air time than Connie Hawkins, Bernard King, Kermit Washington, or others.
But a flawed title does not make for a flawed book. This is excellent stuff. I think the Connie Hawkins chapter might be the most damning about the powers that be, as it discusses his stardom as a high schooler in Brooklyn; the allegations that he introduced gamblers to ballplayers which led to banishment from college and blackballing from pro ball for years; and then his triumphant return to pro ball, marred by injury. It's an American tragedy. The story also reveals what the author calls the interlocking monopolies that white men held on the NCAA and pro basketball -- a collusion to keep players in college for four years, where they played for free, and then to be drafted into the NBA, which kept their wages down by not letting them negotiate one team against another.
As basketball fans know, this situation changed in 1967, when the ABA was formed. With competition for their services, players could pit one league against the other. Their salaries rose, and Black players especially were able to take advantage. At the same time, they gained more freedom in how they played because ABA teams wanted to distinguish their league from the NBA in style of play; and they also had more Black players per team. This book does a good job of explaining how this came to be and about iconic moments, such as Dr. J's winning dunk in the inaugural Slam Dunk Contest.
The Kareem material is interesting, but it leaves you wanting more. He was (is) such a fascinating guy. He was (is) angry, due to racial slights off the court and the violent, physical play he faced on it. In the '70s, he was apparently more outspoken than most players on both counts, and this led him to be criticized by the white media as spoiled, violent, petulant, etc. Now he's seen as an elder statesman, so it's important to understand what went before, and to commend him for following his intellectual pursuits that were doubted by many. I'd like to read a full Kareen biography. Maybe I'll start with Kareem's autobiography, but I feel that maybe the author of "Black Ball" should undertake the task, as she did one about boxer Jack Johnson.
A lot of books and magazine articles about the history of the NBA mention how weak the league was until Magic Johnson and Larry Bird arrived in 1979, how games were on tape delay, etc. This is unimaginable to kids and young adults today, as the NBA is hyped relentlessly and sets all sorts of cultural standards. What's great about "Black Ball" is that it gives the history of the 25 years before Magic and Bird, and it tells about the heroes of that earlier quarter-century period, and how they set the up the NBA to succeed by fighting for their rights, their individualism on the court and off, and by compromising when appropriate. This is an excellent social history as well as sports history.
The subtitle of the book is very misleading. The book isn't about the "soul" of the NBA, unless that's meant to be the power of the players, rather than the owners. If the players are the soul of the NBA, and they got more power through union activity in the '60s-'80s, then that's soul, I guess. But I think of the NBA as pretty soul-less and packaged today, so I don't see how soul was saved.
If by soul, the title references a hand-to-mouth existence playing in dingy stadiums in minor cities, then it wasn't much of a soul worth saving anyway. The title is also misleading in that it implies an outsized role for Kareen and Spencer Haywood, neither of whom gets more air time than Connie Hawkins, Bernard King, Kermit Washington, or others.
But a flawed title does not make for a flawed book. This is excellent stuff. I think the Connie Hawkins chapter might be the most damning about the powers that be, as it discusses his stardom as a high schooler in Brooklyn; the allegations that he introduced gamblers to ballplayers which led to banishment from college and blackballing from pro ball for years; and then his triumphant return to pro ball, marred by injury. It's an American tragedy. The story also reveals what the author calls the interlocking monopolies that white men held on the NCAA and pro basketball -- a collusion to keep players in college for four years, where they played for free, and then to be drafted into the NBA, which kept their wages down by not letting them negotiate one team against another.
As basketball fans know, this situation changed in 1967, when the ABA was formed. With competition for their services, players could pit one league against the other. Their salaries rose, and Black players especially were able to take advantage. At the same time, they gained more freedom in how they played because ABA teams wanted to distinguish their league from the NBA in style of play; and they also had more Black players per team. This book does a good job of explaining how this came to be and about iconic moments, such as Dr. J's winning dunk in the inaugural Slam Dunk Contest.
