Streetball (or street basketball) is a variation of basketball, typically played on outdoor courts and featuring significantly less formal structure and enforcement of the game's rules. As such, its format is more conducive to allowing players to publicly showcase their own individual skills. Streetball may also refer to other urban sports played on asphalt.[1] It is particularly popular and important in New York City and Los Angeles, though its popularity has spread across the United States due to the game's adaptability.[2]
Some places and cities in the United States have organized streetball programs, operated similarly to midnight basketball programs. Many cities also host their own weekend-long streetball tournaments, with Hoop-It-Up and the Houston Rockets' Blacktop Battle being two of the most popular. Holcombe Rucker had a big impact on streetball when he created a league in New York City, and it was later dedicated to him and named Rucker Park.[3] Since the mid-2000s, streetball has seen an increase in media exposure through television shows such as ESPN's Street Basketball and City Slam, as well as traveling exhibitions such as the AND1 Mixtape Tour, YPA, and Ball4Real.
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It is also popular in other countries like Philippines. Most of their streets have their own basketball court. Tournaments are also organized especially during summer and holiday season. Divisions are divided into 4 brackets, Mosquito (ages 7 to 13), Midget (ages 14 to 17), Junior (ages 18 to 25), and Senior division (ages 26 and up). In France, Quai 54 takes place every summer. It is one of the biggest streetball tournaments in the world.[4]
Players typically divide into teams by alternating choices. No referees are employed, so almost invariably a "call your own foul" rule is in effect,[5] and a player who believes he has been fouled, simply needs to call out "Foul!", and play will be stopped, with the ball awarded to the fouled player's team (free throws are not usually awarded in street ball[5]), usually after a brief debate over the alleged foul.
Calling fouls is generally disfavored.[5] The etiquette of what rightly constitutes a foul, as well as the permissible amount of protestation against such a call, are the products of individual groups, and of the seriousness of a particular game.
A common feature of street basketball is the pick up game. To participate in most streetball games around the world, one simply goes to an outdoor court where people are playing, indicates a wish to participate, and from all the players who were at the court before one has played, two players acting as "captains" will get to pick their team out of the players available and play a game. Generally, the team captains alternate their choices, but different courts have differing rules in regards to player selection. Many games play up to 7, 11, 13, 15, or 21 points with the scoring system of 2-point baskets and 3-point baskets counting for 1 and 2 points respectively. It is possible to do (1's only), (2's only), (1's and 2's) or (2's and 3's). Players often play "win by 1" or "win by 2" as in tennis to win the game.
The streetball game can be played at different team formats such as 2-on-2 or 3-on-3 for a half court play while 4-on-4 or 5-on-5 for a full court play. In most instances, the winning team gets first possession and usually choose which direction (which basket) they get to use.
Another possible streetball feature is having an MC call the game. The MC is on the court during the game and is often very close to the players (but makes an effort to not interfere with the game) and uses a microphone to provide game commentary for the fans.
Further, in some forms, players can freely enter the game after it has begun, starting at zero points or being "spotted" the same number as the player with the lowest score. "21" is an "every player for himself" game, with highly variable rules. The rules of "21" are usually agreed by the players at the beginning of the game.
"21" is considered a very challenging game, especially because the offensive player must possibly go up against several defenders at the same time. For this reason, it is exceedingly difficult to "drive to the hole" and make lay-ups in "21." Therefore, and also because of the emphasis on free-throws, "21" is very much a shooter's game, and because a successful shot means you keep the ball, it is possible for there to be come-backs when a player recovers from a large deficit by not missing any shots (this can also result in failure when they miss their final free-throw at 20 points and revert to 13 or 15). "21" is popular because it allows an odd number of people to play, unlike regular basketball or other variants.
The game of H-O-R-S-E is played by two or more players. The order of turns is established before the game starts. The player whose turn is first is given control, which means they must attempt to make a basket in a particular way of their choosing, explaining to the other players beforehand what the requirements of the shot are. If that player is successful, every subsequent player must attempt that same shot according to its requirements. If a player fails to duplicate the shot, they acquire a letter, starting with H and moving rightward through the word "Horse". After all players have made an attempt, control moves to the next player, and the game continues on in this fashion. If a player who has control misses their shot, there is no letter penalty and control moves to the next player. Whenever any player has all of the letters, they are eliminated from the game. The last person in the game is declared the winner.
