Pick-up in New York City is unparalleled. There are codes. They vary from court to court, but at some point they are spoken. “And 1” is not always the same as calling a “foul,” for instance. Miss an “And 1” and everyone might play on. Depends on the code of that court. If we’re playing by 1s and 2s and someone launches an uncontested 2 for game it’s viewed as bad form. That team got the win, but by no means was it an earned win. Game point should be decided not only by scoring, but by degree of difficulty. They can win on that 2, but earn it with a hand in the face. Almost all points are best decided by iso skills. It’s not like that everywhere, at least in my experience. But, New York feels strongly about it.
I can feel my game changing since I’ve been here. Those are always important moments in a hooper’s life. We feel the level up. I’ve always been skinny, like a six foot Chet Holmgren. Then, in my mid-20s my body changed. Filled out in the torso, legs stronger from commuting by bike, and my shoulders broadened. I could use my weight for the first time. That was 10 years ago. Since moving to New York in late March, I play different. I am a shooter by trade. But, I’m not trying to just be out there for open look knockdowns.
I never thought much about having a bag. New Yorkers, however, all have a bag. No one is out here looking to run motion or get into space and make cuts. They can do it, but most of the games here aren’t played to that tune. If basketball is jazz, as Thelonious Monk and Nick Nurse have claimed, then New York is all about the free jazz solos. We can always bring it back to the top, but in the meantime it’s “your world, work out.” And so, I’m playing differently. I’m thinking about my bag and what to put in it. And to those reading, there’s only one way to find out what’s in it.
At times, New York feels like trying to keep pace with Ornette Coleman. But, chasing that evolution to find my place in it is why I play. It’s the same reason I write. These games are evolving. There’s foundations to learn and appreciate. Being fundamentally sound is admirable. You can run with the rest. But, the point in all this is to do something that defines your identity. To make an imprint. The step beyond that is doing something never been done before; to God Shammgod. Inventions begin with small ideas. Sometimes that invention is purely instinctual, purely essence. It’s duende. Others are woodshedded in private until they are perfected. The unveiling becomes a conscious decision. But the point is to be on that quest. To explore within yourself and see what grows there. Bob Cousy couldn’t dribble with his left hand. The game got past that. Someday the handle of Kyrie Irving will be eclipsed.
I’m not saying that I’m going to invent a new move or style of play or style of writing. I’m also not saying that I’m trying—that I wake up, think invention, and go to sleep dreaming invention. I’m just noticing that the more I travel, the more places I live, and the more people I’m around, the richer my influences get. The sum of that has unlimited potential. I’m on a quest to find out how much human potential I possess. Buckminster Fuller believed that human potential was an infinite resource. We cannot imagine the magnitude of its possibility. We can, however, play. Go to new places to play. Learn new codes. Seek matchups that challenge us. Woodshed new approaches to playing. Be aware and receptive of messages, so that we can recognize the feeling of our own evolution. There is a feeling. Some poets call it duende.
Last weekend I was in a valley. I struggled in the morning pick-up runs. I left with a bloody knee and frustration. Days later, I’m still nursing this injury. It’s important to remember that when we’re developing a bag, it’s not always gonna go well. Changes have valleys. In those valleys it can feel like it’s not worth the effort. We feel like there is no duende. The peaks seem further out of reach. There is something important to remember when it comes to peaks and valleys. First of all, we are the sum of our influences, whether we are in the valley or at a peak. Second, between those places is the horizon. Think of the horizon as the fundamental constant; that place where our foundational skills reside.
When this wound doesn’t look like a wet mucus larva growing on my leg*, I’ll wrap it and go hoop. Pick-up in New York is unparalleled and I think about playing every day. It’s an impulse I’ve never felt before. I’m listening to a message that says go hoop. I have no idea why. I just know it’s what I need to do right now. I’m putting things in my bag that have unlimited potential.
*No worries, I saw a doctor and I’m on antibiotics.