“Black Power in the Flesh”: A Brief History of Basketball’s 70-Year Fight Against Racism
Given the subject matter and timeliness of this article, I wanted to give appropriate credit to some black voices without whom this article could not have existed. The first is Ron Thomas, currently the director of the Journalism and Sports program at Morehouse College. Mr. Thomas’ book They Cleared the Lane: The NBA’s Black Pioneers is a must-read for basketball fans and an indispensable resource. I also want to recognize the work of the many black journalists at The Undefeated, whose coverage of black sports and culture is consistently top-notch, and whose content on black activism in the NBA, from Bill Russell to the present day, was invaluable.
The sport of basketball, particularly the NBA, is intrinsically linked to race. The association has the highest proportion of black players of any North American sports league, and is the only league with a majority non-white audience. As a result, the NBA has gained a reputation as being progressive relative to its peers, from the NFL’s inaction on racial injustice to the systemic racism that still exists in hockey at almost every level. But it wasn’t always that way; it took the courage and the action of key figures throughout the history of the league to bring about change, both within the league and beyond. As the evidence of racial injustice and white supremacy continues to rear its head on our doorsteps, hopefully this brief history of what it took to get us this far can remind us how much further we still have to go.
1946–47: The Basketball Association of America (BAA) plays its first season; two years later the nascent organization will merge with the NBL to form the NBA. The league is inaugurated with an unofficial ban on black players, with no black player making a BAA or NBA roster for the league’s first four years of existence. The ban is at least partly for the benefit of Abe Saperstein, owner of the Harlem Globetrotters; Saperstein wanted his pick of any promising black players, and since the Globetrotters were a bigger draw than the BAA/NBA, he got his way. But regardless of Saperstein’s influence, integration is hardly the norm in pro sports. Jackie Robinson is still several months away from breaking the colour line in baseball. The Los Angeles Rams are the only NFL team to roster a black player until 1948. ‘Separate but equal’ is not just a phrase, but a legal doctrine; dismantling institutional segregation will prove to be a decades-long effort.
April 25, 1950:
At the urging of Knicks owner Ned Irish, the NBA becomes integrated; Chuck Cooper is drafted by the Boston Celtics with the 14th pick in the 1950 NBA draft. He is the first black player to be drafted by an NBA team. During the 1950–51 season, Cooper, Earl Lloyd, Nat “Sweetwater” Clifton, and Hank DeZonie become the first black players to play in the NBA, officially breaking the league’s colour barrier. 50+ years later, the league will be over 75% black.
1950s-60s: For over a decade, an unspoken quota system exists among the league’s decision-makers. While never publicly admitted to by team owners or league executives, there is a consensus around the league that too many black players would be bad for business with a predominantly white crowd. From the start of league integration in 1950–51 until 1954–55, only two teams roster more than one black player in a season. This trend continues into the early 60s, with teams almost never rostering more than four black players.
The Eastern League, a pro league out of Pennsylvania, highlights the racial disparity of the time. As many as 70% of players in that league were black, including former NBA players who had been pushed out of their roles due to an overabundance of black players. At the same time in the NBA, just 40% of players were black.
April 30, 1956:
As part of a draft-day trade, the Boston Celtics acquire Bill Russell from the St. Louis Hawks, and the NBA gets one of its greatest and most outspoken advocates for equality. Despite being one of the winningest and most decorated players in the league throughout his career, Russell is still a victim of racism on a daily basis, even as he becomes one of the sport’s all-time greats. In 1962 — when Russell is already a 2-time MVP and gunning for his 5th championship — he and the other black members of the Celtics (KC Jones, Satch Sanders, and Sam Jones) are denied entry into a Lexington, KY hotel. The players fly home, boycotting the exhibition game they had been scheduled to play and raising serious amounts of controversy.
Russell was never a stranger to controversy — his stoic demeanour and refusal to act as a role model (or as he himself put it, “refuse[d] to smile and be nice to the kiddies”) earned him ire from just about everyone, from sportswriters to the FBI to his own fans. Russell and other black athletes’ relationship with the city of Boston is well-documented, and he refused to return to the city for years after ending his Celtics career. He wasn’t as outspoken as contemporaries like Muhammad Ali, but was strong in his convictions about equality and set a powerful example for future athletes by carrying himself with dignity in the face of bigotry and never kowtowing to outside pressure on him.
April 16, 1966: Fresh off of winning their eighth consecutive championship, long time Celtics coach Red Auerbach retires. Russell is named as his successor, becoming player-coach and the first black man to coach a North American Big 4 sports team. Over the next three years, he would bring the Celtics their 10th and 11th championships, anchoring the team both on and off the court. Asked how he would avoid racial prejudice against white players as coach, Russell says that “the most important factor is respect. And in basketball I respect a man for his ability, period.”