The Kareem material is interesting, but it leaves you wanting more. He was (is) such a fascinating guy. He was (is) angry, due to racial slights off the court and the violent, physical play he faced on it. In the '70s, he was apparently more outspoken than most players on both counts, and this led him to be criticized by the white media as spoiled, violent, petulant, etc. Now he's seen as an elder statesman, so it's important to understand what went before, and to commend him for following his intellectual pursuits that were doubted by many. I'd like to read a full Kareen biography. Maybe I'll start with Kareem's autobiography, but I feel that maybe the author of "Black Ball" should undertake the task, as she did one about boxer Jack Johnson.
A lot of books and magazine articles about the history of the NBA mention how weak the league was until Magic Johnson and Larry Bird arrived in 1979, how games were on tape delay, etc. This is unimaginable to kids and young adults today, as the NBA is hyped relentlessly and sets all sorts of cultural standards. What's great about "Black Ball" is that it gives the history of the 25 years before Magic and Bird, and it tells about the heroes of that earlier quarter-century period, and how they set the up the NBA to succeed by fighting for their rights, their individualism on the court and off, and by compromising when appropriate. This is an excellent social history as well as sports history.
July 11, 2023
Illuminating 1970s history of the NBA’s sports labor movement, and the Black men who painstakingly reshaped the industry during their careers and beyond.
Very readable, enjoyable (not dry) nonfiction with a thematic structure. There are 7 titled chapters: Exile, Hardship, Bondage, Troubled, Professional, Criminal, Undisciplined. All chapters open with an epigraph-style primary source quote. All focus on a player (or several) and a landmark labor rights issue and/or legal case.
The storytelling is gripping and scrupulously backed by footnote citations.
The book is so quotable. Have your pens and highlighters ready. The writing feels expansive and literary. It’s full of moments that blend poetic language with primary source information.
The book doesn’t lose steam. It kept me turning pages until the end.
The hindsight in this book is clear and very eye opening. There’s no mud in these waters. The narrative consistently draws out the connections (both direct and indirect) between watershed NBA moments and the cultural/political impacts of these moments far outside the world of the sport.
I loved the range of stories and how profiles, especially in the latter half of the book, extend well beyond household names. The stories of Deputy Commissioner Simon Gourdine (Ch 5) and dedicated community organizer, youth mentor, and player Wali Jones (Ch 4) are forever etched into my memory. The complex legacies of these two men felt (maliciously) erased from popular narrative: I had never heard of them before and neither had my friend I buddy ready the book with. Their stories shined in this book. I was grateful they were part of the narrative.
Very satisfying epilogue. The ending brings every chapter full circle, showing the legacy of the 1970’s players had on the state of today’s game.
6-Degrees of Separation with Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah:
There were lots of “Chain-Gang All-Stars moments” in this book. The abolitionist novel by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah was fresh on my mind, as I read it too the last month, and the books were definitely in conversation. Black Ball deeply explores the confining, policing, and punishment of players and slavery parallels that existed inside NBA.
Here’s a Chapter 6, p 237 quote that made me think of the novel: “As behaviorist and UCLA psychiatry professor Arnold Beisser hypothesized, 'The socio-economic distance is so great between most fans and highly paid athletes… that the athletes don’t seem like real people. So the fans are more apt to be callous toward them.’ This ‘class warfare’ in the sporting realm echoed broader social tensions amid 1970s deindustrialization and stagflation and the white backlash against racial integration.”
And another quote from Chapter 5, p 184 that mentions gladiators and enslavement also conjured memories of the novel in my mind. The book quote below features Rev. Jesse Jackson’s view on the NBA’s “vertical segregation” from a magazine interview:
“This racial division of labor funneled all the profits into white hands and also served to reinforce long-standing white perceptions of Black inferiority: 'For white people to control the money, to control the management and to control the image apparatus is to really have us in slavery and limit us to the state of gladiators.’”
