Asphalt rumble: Seattle's street ball

The camera crew filming the documentary on playground basketball came here because somebody told them that the thin strip of black asphalt at Green Lake provided the best that Seattle has to offer.

The games, however, have been momentarily suspended because of a disagreement between an older man in black shorts and black tank top and a whip-thin small kid who is standing shirtless in the middle of the court.

"I got next!" the boy yells as he cradles the ball beneath his arm. He intends to lead the next group of challengers against the winners from the previous game, but there are others who believe they are next in line.

And so the verbal exchanges begin.

This type of standoff precedes most games here and it is a jostle of bravado and bluster in which the winner is often times the person who argues his case loudest and longest.

This time is no different. The small kid has waited impatiently for nearly an hour, but he never stood a chance against the middle-aged man with the backpedaling hairline who is affectionately known around here as "The General."

Only a few of the folks here know his true name or his occupation. Some believe he's an administrator for the Seattle Public School system while others say he's an NBA referee. None of that really matters on the court, where reputations are won and lost by your ability to play and talk.

And nobody talks better than "The General," who needs 10 minutes before his non-stop verbal assaults force the kid to withdraw his claim.

At this point, Mike Smith lowers his digital camera, walks away from the court and shakes his head. This isn't what he had in mind when he flew to Seattle from his home in Los Angeles to capture the city's best street ballers.

"This is kind of what it's like at Venice Beach with all of the arguing, yelling and carrying on," Smith said. "In fact, it might be worse than Venice. At Venice, somebody would have backed down a long time ago and then you get the game going.

"But here, nobody backs down. They just go at it and at it. That's one thing about Seattle. Everything else, from what I can see, is pretty much the same here as it is anywhere else."

Smith and his two-man camera crew have spent the past two years criss-crossing the country in search of the nation's best pickup games and street ballers. His trek has taken him to 40 states, where he has interviewed more than 500 players and compiled 90 hours of footage that will soon be edited for his documentary, which is titled "Coast 2 Coast, America's Greatest Playgrounds," and is scheduled to be released next month.

"Different places may add variations to basketball because the people there are different," Smith said.

"Wherever you go, people will try to adapt it or improve it here or there, but essentially it's going to come back to putting that little ball through the hoop. ... Overall, Seattle was one of the top places that I can remember.

"And I'm not basing that on just pure talent. I'm basing that on atmosphere, aesthetics, the crowd and competition. From what I've seen, it's in the top 10, probably at No. 7."

Smith's crew spent two days canvassing the Seattle area. At every turn, the city's best ballers told them about Green Lake. They never ventured to downtown Seattle where a simple, nondescript court sits on the north side of Denny Way and west of Westlake Avenue.

Most times, Denny Playfield is vacant, with the exception of the noontime rush when the folks who work in the nearby offices and restaurants skip lunch and play basketball.

At its peak, there are only enough players to generate a four-on-four game, where the play is congenial and far less combative than the Green Lake courts.

One of the regulars, Chris Gibson, said he's attracted to Denny Playfield because of its convenient location.

"Other than the McMillan Courts, it's the only place to play (outside) in the city," said the 30-year-old who bartends at KeyArena. "You zip in, get a quick run and zip out. Everywhere else that I can think of is outside the city."

The McMillan Courts located across the street from the Space Needle welcome players of all ages, but they seem to cater to a teenage crowd. They are the newest and undoubtedly most pristine of Seattle's outdoor courts.

The green court is immaculate. The white strings that adorn the hoop look like new, and a likeness of Sonics Coach Nate McMillan's old No. 10 jersey hangs on the gate door.

The unmistakable sound of basketball play is intermingled with the nearby traffic and the noises emitting from the skate park next door, where boarders and bikers scale the sloped sides of walls and fly dangerously into the air.

David Reavis, who played pro ball overseas and is producing Smith's documentary, was attracted to the games at Othello Park near Rainier Beach High School in large part because they were comprised solely of Asian players.

"The language was different," Reavis said. "They were talking English, you could understand that, but the lingo was different. You get a lot of animosity and one-on-one play in streetball, but that wasn't the case there.

"It was a trip to see that. It was a lot like what you might see in Indiana or Kentucky, where there is more passing than dribbling. ... The bigger the cities — and I'm talking L.A., New York and Chicago — the more one-on-one stuff you see, the crossover dribbles and trying to break guys' ankles.

"They still do those things out in the boondocks and the suburbs because those kids watch the videos, too, but just not as much. ... At (Othello Park) that was the difference. There was just more passing and fundamentals being played."

Still, it was Green Lake that captivated the L.A. visitors. They marveled at the cozy setting where the court sits near the water, next to a gymnasium and across from a large grassy field.

To look at, the court doesn't offer much. The asphalt is worn, but it has held up well over the years. Instead of the regulation 10-foot requirement, the two steel-chained rims appear to be a little lower after years of use, a little more dunk-friendly for the shorter players.

"Everybody wants to make their own SportsCenter highlight," said the 44-year-old Smith, whose nickname "Old School" suggests that he's particularly fond of an era of basketball that no longer exists.

"I know I'm dating myself, but these guys nowadays don't have the same passion as we used to. The best athletes don't even play basketball anymore. They are playing video games or whatever.

"Or they're watching those 'And 1' videos and picking up bad habits. Too much dribbling. Too much playing for the crowd. Nobody knows how to shoot. ... But as much as I complain, I love this game. It's just changing, that's all."

On this day, a clear and perfect Sunday afternoon, the organic game continues to change as an eclectic mix of players ranging from young and old, ballers and hackers and boys and girls run up and down the court.

Back when Shawn Kemp was a Sonic, he would make occasional appearances at Green Lake, as would a few other NBA players who grew up in the city. The regulars here say the stars — with the exception of random appearances by Washington Huskies players — rarely show up for games anymore, so they have created their own legends and icons.

Weekend afternoons during June and July provide the best games if the weather is warm and the skies are clear. Seattle's damp conditions have nearly washed out the outdoors game, but the strong attraction to the streetball has kept it alive.

"Everywhere else, you have to pay money to play," said Keanta Lathrop, a 23-year-old sophomore at South Puget Sound College. "Most people play indoors. That's just how it is around here. But if you get a nice day, folks are coming to (Green Lake). I come here to get better and to work on my game."

A few myths surrounding outdoors must be addressed. For starters, no one plays for money.

"If anyone watched that movie ('White Men Can't Jump'), they'd have left thinking guys were out here hustling all the time, but that's a bunch of bull," Smith said. "They shot that at Venice, too, and that makes me mad because ain't none of that true. People who play, they play for the love of the game. Not for money."

And contrary to popular belief, defense is played during pickup games. In fact, a hard foul, even the Hack-a-Shaq rules, have become vogue.

"When you got all of these people out here and everybody is watching, nobody wants to get shook and made to look silly," Lathrop said. "So you're going to play some defense. Anytime you can rip a dude and get a steal, sometimes that's as good as shaking them for a layup."

In streetball, however, scoring a basket is only half the game.

"You talk to these guys and they'll tell you that it's not just getting from Point A to Point B, but how you do it," Smith said. "Everybody wants to be a showman."

As one particularly heated game concludes and the argument to challenge the winners begins, one of the kids walks slowly over to Reavis and asks: "What are y'all doing here?"

Reavis tells them about the documentary.

"You mean, I'm going to be on TV? Just like SportsCenter?" the kid asks.

"Yeah," Reavis replies, "just like SportsCenter."

Percy Allen: 206-464-2278 or pallen@seattletimes.com.