Ben Detrick - The Joy of Basketball: An Encyclopedia of the Modern Game

Growing up in the Bronx, we had no basketball hoops. If you had one, someone would steal it. It wasnt always safe going to the park in the hood because of stray shots and shit. On my block, there was a sign on one of the buildings that said Absolutely No Ball Playing. So, we decided that it would be the hoopif the basketball hit that sign, it counted. We played 21 against it with full basketball rules and had a little tournament. Thats the beauty of basketball. It doesnt take much to play. Its almost the perfect sport.

My house has always been a Knicks house. Ive been going to games all my life with my sisters and my mom. You didnt really care if they won or lost. Weve always gone for the atmosphere. There might be a fight in the stands, or you got a chance to boo Isiah Thomas. It was a great way to get your New York frustrations out. Being a Knicks fan has given me a greater appreciation for basketball: you learn about the fundamentals, you learn about playmaking, you learn about the things that your team should be doing.

The most impressive thing Ive seen was when Melo set the arenas scoring record. It was just a random night against the Charlotte Bobcats, but it was such a group experience. I stood up for every shot and youre high-fiving people youve never seen in your life (now that weve been through COVID, I figure thats how things spread). And then there were the bad days, like when J. R. Reid had the heavy foul on the virgin A. C. Green and knocked his front teeth out.

Ive been in the same section since before Desus & Mero, before the podcast, before any of this. There are security guards that just know me as a very aggressive Knicks fan that loves to drink and eat steak sandwiches. But theyre the ones who will say, low-key, I saw what you did with Obama and Im proud of you. You made my day. Going to Madison Square Garden is just a love affair. All the fans rock with us, the celebrities rock with us. Im one of the few people who can get teary-eyed when I see Steve Schirripa. The fans have the same energy whether its Red Panda kicking a ball off her head at halftime or a Game 7.

The last Knicks game I went to was the day Kobe died. It was one of the saddest games Ive ever been to, but everyone at Madison Square Garden carried themselves with a sense of respect and reverence. We lost someone who did something here on the biggest stage. No other arena really feels like that. No shots fired, but you dont really have people dying to go to an arena in Memphis. We go so hard as Knicks fans because we love that place.

My favorite Knicks player of all-time is Latrell Sprewell. He played with such reckless abandon. And every time he came down the court, he looked like he was going to murder someone. He could jump so high and he had those braids. At the time, he looked like what people were telling us to be terrified of in the Central Park wilding and things like that. He was just the personification of anger in the NBA. And from a non-basketball perspective, the idea that he choked out his bosswe could all relate to that. He also had sneakers that had spinning rims and went on to be one of the biggest tax scofflaws. Just because he stopped playing, it doesnt mean he stopped being great.

That generation brought a new energy and new blood to the game. This sounds like the worst cliche from a Rolling Stone writer from 1991, but it felt like the Hip-Hop-ification of basketball. The underlying aspects of the culture changed and it just became cooler. When Allen Iverson came into the league, it was one of the first times you looked on the court and saw yourself. He looked like one of your homies that literally came off the corner and was lighting people up. He didnt change or anything, got the same outfit on. We carry ourselves the same.

Your heroes became human. They became accessible. Theyre not deities like Larry Bird, Magic Johnson, and Michael Jordan. But then you saw them on the court and they could play. Like the first time when A.I. crossed up Jordanthat was scientifically not supposed to happen. It changed how you rooted for teams and what it meant to be an NBA fan. Its similar to when you went from Nintendo to Xbox: same video games, but it was completely different.

I miss the physicality of the old games, but they were just straight-up having fistfights without fouls being called. Its wild to watch now. We remember it as majestic and poetic. We remember Magic Johnson doing this skyhook. But are these our actual memories or have they been carefully edited by the NBA and put over a beautiful score by John Tesh? If you look back, the games were ugly. The players were ugly. The outfits were ugly. It was a rougher sport for a rougher worldtake an elbow to the face and keep it moving.

I dont want to say todays game is polished, but its more fine-tuned. Theres more precision. Its like someone playing the violin, lightly plucking the strings and just floating. I love the pacing and spacing. Anyone could hit a 3. Now you get the chance to see Damian Lillard shoot the ball from the opposite locker room and its one that he regularly hits. But no player is completely unstoppable. The game kind of balances itself, like a physical game of chess. If you watch it enough, it turns into The Queens Gambityou see Xs and Os on the court. If an old, stodgy curmudgeon like myself can come around to it, anyone can.

In the past, players didnt have the power they have today. You never had Kyrie Irving saying, Yo, Im taking a personal day. If that had happened in the eighties, Ronald Reagan would have had his house bombed. You werent allowed to be an individual. You were just a player with a number on your back and you did what the coach and the organization said. And now you see players actually picking their destiny, deciding where theyre going, and who theyre playing with. Its not a bad thing.