Very readable, enjoyable (not dry) nonfiction with a thematic structure. There are 7 titled chapters: Exile, Hardship, Bondage, Troubled, Professional, Criminal, Undisciplined. All chapters open with an epigraph-style primary source quote. All focus on a player (or several) and a landmark labor rights issue and/or legal case.
The storytelling is gripping and scrupulously backed by footnote citations.
The book is so quotable. Have your pens and highlighters ready. The writing feels expansive and literary. It’s full of moments that blend poetic language with primary source information.
The book doesn’t lose steam. It kept me turning pages until the end.
The hindsight in this book is clear and very eye opening. There’s no mud in these waters. The narrative consistently draws out the connections (both direct and indirect) between watershed NBA moments and the cultural/political impacts of these moments far outside the world of the sport.
I loved the range of stories and how profiles, especially in the latter half of the book, extend well beyond household names. The stories of Deputy Commissioner Simon Gourdine (Ch 5) and dedicated community organizer, youth mentor, and player Wali Jones (Ch 4) are forever etched into my memory. The complex legacies of these two men felt (maliciously) erased from popular narrative: I had never heard of them before and neither had my friend I buddy ready the book with. Their stories shined in this book. I was grateful they were part of the narrative.
Very satisfying epilogue. The ending brings every chapter full circle, showing the legacy of the 1970’s players had on the state of today’s game.
6-Degrees of Separation with Chain-Gang All-Stars by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah:
There were lots of “Chain-Gang All-Stars moments” in this book. The abolitionist novel by Nana Kwame Adjei-Brenyah was fresh on my mind, as I read it too the last month, and the books were definitely in conversation. Black Ball deeply explores the confining, policing, and punishment of players and slavery parallels that existed inside NBA.
Here’s a Chapter 6, p 237 quote that made me think of the novel: “As behaviorist and UCLA psychiatry professor Arnold Beisser hypothesized, 'The socio-economic distance is so great between most fans and highly paid athletes… that the athletes don’t seem like real people. So the fans are more apt to be callous toward them.’ This ‘class warfare’ in the sporting realm echoed broader social tensions amid 1970s deindustrialization and stagflation and the white backlash against racial integration.”
And another quote from Chapter 5, p 184 that mentions gladiators and enslavement also conjured memories of the novel in my mind. The book quote below features Rev. Jesse Jackson’s view on the NBA’s “vertical segregation” from a magazine interview:
“This racial division of labor funneled all the profits into white hands and also served to reinforce long-standing white perceptions of Black inferiority: 'For white people to control the money, to control the management and to control the image apparatus is to really have us in slavery and limit us to the state of gladiators.’”
March 13, 2023
(Audiobook) This work is a good example of the Paul Harvey phrase “…And now, the Rest of the Story”. When it comes to the 1970s, especially the late-1970s, when Russell and Chamberlain no longer ruled the paint and the NBA really lacked a dominant team, the narrative tends to paint a picture of a struggling league. The game saw too much showboating for players, who lacked discipline on the court to play anything resembling organized pro ball. This of course presumes that the players were not all strung out on drugs as part of an endemic drug problem in the league, mainly with the African-American players.
Yet, that would not be entirely accurate. In some respects, the NBA and its short-lived rival, the ABA, were ahead of their other pro sports peers in the realm of African-American advancement and power in the game. In this work, Runstedtler attacks the “narrative” with ferocity. Players such as Spenser Haywood and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar were not just “angry, entitled Black players”, but men seeking fair compensation and respect for their contributions and efforts. They did not take to the long-standing racist actions of the white ownership, who engaged in the age-old battle to keep salaries down and their profits high. The players fought and organized to defeat the reserve system and gain a degree of economic and social equality in the game.
