Why I Love Basketball

Kenneth Morris Brown loved basketball.

My older brother loved the game. Not in a trash talking fan kind of way. But he loved it in a way that when played the right right way, could be a symphony of five players moving on a court in perfect harmony with each other, the ball and the court itself.

My brother taught me the game of basketball.  The basics. How to set a pick. How to play defense. How to block out.  When I was about 8 or 9, Kenneth, who was 17 years my senior, would pick me up and take to me to Louisville’s Shawnee Park on a hot summer’s day to play basketball ball on the hot asphalt courts.  Some of the best lessons in life aren’t learned in a classroom or a laboratory. Sometimes, some of the greatest lessons come from one brother to another after a few full court games.

You have to stand up for yourself. Don’t expect anyone to do it for you.

You can come up with any excuse you want, but sometimes it comes down to that guy was simply better than you.

Passing the ball isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of being in control of all the players on your team and getting them in the position to score.

My brother loved point guards.  True point guards.  Not the hybrid, high scoring point guards that dominate the NBA and college today, but point guards that were in complete control of the game. Coaches on the court, if you will.  My brother’s favorite player was Isiah Thomas. I remember watching many Pistons games growing up and listening to Kenneth go on and on about how, even at his size, Thomas could see the floor like his taller contemporary, Magic Johnson.  My brother would tell to look at the different angles Isiah would use coming off a teammate’s pick, depending on where he court.

More than his love for Isiah Thomas, and his game, my brother loved the University of Louisville Cardinals. One of the highlights of his life was celebrating the school’s 1980 championship.  Growing up, he would take to Freedom Hall and we’d watch some of those great Cardinal teams of the early to mid 1980s dominate their competition in the Metro Conference. Some of the best memories of my life were made cheering on the Dirty Birds with my big brother.

My senior year of high school, I decided to attend the University of Kentucky. Needless to say, Kenneth wasn’t thrilled. Why would I want to go to UK? Was I actually going to cheer on the Cats? What’s there to do in Lexington? He was concerned, but supported my decision, even visiting a few times that first semester, mostly in a vain attempt to find some UofL paraphernalia in Lexington/Fayette Co., but never succeeding. And then, the 1995-96 Men’s Basketball team happened. On my visits home and through phone calls, we’d go over the Cats wins, specifically how Anthony Epps was running the team (“he’s never out of position and always makes the right play”).  He celebrated with me when the Cats won in 1996 and again in 1998 when Tubby Smith led the Cats to the title. We had may lengthy discussions about the significance of an African-American coach coaching at UK, in light of some of the school and team were perceived by many African-Americans from the 1960s through the early 1990s. We always just agreed to disagree.

On March 14, 1999, the Kentucky Wildcats defeated the Kansas Jayhawks in overtime in the second round of the NCAA Tournament.  About 30 minutes later, my mother called me to tell me that my big brother had passed away due to a brain aneurysm.

I have to say that few days later, when the Cats lost to Michigan State in the Elite Eight, I wasn’t even mad about the game or all that upset. I honestly didn’t care. I didn’t care about a lot of things for the rest of that spring and into the summer. If you’ve ever lost a loved one, then you know what I’m talking about.

But, a funny thing happened in the fall.  Toward the end of football season, at the latter part of October, basketball returns. The NBA starts its training camps and colleges around the country celebrate midnight madness.  High schoolers tryout for their school’s teams and little boys and girls pick up a ball for the first time. And as the basketball season progressed, I started watching more and more games.  NBA games. Kentucky games. Even those random West coast games that ESPN shows at 11:30 after the late SportsCenter.  I even watched women’s college games and whatever other games I could catch in person or on TV.

When I watch a game now, I can still hear my brother’s voice screaming about proper rebounding technique and how you have to get your shoulders square to the basket prior to getting in your shooting motion. Basketball is more than a game, it’s a way that two brothers can find a way to bond, to relate to one another and share something that they both love. So, yeah, I love this game.