November 24, 1967:
A number of black athletes support a resolution to boycott the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City, in protest of unequal treatment of African-Americans. Among those participating in the boycott is a young man known as Lew Alcindor, who would later change his name to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. Alcindor is in his junior year at UCLA, and is about to embark on the second of three straight seasons as the national player of the year, in addition to leading his Bruins to the NCAA title.
Alcindor’s strong support for civil rights stem from his experiences in the 1964 Harlem riots. The riots were caused by the death of James Powell, a black boy who was shot and killed by an off-duty police officer at just 15 years old. Alcindor was 17 at the time, and had firsthand exposure to rioting and looting — the same experience many young people in America are facing now. For Alcindor, the moment crystallized the realities of racism for him: “Right then and there, I knew who I was, who I had to be. I was going to be black rage personified, Black Power in the flesh.”
In many respects Kareem followed in Russell’s footsteps. in addition to being the best player in the league, he was also revered for his intellect, and for his actions as a trailblazer against racism. Much like Russell, he valued his privacy, but soon realized it was incompatible with his desire to be an advocate for justice. It’s no surprise that even to this day, Abdul-Jabbar is one of the most vocal, and consistently one of the wisest people speaking on matters of race. It’s surely no coincidence that, in a recent op-ed for the LA Times about the recent protests in the United States and across the world, he quoted from Langston Hughes’ poem ‘Harlem’. “I don’t want to see stores looted or even buildings burn,” he wrote, “but African Americans have been living in a burning building for many years, choking on the smoke as the flames burn closer and closer.”
The 1980s and 90s: As black athletes become more accepted by the general populace, the legacy of black activism in the league becomes somewhat diminished. This is not to say that stars around the league are not supportive of the fight for equality, but their efforts are often felt behind the scenes rather than in front of the camera. “They were aware that if you say certain things it may hurt your brand, or may hurt your ability to do things or that maybe even the league would take a different look at you,” argues Mike Glenn, a 10-year NBA veteran and director for the league’s Retired Players Association. “I think it was an insecurity of their position regardless of how much success they had.”
The 80s were an era of growth for the league, and it can be argued that there were more pertinent issues to be dealt with. Drug use ravaged the league, with multiple players banned for the league for substance abuse. Then, in the early 90s, Magic Johnson’s highly public battle with HIV brought new support and understanding for that disease. But while the voices of the league’s biggest stars may not have been loud, they made themselves heard through the work they did in their communities: private donations to historically black schools and social justice charities, opening doorways for black executives in the business world, and advocating for black coaches in the league.
June 12, 1992:
The Chicago Bulls defeat the Portland Trail Blazers 119–106 in Game 5 of the NBA Finals to take a 3–2 series lead. It is also the last game that Craig Hodges plays in the NBA. A 10-year veteran and reigning three-time champion of the 3-Point Contest, Hodges was used sparingly in the Bulls’ playoff run, but appeared in 17 of their 22 playoff games and was firmly the 10th man in the rotation. Despite this, he will be released by the Bulls after their championship run, never to be signed by another NBA team. What happened?
Depending on who you ask, a few things happened. After Game 1, with the nation less than a month removed from the Rodney King riots, Hodges criticized his teammate Michael Jordan for his silence on the issue. Asked about Jordan’s claims that he wasn’t informed enough about the situation to comment, Hodges responded “I can understand that, but at the same time, that’s a bailout situation because you are bailing out when some heat is coming on you. We can’t bail anymore.”
Then, the team’s championship visit to the White House. Much like how championship teams in recent years have made a statement by declining to visit the White House, Hodges made a statement in his attendance; while his teammates wore suits, he arrived in a dashiki, delivering a hand-written letter addressed to then-president George HW Bush, urging him to take action on behalf of marginalized poor black communities. Whether Hodges was blackballed from the league for these actions can, of course, never be directly proven. But as one of the league’s premier shooters and a contributor to the best team in the NBA, Hodges was unable to get even a tryout with a single team. He filed a lawsuit against the league, but saw it dismissed on the grounds that he had waited too long to file suit. Even as the league began to move publicly towards supporting issues of social justice, the hard truth was far different.