The players had their issues, but many were overblown and distorted by the league ownership and the relatively hostile sports press. The drop in ratings and revenue came as much from the poor business practices of the owners and the league as it did from any indiscretions of the players. The cocaine accusations were especially damaging, for while the reports were not completely accurate, the perception was difficult to defeat.
Runstedtler does a masterful job of combining the sporting analysis with the socio-economic history concerns of the game in this narrative. I certainly learned a great deal about the game, and it is definitely a different way to look at the state of the game. Of note, being a die-hard Rockets fan, and a fan of Rudy Tomjanovich in particular, I never quite got the Kermit Washington side of the story related to the infamous “punch” that almost killed Rudy T, and all but killed the life of Kermit Washington. Washington was still in the wrong for that punch, but the narrative around him was justifiably unfair. If it had been just two white guys involved…likely a different scenario.
Some will not like this work for the “Critical Race Theory” aspect of the work, but the logic and reasoning behind this is solid. Black players made up most of the league at that time, and their prospective got lost in the narratives of that time. Many things have changed since then, and perhaps, it was the majority African-American NBA Players Association that did the most to advance the economic potential of all pro sports athletes.
A must read for the sports fan, especially the NBA. The author has deep connections with the Raptors, but this Rockets fan won’t hold that against her.
Yet, that would not be entirely accurate. In some respects, the NBA and its short-lived rival, the ABA, were ahead of their other pro sports peers in the realm of African-American advancement and power in the game. In this work, Runstedtler attacks the “narrative” with ferocity. Players such as Spenser Haywood and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar were not just “angry, entitled Black players”, but men seeking fair compensation and respect for their contributions and efforts. They did not take to the long-standing racist actions of the white ownership, who engaged in the age-old battle to keep salaries down and their profits high. The players fought and organized to defeat the reserve system and gain a degree of economic and social equality in the game.
The players had their issues, but many were overblown and distorted by the league ownership and the relatively hostile sports press. The drop in ratings and revenue came as much from the poor business practices of the owners and the league as it did from any indiscretions of the players. The cocaine accusations were especially damaging, for while the reports were not completely accurate, the perception was difficult to defeat.
Runstedtler does a masterful job of combining the sporting analysis with the socio-economic history concerns of the game in this narrative. I certainly learned a great deal about the game, and it is definitely a different way to look at the state of the game. Of note, being a die-hard Rockets fan, and a fan of Rudy Tomjanovich in particular, I never quite got the Kermit Washington side of the story related to the infamous “punch” that almost killed Rudy T, and all but killed the life of Kermit Washington. Washington was still in the wrong for that punch, but the narrative around him was justifiably unfair. If it had been just two white guys involved…likely a different scenario.
Some will not like this work for the “Critical Race Theory” aspect of the work, but the logic and reasoning behind this is solid. Black players made up most of the league at that time, and their prospective got lost in the narratives of that time. Many things have changed since then, and perhaps, it was the majority African-American NBA Players Association that did the most to advance the economic potential of all pro sports athletes.
A must read for the sports fan, especially the NBA. The author has deep connections with the Raptors, but this Rockets fan won’t hold that against her.
March 25, 2023
Enjoyed this one: it challenges the idea of the 1970s as the "dark age" of NBA basketball. In this narrative, the NBA reached its nadir in the 70s because of drugs, criminality, and anxiety about the league becoming "too black." TR reframes this era, not as an untroubled one, but as a time of struggle and reformation for the NBA and for the game of basketball itself that set up the larger successes of the 1980s. She profiles issues like labor-owner disputes, the reserve clause (which all but allowed teams to keep a player forever), monopolies (The NBA tried to merge with the ABA so it could have a monopoly, but players sued under anti-trust laws), and the hardship rule. There was a really good chapter about SPencer Haywood's seemingly good contract with Houston then in the ABA, in which he was promised lifetime payments but given no control over the money. Overall, TR shows the league and the owners' rather condescending attitude toward black players, who ostensibly needed adult supervision and a tough-on-crime approach. TR also writes a lot about drug use and fighting in the league in the 70s, noting the overlaps with the War on Drugs. She makes the great point that fighting in hockey (a mostly white sport) has never been seen as a big deal (it's part of the game, they say), but fighting in basketball (a mostly black sport) has. Hmmm that's interesting...but it gets at the NBA's recurring problem of being a black league in a white world (even more pronounced back then, when the US was less diverse).
