Abstract
As Kurtis Blow (1984) once rapped, ‘Basketball is my favorite sport’, so A. Rafik Mohamed’s Black Men on the Blacktop (2017) naturally piqued my interest. Chronicling a couple of years of research at various Los Angeles basketball courts, Mohamed examines how basketball became ‘the Black man’s game’. Focused on the cultural, racial, and social significance of pickup (or pick-up) basketball, Mohamed argues that the court and the game say a lot about the state of Blackness and racial politics in the United States.
Mohamed begins laying the scene for a typical day on one of the courts, including the approximate arrival times of players, their attire, selection of teams and calling of ‘next’ game, and the demographics of the players. ‘Even though this court had one of the best runs around, rarely did white players venture out to play here. And when a white player did show up, you know he brought “game”’ (p. 2), or a high level of skill. There are two crucial points here, which Mohamed focuses on throughout the book: the centering of Blackness and maleness, or Black male identity, on his research into pickup basketball. In a section titled ‘Where My Girls At?’ Mohamed argues that the sheer lack of women participating in pickup games in the area would make it nearly impossible to explore Black femininity in pickup basketball (p. 27). This is not to say women did not show up; the handful he did interact with had ‘game’, many being former collegiate players.
Mohamed traces the origin of basketball becoming the ‘Black man’s game’ to the enactment of national housing policies, particularly public housing, literally stacking (mostly) Black residents into impoverished urban areas, keeping them in but apart from the general population. Unlike sports such as baseball, fútbol (soccer), or (American) football, where lots of space is necessary, these urban settings provided little else but concrete. As such, basketball became the only sporting option (particularly for Black men) in these settings, leading Mohamed to argue, ‘It is my contention that basketball expressionism, especially that which takes place on the blacktop…has become a vehicle for self-identity and a focal point of community strength, structure, and everyday resistance among black Americans’ (p. 55). These instances of resistance are analogous to historical examples of oppressed communities using sport for self-identity, empowerment and, yes, resistance. Rhoden (2006) notes the practice of pitting slaves against each other in athletic feats (as does Mohamed), with the victorious slave ‘earning’ rewards such as extra food or even money; Mohamed highlights ‘rez ball’ by Natives as a similar form of resistance as Black men through basketball. However, he does provide further scrutiny than these narratives suggest, highlighting future potential interventions from scholars within sports sociology.
This speaks to both potential future studies as well the relevance of the work beyond pickup basketball in the United States. It is easy to see how connections between Mohamed’s analysis and the sociocultural politics of pickup basketball connect to other sporting landscapes. Globally, a project could examine how pickup fútbol in Central/Southern America, Africa, and the Middle East fits into Mohamed’s arguments. The same approach is applicable to pickup baseball in Central and Southern America, or (ice-) hockey in Canada and other European countries. Beyond that, scholars can also examine the economic politics of pickup, such as the link between masculinity and economics. Using pickup games in any sport allows for a greater diversity in research, something harder to find in a more formalized sporting setting. Because pickup seems to be an area of research still untapped, Mohamed’s book is encouraging in that it opens up more questions for research and examination.
With the broader potential and discursive intervention in mind, Mohamed writes, ‘The underlying premise of my intended approach was rooted in the contact hypothesis’ (p. 64), where more intimate exposure with other groups, coupled with common goals, could reduce racial bias, discrimination, and conflict. While he does concede that the contact hypothesis (or theory) is possible, he states ‘Thus, at least in the context of US race relations in most social spaces…specifically in the context of sport and race, contact theory is an insufficient model to depend upon in the promotion of racial harmony’ (p. 67). Why? Because it does nothing to address the underlying cultural, institutional, and systemic issues that create the very race relations which the contact theory attempts to reduce.
Mohamed’s criticality extends when he remarks, ‘Perhaps the most interesting dynamic of this phenomenon was the numerous instances where black American males seemed to embrace these stereotypes themselves and use them to their personal advantage in the negotiation of day-to-day politics’ (p. 125). Most significant are the numerous examples in his research of Black men seemingly reversing the everyday roles of power from White men by acting as the defunct ‘Board of Trustees’ on the courts, essentially telling off any White baller who attempts to challenge the authority of the Black ballers on the court (a small twist of fate). Further, he brings into the discussion Majors and Mancini Bilson’s ‘cool pose’, or the public face put forth by many Black men to counterbalance the feelings of marginality and powerlessness, and how the pose finds a welcoming home on the blacktops. Away from the more structured indoor gyms and courts, as well as corporate (White) America, this space functions as one of the few areas where Black men can ‘be’ Black men and reclaim some of the masculine power identity lost in the day-to-day.
This discussion leads into arguably the most salient chapter, ‘The Mandingo Syndrome’. By tracing the term ‘Mandingo’ to the African tribe most coveted by slave traders because of the belief in their physical superiority, Mohamed expertly translates the stereotypes of the Mandingo to Black men on the blacktop. Specifically, this stereotype paints Black men as physically gifted and sexually aggressive, the very stereotypes we still hear applied regarding Black athletes today. Because it pertains to the intersections of athletics, sexuality, and Black men, Mohamed argues that these types of stereotypes affect no other group more (p. 123). Using examples from both his graduate school life and his years of research in California, Mohamed uses the Mandingo stereotypes to exemplify how others automatically assumed he or another Black man had ‘game’ or interest in basketball (pp. 122, 132–133), even when there were other non-Black players who clearly had more ‘game’ than Mohamed (p. 133). This leads Mohamed to argue that the Mandingo stereotype of superior Black athletic ability is alive and well, living insidiously inside most all of us.
Much like his previous work with Erik D. Fritsvold (Mohamed and Fritsvold, 2011) in Dorm Room Dealers: Drugs and the Privileges of Race and Class, Mohamed’s strength lies in his ability to use personal or ethnographic examples and extrapolate to the macro-scale factors creating the contexts of those examples, and vice versa. Too often, particularly in our discussions on issues such as race and within the realm of sports, we boil things down to, ‘Be good to one another’, or, ‘Be successful’, and ‘Race will not matter’. It would have been easy for Mohamed to leave his analyses at the reclamation of masculine identity and power, and the inversion of racial power roles on the court. However, he provides further critique by remarking how the takeback of power and identity is fleeting, only accessible on the blacktop. In addition, while this helps in the self-worth and image of Black men, to others it is indicative of embodying the negative and destructive Mandingo stereotypes, including in the relationships between Black men and other Black men, and Black men and Black women (p. 126). Lastly, Mohamed argues that not only does the employment of ‘cool pose’ create a social posture and values incompatible with conventional means of success (read: White), but also that, ‘…the mobilization of bias as constructed around black athleticism and participation in sports simultaneously devalues intellectual contributions of African Americans and de-emphasizes the images most likely to lead to self-empowerment and economic achievement’ (p. 141).
The book is a fascinating read for both basketball fans and non-fans alike. Mohamed’s writing is fluid and easy to digest, and he is able to set a scene well. As mentioned earlier, his greatest strength lies in his critical analysis, moving beyond the individual to the cultural, societal, institutional, and systemic levels. His use and breakdown of the Mandingo stereotypes as they typify Black men today is superb, and required reading for any class on the intersections of race and masculinity. While there are many books looking at basketball and race, what separates Black Men on the Blacktop are the foci on pickup games, the interrogation of racial power dynamics during pickup games, and that beautifully written chapter on ‘The Mandingo Syndrome’. As such, Mohamed’s Black Men on the Blacktop represents a critical contribution to the literature of sport sociology.