This impromptu adventure did not thrill my parents, but, I figured, what better way to explore the spirit of one of the Western world's most condensed cities than through sports, the great assimilator? I am convinced that some of the city's truths, if not all of them, are boiled down on its basketball blacktops.
I left Sarasota, my air-conditioned hometown, for a first-floor sublet in Brooklyn to seek out the parks and playgrounds of New York City. Here is my report, a little stream of consciousness, a little underreported, full of a bunch of first names and first impressions.
By chance, my Web search directed me to a documentary about pickup basketball in New York. Bobbito Garcia and Kevin Couliau's independently financed "Doin' It in the Park" boasted of the city's more than 800 courts. After attending a free viewing of the documentary, I made a map of all of the courts mentioned in it and purchased a used bicycle on Craigslist.
Every day I have set out I have stumbled upon full-court pickup. In Florida, I would sometimes drive 20 miles to find evidence of a single halfcourt game. In Brooklyn, I check a map, look for green spots, and within half an hour I am sweaty and shooting.
My standard approach is to just walk up to the people on the sideline waiting to play. I clear my throat and channel Barry White's bottomless voice, "Who's got next?" Typically, no one looks me in the eye and any responses are mumbled.
Having next isn't always guaranteed. At Tillary Park, the best ball I've found in Brooklyn so far, I walked onto the court with my squad only to notice that there was one too many players. I stood there a little dumbfounded but the extra guy, an out-of-shape 20-something with inscrutable tattoos who went by Big John, had a look of assurance on his face; he knew what was going on.
I looked for solidarity from my team, but they had left me for Big John. I felt like Robin Williams in "Hook" when Rufio momentarily convinced the Lost Boys that Williams was an impostor and they turned against him.
I decided to try Tillary again. I went early one Saturday morning and managed to coerce my way onto a team. Things were going well in the game. I was scoring and defending and more than holding my own.
"What were you thinking, boy, giving him space like that?" "Weren't you watching while you waited?" "Didn't you know he could do that?" I just smiled through deflated pride and ran back down the other end.
Soon after, I managed a bit of retribution when I picked the same guy's pocket at the top of the 3-point line. I sprinted for a layup at the other end. The joy of my triumph was brief as it turned out I banged knees with him and he was keeled over where I left him. Soon my knee began to throb.
The city's courts are always crowded with people's belongings -- strewed about without much consideration or complaint. The courts are smaller than regulation floors and are boxed in by chain-link fences and curious bystanders.
The white lines do not always distinguish out of bounds; oftentimes, touching the fence with body or ball is considered out. The winning score is set, typically 16 or 21, depending on how many teams are waiting. Frequently, you have to beat your opponent by two points. When the score is 15-15 the final score will often be appended to 21 straight, meaning the first team to 21 wins.
I have found that all close games usually come to a screeching halt. Either the game turns into a war of who can give and take the harshest blows, or the game mirrors Italian soccer and everyone feigns fouls at the slightest contact.
At Dean Playground in Brooklyn, I confronted the city's greatest physical adjustment for an out-of-towner: the absence of nets. In New York, nets seem to be a great luxury, like air-conditioning and tranquillity.
Within the first three days of my arrival to New York, I had a knife pulled on me. Well, not a knife, but a box cutter with a neon green handle. I was playing basketball at Edmonds Playground in Fort Greene when I fouled an unassuming-looking guy hard enough to knock him down.
That neon green cutter fell out of his pocket and rattled against the concrete. The guy, Bookie, snatched it up and looked at me indignantly. I naively asked him what it was for. He pressed the blade up with his thumb and said, "It's my poker."
"Hey, big man," Old-T shouted through his smoker's rasp, "this is a simple game. Keep it simple and hustle!" The best baller at Raymond Bush approached the game with an oddly endearing mix of indifference and grace. He had a wicked crossover and tripped me up a few times. 152ee80cbc
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