However, without the 70s, modern ball wouldn't be what it is today. Not only did the game become more dynamic and fun with the introduction of the "street" way of playing, it also adopted a "black masculine cool" that later became incredibly popular in the 80s and 90s. Player rights expanded, as did their willingness to speak up and assert their identities. In short, without the changes of the 70s, Bird, Magic, and Johnson would have played on very different terrain.
This is not a fun sports book like Jeff Pearlman's stuff, for example. The focus is on the legal, social, and cultural issues and discourses surrounding the game. It's more about the NBA as an institution and place of competition over power and resources. But if you are interested in that kind of stuff (as I am), you'll probably dig this book.
However, without the 70s, modern ball wouldn't be what it is today. Not only did the game become more dynamic and fun with the introduction of the "street" way of playing, it also adopted a "black masculine cool" that later became incredibly popular in the 80s and 90s. Player rights expanded, as did their willingness to speak up and assert their identities. In short, without the changes of the 70s, Bird, Magic, and Johnson would have played on very different terrain.
This is not a fun sports book like Jeff Pearlman's stuff, for example. The focus is on the legal, social, and cultural issues and discourses surrounding the game. It's more about the NBA as an institution and place of competition over power and resources. But if you are interested in that kind of stuff (as I am), you'll probably dig this book.
December 16, 2023
This was an impulse grab from the new books section at the library... this is the generation of the game just before I was born, and I love good ABA stories.
The 1st half of the book was focused on the ABA and how it changed the game in the context of contracts, and was pretty interesting. Contrary to the title though, the author was pointing out racial discrimination in the NBA, and by its fans, not anything about the style changes. In fact, the focus (through a few very specific examples), was about how the white management discriminated against the black players.
While I definitely don't deny that is the case, the book did not make a good argument. The very focused examples and lack of context definitely diluted the authors message. For instance, the entire section on how cocaine was a problem in the league was focused on Bernard King, and just a brief mention of a couple other players.. no mention at all of David Thompson (the poster child in my mind for the era). It also did alot of saying the black players got treated differently without showing any examples.
Like when taking about fighting in the league.. the author made a good point about how such activity was acceptable in Hockey, but the didn't follow it through. One my earliest memories of basketball was the fight between Kevin McHale and Kurt Rambis (both white).. that would be a great example of the lack of punishment there as opposite to Kermit Washington or Daryl Dawkins (the focuses in the book) but it wasn't mentioned at all
Last, and certainly most important, how do you talk about 'Black Ball' and barely mention Bill Russell...he would be an ideal example for talking about a 'white ceiling' in management, but there was barely a mention. The author did talk about KC Jones supposedly getting blackballed after
losing the NBA finals.. but then I know he was the head coach for Boston later for some time, and they seemed to forget that, only mentioning he hired on as an assistant there because no one else would hire him.
Still, there was definitely some great stuff about the ABA/NBA feud and alot of legal details on the merger that were really interesting that I hadn't read before, so that was a plus.
The 1st half of the book was focused on the ABA and how it changed the game in the context of contracts, and was pretty interesting. Contrary to the title though, the author was pointing out racial discrimination in the NBA, and by its fans, not anything about the style changes. In fact, the focus (through a few very specific examples), was about how the white management discriminated against the black players.
While I definitely don't deny that is the case, the book did not make a good argument. The very focused examples and lack of context definitely diluted the authors message. For instance, the entire section on how cocaine was a problem in the league was focused on Bernard King, and just a brief mention of a couple other players.. no mention at all of David Thompson (the poster child in my mind for the era). It also did alot of saying the black players got treated differently without showing any examples.
