Basketball Jones & The Education Game

Editor's Note: The following poem is excerpted from Dick Barnett's book Without Rhyme or Reason.

The brother turned the corner and got to the air, his extension was breathtaking as he slammed with a flair. The crowd was on its feet cheering his every move, his jumper was dropping long and deep, he was in a fine groove. He faked left, he faked right and went for the kill, this game of basketball is a monster thrill.

He was somebody when he hit the court, his invisibility disappeared as he gained support.  The girls and his classmates admired his game, he attained acceptance and status and a bit of brief fame. He went to the court every day, honing his skills so he could make them pay.  There were no off days and time to relax, his moves and touch had to be exact. Four to five hours a day the brother would put in, sun, rain, and snow was part of the toll.

At the end of this ritual my man was bad, his game was complete, everybody could be had.  He was the talk and toast of the town, handshakes, publicity, and offers abound. But, his dedication had a regrettable flaw, his class work was shoddy, he couldn't even draw. He had played during English class, he slept while they reviewed Math, he desperately called on his partners and classmates to help him pass. They couldn't save him, he was too far behind, his vision was clouded, he didn't understand time.

The recruiters asked about the SATs and came knocking at his door, he did not qualify in the education game, he could not score. His GPA was lacking, his communications skills were tacky, his essays were disjointed, and thought processes wanting, his confidence and self esteem were ebbing, his future looked uncaring. The brother dropped out of the education game, he declared that books, homework, and the whole process was for a bunch of lames.

He cared not for the legacy and sacrifices of King, Truth, Malcolm, or Dubois, he wanted it all right now, that was his choice. He ventured out into the cruel mainstream, without skills, knowledge, and the ability to reign. He faced rejection and repudiation at every turn, the brother found that the hip hop lifestyle did not put him in a position to earn. The brother became desperate, the chains, earrings, and baggy pants, was not acceptable attire when you are trying to advance. He looked around, and viewed his own face, he started to reason, my luck is bad because of my race.