Alaska Dispatches
# 13  —  21 January 2001

Hoop Dreams

I was visiting at my next-door neighbor’s house the other day, and he had an NBA game on the TV. The Lakers and Knicks were mixing it up pretty good, and during the second half my neighbor turned to me and said: “NBC must have a pretty old cameraman.” Noticing my blank stare, he continued: “You see there, how the court is out of focus a lot.” While many villagers, including my next-door neighbor, have cable TV, because of our remote location the signal still gets to us over a satellite, and is often compromised because of the weather, resulting in a snowy picture. I asked my neighbor if he thought that the bad reception was local to our village, or if it was being experienced everywhere people were tuned into the game. “No,” he replied, “you can read the score in that little box in the corner. It’s only the court that is fuzzy a lot. No, they must have an old cameraman over there at NBC.”
Hoops is extremely popular throughout Alaska, but in rural villages it is literally the only game in town. Pro and college basketball fans abound. Village basketball is a social hub of Piniq, second only to the church in importance and sway. In our village of 550 souls there are 8 men’s teams and 4 women’s teams in the Piniq Basketball Association. PBA games are held every Tuesday, Friday and Saturday – every day without a scheduled major church activity. The games are held in the school cafeteria, which doubles as a 3/4-size gymnasium. Competition is fierce, and you have to earn your right to play, even in a Tuesday night contest. Where I am looking for some exercise, my teammates seem to be in search of meaning.
Zone defense is played exclusively. Almost everyone has at least a decent outside shot; dozens of guys can shoot the lights out. The pace is quick, and with the small court games tend to be run-and-gun affairs where fast breaks rule and plays are unheard of. If a breakaway is not completed with a quick lay-up, a few passes are thrown around the perimeter to shift the zone, and then someone tosses up an outside shot, usually from beyond the 3-point arch. Scores often breech 100 points in 36-minute games.
I often wonder how players here would stack up “down states” where the style of play is so different. Many high school kids here dream of playing in the NBA, but no one from this village has ever gone on to play basketball in college. Of course there are many reasons for this other than basketball skills. It is also hard for me to judge, since my basketball experience has been limited and casual, but I doubt that even the best players here could play varsity in a large public high school.
Nevertheless, dreams are dreams, and high school ball is, in local parlance, the bomb. A large part of the town comes out, even in severe blizzards, to cheer for the high school team. There are at least a handful of spectators at every practice. Steam house conversation during ball season often turns around how the coach is doing, what is going on with the team and individual players, or how things look for the district tournament.
Within Alaska, from where only a couple of guys have ever made it into the NBA, there are 4 or 5 divisions for high school basketball, and villages like Piniq compete in the smallest division. Within the district Piniq is a relatively large school, but hasn’t qualified for the state tournament in several years. The last squad that did go to states lost their first game of the tournament, but that team is still discussed frequently, with pride by the players from it and with reverence by villagers in general.
But the glory of playing ball doesn’t fade with the memories of high school games, the prom and graduation. When recounting his life story, a guy from Piniq will invariably tell you about his PBA team. Talk to him long enough and he will get around to explaining how he is the key to his team’s success. If by chance he doesn’t play ball, he will tell you why he quit. A young man wound up at our place once late at night, and ended up opening up to us and emotionally relating his life story. Joining the Mavericks after high school and helping them kick ass ever since figured prominently among the most significant events in his 30-odd years.
The Eagles are the best PBA team in town. We have a neighbor who plays for the Eagles, and I was curious to know how he had come to be an Eagle. It turns out that at his high school graduation (he was a part of that historic lineup that qualified for the state tournament), the captain of the Eagles approached him and presented him with a package. Inside the package he found a brand new Eagles uniform, and he has been on the team ever since.
I sometimes wonder how differently I would be treated here if I were a good basketball player. Learning to play center and adjusting to the zone defense has been challenging. I have tried to adapt to the local style of play, but I am only a decent-at-best basketball player to begin with, so I am not much of a factor in most games. In the world of village basketball conversation is almost exclusively in Yup’ik, so I often have no idea what is going on. In a time-out huddle, for example, I pick out English words like “pressure” or “rebound” and try to surmise the plan of attack as best as I can.
For my part I am happy to get the chance to participate, to get some exercise and to get to know some people. Tournaments are the most fun. Throughout the long winter, villages host weekend tournaments and teams travel from surrounding villages by snowmachine, up to 100 miles each way, to participate. There is an entry fee of around $15 per player, the tournaments are double elimination and a trophy is awarded to the winning team.
Players shift teams for tournaments; if there is a logic determining who plays with which team, it is beyond my ken. There seem to be some teams pulled together only for tournaments, made up of all-stars of several PBA teams. I have gotten to play in a handful of village tournaments on a few teams (none of the all-star teams, alas), both here and at a neighboring village. This was my first experience with organized ball and with playing in front of a crowd. Tournament games are intense, a bit heavy on testosterone for my taste, but otherwise a lot of fun. No matter what happens in the games, the snowmachine rides across the tundra are invariably breathtaking and I enjoy the chance to experience other villages.
Basketball seems to offer Yup’ik men a unique outlet. Yup’ik males tend not to show their emotions. High school boys play a game in which they punch each other, harder and harder, trying to get a reaction. Culturally, it is offensive to speak quickly or loudly or to act without carefully considering the consequences. There is a lot of talk of respect, character and learning from one’s elders around here. Many cultures and institutions set standards of how one should live one’s life, but they seem to remain lofty goals, not specific guidelines for actual life. In general Yup’ik values seem to be put into practice, and in particular people seem to be able to camouflage their feelings and especially to contain their anger. Forbearance prevails, and having thick skin is not only a figure of speech, but also a matter of survival in the harsh elements
But all that flies out the window on the basketball court.
Arguments are not uncommon in the PBA. While I have never witnessed things come to blows, I have heard stories of fistfights on the court. Even the most mild-mannered villagers can turn into raging jerks on the basketball floor, and things get even more heated during tournaments. During one tournament here, a team taunted the referee (another villager) relentlessly, until he finally took off his referee’s shirt and tossed it at the captain of the offending team, refusing to continue. Harsh words were exchanged, and the game was postponed until another ref could be recruited.
I once questioned a friend about the disconnect between life on and off the basketball court here. He guessed that perhaps it was due to basketball being a recent addition to Yup’ik life, and therefore having no base in tradition or alignment with more traditional ways of living. It is interesting that behavior acceptable on the court has not spilled over into other aspects of life here, and I wonder how long this will remain the case.

©2001, Michael Thornton Wyman