Like when taking about fighting in the league.. the author made a good point about how such activity was acceptable in Hockey, but the didn't follow it through. One my earliest memories of basketball was the fight between Kevin McHale and Kurt Rambis (both white).. that would be a great example of the lack of punishment there as opposite to Kermit Washington or Daryl Dawkins (the focuses in the book) but it wasn't mentioned at all
Last, and certainly most important, how do you talk about 'Black Ball' and barely mention Bill Russell...he would be an ideal example for talking about a 'white ceiling' in management, but there was barely a mention. The author did talk about KC Jones supposedly getting blackballed after
losing the NBA finals.. but then I know he was the head coach for Boston later for some time, and they seemed to forget that, only mentioning he hired on as an assistant there because no one else would hire him.
Still, there was definitely some great stuff about the ABA/NBA feud and alot of legal details on the merger that were really interesting that I hadn't read before, so that was a plus.
Want to read
January 24, 2023Black Ball by Theresa Runstedtler tells the story of the racial transformation of pro basketball both on and off the court with a particular focus on how Black players changed the politics of the game in the 1970s.
Runstedtler does a phenomenal job sharing the history of the ABA and how it came together in the spring of 1967. She provides a well-researched background around the politics that resulted in the eventual merger of the ABA with the NBA. I really enjoyed reading about the political shifts this merger required, the advocacy of the athletes for themselves and for the younger generation of Black athletes coming after them, the role particular players such as Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Spencer Haywood had on the political climate, and the impact this all had on Black America as a whole. To the present day, Black athletes continue to fight for their autonomy, equity, and economic rights and this powerhouse of a nonfiction book really provides readers with a well-rounded understanding of why.
Another aspect of this book that makes it special is who Theresa Runstedler is and the unique perspective she offers as an African American history scholar and researcher. Runstedler shares that the 1998-1999 NBA Lockout happened during her second season as a Toronto Raptors dancer when she was just twenty-three years old. She witnessed first hand the fight occurred between team owners and players. She saw for herself how the media tried to wrongfully portray the players as being greedy and ungrateful when all they were doing was fighting for their rights. As a reader, you can feel the conviction in Runstedler's research. Any lover of the game will enjoy this book. It's definitely one to add to the bookshelf collection of any sports lover!
Thank you so much to the author and publisher for the e-arc copy!
Runstedtler does a phenomenal job sharing the history of the ABA and how it came together in the spring of 1967. She provides a well-researched background around the politics that resulted in the eventual merger of the ABA with the NBA. I really enjoyed reading about the political shifts this merger required, the advocacy of the athletes for themselves and for the younger generation of Black athletes coming after them, the role particular players such as Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Spencer Haywood had on the political climate, and the impact this all had on Black America as a whole. To the present day, Black athletes continue to fight for their autonomy, equity, and economic rights and this powerhouse of a nonfiction book really provides readers with a well-rounded understanding of why.
Another aspect of this book that makes it special is who Theresa Runstedler is and the unique perspective she offers as an African American history scholar and researcher. Runstedler shares that the 1998-1999 NBA Lockout happened during her second season as a Toronto Raptors dancer when she was just twenty-three years old. She witnessed first hand the fight occurred between team owners and players. She saw for herself how the media tried to wrongfully portray the players as being greedy and ungrateful when all they were doing was fighting for their rights. As a reader, you can feel the conviction in Runstedler's research. Any lover of the game will enjoy this book. It's definitely one to add to the bookshelf collection of any sports lover!
Thank you so much to the author and publisher for the e-arc copy!
July 9, 2023
Black Ball is not a basketball book. It's a political history book told through basketball in the 1970s. The characters are familiar names, but there aren't going to be many stats or descriptions of game action. To like this book you'll have to be comfortable with that.