March 12, 1996:
Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf of the Denver Nuggets is suspended for one game and fined over $30 000 for refusing to stand for the national anthem before games. Abdul-Rauf tells journalists that he views the American flag as a symbol of racism and oppression, and that to stand for the anthem would conflict with his devotion to Islam, a faith shared by many who advanced the cause of black equality.: “You can’t be for God and for oppression… I don’t criticize those who stand, so don’t criticize me for sitting.” Abdul-Rauf would soon reach a compromise with the league, agreeing to stand for the anthem, albeit with his head bowed in prayer. But he was still traded to the Kings at season’s end, and steadily saw his playing time diminish in Sacramento. And much like Hodges, when his contract expired in 1998, he found himself unable to get a tryout with a team, despite being just 29 and averaging 19 points per game two years earlier; it’s not an exaggeration to say that his activism cost him his livelihood.
It’s hard to hear Abdul-Rauf’s story and not think of Colin Kaepernick, who nearly 20 years later was also unable to secure a tryout after kneeling during the anthem as a statement against racial injustice and oppression in America. Much as Donald Trump urged team owners to cut players who refused to stand for the anthem, Charlotte Hornets owner George Shinn threatened to trade any member of his team who followed Abdul-Rauf’s lead during the anthem. The image of white outrage in response to black protest is all too familiar, and can be seen constantly to this day.
October 17, 2005: NBA Commissioner David Stern announces the institution of a mandatory dress code for all players. The decision comes on the heels of the Malice at the Palace, an incident which prompted accusations of “thuggishness” or a “gang culture” problem in the NBA, both racist dog-whistle terms. The code itself is also accused of being covertly racist, implicitly associating elements of hip-hop culture such as baggy clothing, jerseys, chains, sneakers, and Timberlands with criminal activity and other negative imagery; unsurprisingly, the code disproportionately targeted young black players.
Allen Iverson, a game-changer in league fashion and a frequent target of racist attacks for his style and background, argued that “Just because you put a guy in a tuxedo, it doesn’t mean he’s a good guy. The dress code is not who I am and doesn’t allow me to express myself.” Iverson was an off-court boundary pusher in the NBA, popularizing urban black style including braids, tattoos, and the aforementioned hip-hop fashion. He was willing to be outspoken about issues that might have appeared minor at the time, but in hindsight were undeniably part of a culture of systemic and casual discrimination in the United States, a culture that is still being fought against to this day.
April 29, 2014: Commissioner Adam Silver announces that Los Angeles Clippers owner Donald Sterling has been banned from the NBA for life, and would be forced to sell the Clippers. The decision comes just four days after the release of recordings of Sterling speaking to his mistress, berating her for “associating with black people”. The appalling remarks were not the first by Sterling, who had long acted as a veritable slumlord in the city of Los Angeles, refusing to rent to black and Latinx people and making statements that are truly too vile to repeat. During his statement, Silver invoked the names of Chuck Cooper, Earl Lloyd, Sweetwater Clifton, Bill Russell, and Magic Johnson, apologizing for allowing Sterling to besmirch the league’s rich history.
While it is almost certainly and sadly true that Sterling would have remained the owner of the Clippers had the highly publicized statement not surfaced, the ban would go on to represent a positive sea change in the NBA. Silver had been on the job for less than three months, and his firm, unequivocal ruling sent a message that the league would not tolerate bigotry, even from its most powerful members.
December 6, 2014:
During warmups for a game between the Bulls and the Warriors, Derrick Rose wears a shirt emblazoned with the words ‘I Can’t Breathe’. The slogan is in reference to Eric Garner, a black man killed by police in New York City. Garner, who was unarmed and accused of nothing more than selling cigarettes, was placed in a chokehold by police and left unable to breathe. The actions by the NYPD bear a disturbing resemblance to those of the MPD in the killing of George Floyd — an unnecessary, dehumanizing, brutal act against a person of colour accused of a minor offence.
Days later, members of the Cavaliers and Nets would wear similar shirts in warmups. Adam Silver announced that no players would be fined for the act, technically a violation of league rules requiring players to wear Adidas clothing during warmups. Following Rose’s example, athletes in other sports from high school to the NFL used the slogan to raise awareness.
Sadly, the killing of Eric Garner would not be the last time players felt the need to speak up in the social media era. From Michael Brown to Philando Castile to Charlottesville to Breonna Taylor, all the way up to George Floyd, issues of racism, discrimination, and injustice have only increased in frequency. Fortunately, the NBA’s biggest names have rose to meet this challenge. Speaking out at the ESPYs, clashes with Donald Trump, “Shut Up and Dribble” — they all showed a willingness among some of black America’s most powerful voices to stand against injustice. We recently passed the 70th anniversary of the colour barrier being broken in the NBA; yet a far more insidious, invisible barrier persists in our society. As fans of basketball, and as human beings, it is the least we can do to honour the memory and continued efforts of these trailblazers, and fight against racial inequality in all its forms.
