Basketball Memories (with Much Respect to Jim Carroll and The Basketball Diaries)

Winter, 1992, Hollywood - 11am - 1pm, Weekdays

Lunchtime hoops with movie industry dudes from all the nearby, no-name studios. (Grips, Best Boys, Gaffers [What’s a Gaffer?], Lighting guys, Sound guys, Assistants-to-the Assistants, Coffee Gophers - you name it.)

Wake up at nine, kick back, shower, eat breakfast. What a wonderful way to spend a weekday morning. But that’s only the beginning. The clock reads 10:30. Time to lace up the basketball shoes and head over to the courts.


Fall, 1993 - 6pm - San Francisco, Marina District.

Following a day of relaxation, bumming around town and riding the fantastic electric busses, I see some good hoops going on at a picturesque outdoor hoops court near the marina. “Man, this looks good” I said to myself. I ran to my car, popped the trunk and grabbed my basketball shoes, then played a solid round of street ball as the beautiful San Francisco evening turned to night. Everyone there - the players, the friends, the hangers-on - hooted and hollered as some good ball played out before them. Talk about feeling good for many reasons…

Afterward, I felt completely spent. To one side, there was a big grocery store full of fantastic food just a couple of blocks away. I opted to head in the other direction, toward the Youth Hostel where I had been staying all week long, because halfway there sat my roadtrip car, with some free food in the trunk: a can of Pork & Beans. And a plastic spoon. Yep, that was a meal only the best gourmet chefs in the West could top. Mmmm.

Then I staggered back to the Hostel, showered, and passed out.