That was fine with me. This book details the race and labour politics at a time of great change in America and especially in Black America. Runstedtler has done an incredible amount of research into the behind the scenes games being played between the owners and the players. The level of control carried by the owners over their players is tough to comprehend in our era of mega contracts and players having easy control over their careers. What was a real eye opener to me though was the fans disregard and outright hostility to the players for trying to gain what would now seem like modest wages and labour rights. The ability to be a free agent and negotiate with more than one team. How was anyone ever against that idea anyway?
The book does slightly fade in the final two chapters, dealing with violence on the court (most notably Kermit Washington's infamous punch) and drug use. The quality of the writing doesn't fade but I wasn't persuaded that the aftermath of the punch was unfair and tinted with racism. I didn't agree that a blind suckerpunch needed any explanation of the events leading to it. The humanizing of Washington was excellent though, we can sometimes forget that good people can do bad things and sincerely regret them afterwards. The final chapter on drug use almost felt tacked on to get to the 300 page book length. I don't see how listing the drug problems of individual Black men told the story of late 1970s drug use. I think that whole chapter could have been better.
Black Ball exceeded my expectations and them some. I'd recommend it more to David McCullough fans than Bill Simmons fans though. Just be aware of what sort of book you're getting here.
Oh and also, one of the better book covers I've ever seen. Simple and absolutely represents the time and topic inside. 1970s for sure.
That was fine with me. This book details the race and labour politics at a time of great change in America and especially in Black America. Runstedtler has done an incredible amount of research into the behind the scenes games being played between the owners and the players. The level of control carried by the owners over their players is tough to comprehend in our era of mega contracts and players having easy control over their careers. What was a real eye opener to me though was the fans disregard and outright hostility to the players for trying to gain what would now seem like modest wages and labour rights. The ability to be a free agent and negotiate with more than one team. How was anyone ever against that idea anyway?
The book does slightly fade in the final two chapters, dealing with violence on the court (most notably Kermit Washington's infamous punch) and drug use. The quality of the writing doesn't fade but I wasn't persuaded that the aftermath of the punch was unfair and tinted with racism. I didn't agree that a blind suckerpunch needed any explanation of the events leading to it. The humanizing of Washington was excellent though, we can sometimes forget that good people can do bad things and sincerely regret them afterwards. The final chapter on drug use almost felt tacked on to get to the 300 page book length. I don't see how listing the drug problems of individual Black men told the story of late 1970s drug use. I think that whole chapter could have been better.
Black Ball exceeded my expectations and them some. I'd recommend it more to David McCullough fans than Bill Simmons fans though. Just be aware of what sort of book you're getting here.
Oh and also, one of the better book covers I've ever seen. Simple and absolutely represents the time and topic inside. 1970s for sure.
September 9, 2023
🤯👩🏽🎓
Whoa- let me put my own failure out there. Runstedtler did incredible research- 30 pages of citations is pretty impressive for a 300 page book. Her interpretation of the impact of Black players in the 1970s is incredible and spot on.
So I get to the end, and she reveals that she was a Raptors dancer/cheerleader and my jaw dropped. Because... of my ingrained societal expectations. But this is actually one of the better sports books I have read, and a superb microtopic book.
My only criticism is that Runstedtler's final chapter is so negative and her conclusion is so abrupt. We don't actually get to revel and appreciate the long term benefits that the courage and persistence of Black basketball players had on all sports, pop culture and society. Runstedtler is at her best when she acknowledges all of these different impacts.
The book chronicles the rise of the Black basketball player, like Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Oscar Robertson and Daryl Dawkins and the role the ABA played in allowing them to crusade for reasonable pay and decent treatment.
As a kid born in Chicago in 1981, I have investment in Jordan being the greatest of all time. But if Muhammad Ali is The Greatest, not just because of talent, but because he was a symbol, maybe Jabbar and Robertson deserve more consideration. Everything Magic and Jordan accomplished was on the backs of players who were just as talented, but who faced much more adversity.
I hope Runstedtler takes on more topics like this.
Whoa- let me put my own failure out there. Runstedtler did incredible research- 30 pages of citations is pretty impressive for a 300 page book. Her interpretation of the impact of Black players in the 1970s is incredible and spot on.
So I get to the end, and she reveals that she was a Raptors dancer/cheerleader and my jaw dropped. Because... of my ingrained societal expectations. But this is actually one of the better sports books I have read, and a superb microtopic book.
My only criticism is that Runstedtler's final chapter is so negative and her conclusion is so abrupt. We don't actually get to revel and appreciate the long term benefits that the courage and persistence of Black basketball players had on all sports, pop culture and society. Runstedtler is at her best when she acknowledges all of these different impacts.
The book chronicles the rise of the Black basketball player, like Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Oscar Robertson and Daryl Dawkins and the role the ABA played in allowing them to crusade for reasonable pay and decent treatment.
As a kid born in Chicago in 1981, I have investment in Jordan being the greatest of all time. But if Muhammad Ali is The Greatest, not just because of talent, but because he was a symbol, maybe Jabbar and Robertson deserve more consideration. Everything Magic and Jordan accomplished was on the backs of players who were just as talented, but who faced much more adversity.
I hope Runstedtler takes on more topics like this.
February 23, 2024
The 70s were a tumultuous period for labor relations in all the major sports as the players wrenched a bit of control from owners for the first time. What made the NBA’s experience unique was that it was the only major league dominated by black players, which unfortunately provided an outlet for the racism of the period. This book is a highly readable retelling of the complicated experiences of Connie Hawkins, Spencer Haywood, Kermit Washington, and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. As a throwaway sports history, the book is fine. However, there’s an odd narrative film over the book because the author is revisiting all this through the lens of current progressive thinking. A period of time when there were serious concerns for the survival of the league due to fan apathy driven by the excessive violence and player drug abuse is reframed into a period that ’saved’ the NBA. Really? The league’s trajectory changed when Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, and then Michael Jordan presented a very different product than the NBA of the 70's.
March 29, 2023
Excellent book. Runstedtler rewrites the 70s, in standard history seen as the down period between the Celtics dynasty and Magic/Bird and then Jordan, as a period of labor and cultural militancy (great stuff on Spencer Haywood, whose story I knew in only the most rudimentary way) that involved challenging draft rules, putting off the merger (interestingly, Congress seemed stung by its quick passage of the AFL/NFL merger a decade before) by emphasizing their freedom to choose, and standing up for cultural freedom and identity. Powerful comparisons as well with the NHL (where on-ice violence was justified "policing"), unlike the NBA, where violence was identified with inner-city criminality. Also excellent discussion of differential policing and drug sentencing (and more, stereotyping extended to the entire league) in the late 70s and early 80s. Not sure I'd say there's really a "standard NBA narrative" out there to disrupt, but if there is, this is legitimately paradigm-shifting.
April 6, 2023
I read a lot of books about basketball and race. I haven't read anything that combines the two as well as this book. From Connie Hawkins to Spencer Haywood to Oscar Robertson to Kareem Adbul Jabbar, it shines a much needed light on the racism embedded in the sport. The NBA is thought of as the "progressive" and "black" league, but it really isn't either. It's much, much better now, but it still has a long ways to go. This book does a great job of describing how race affected the players and the game, how it tied into societal issues in general, and how the vast majority of the NBA's allegedly progressive changes were really economic ones, which they spun into paternal racial uplift.
It does occasionally go into too much detail on some topics, but that is my sole complaint. This is a great, interesting, important book. Give it a shot! I learned a lot, and like I said in the beginning, I read a LOT about basketball and race (among other topics). 9/10.
It does occasionally go into too much detail on some topics, but that is my sole complaint. This is a great, interesting, important book. Give it a shot! I learned a lot, and like I said in the beginning, I read a LOT about basketball and race (among other topics). 9/10.
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