“The Fab 5 was a hurricane.” — Mitch Albom

I’m writing this from my gut. I don’t care if there’s a misspelled word or comma splice. From the gut. No editing.

I watched, with great interest, the recent ESPN Fab Five documentary that aired Sunday evening after the NCAA selection show. If you look back at the chronology of my life (and my family’s love of sports)–it’s not hard to see that it was inevitable I’d become a basketball junky. Right after the Graves family moved from Wichita to Michigan (where I was born; suburban Detroit) the Jayhawks, led by Danny Manning, had just won an NCAA championship. The KU bug was already in me.

The Detroit Pistons, the only NBA team I’ll ever root for, played in three NBA championships from 1988 to 1991 winning two in ‘89 and ‘90 (and a third in 2004 against the Lakers). The University of Michigan won the NCAA championship in 1989 (Glen Rice the reincarnate Danny Manning) which paved the way a few short years later for the emergence of the Fab Five–the first ever all-freshmen-led team in the modern era to storm the college scene.

Basketball and me–it was in the cards. It just happened that I was tall (for a guard, 6′3) and could shoot well (truth-telling: I was slow and couldn’t jump). Even if the former wasn’t true, I’d still be a basketball nut. My dad made it a priority that my brother and I experience basketball in all its richness: letting us play all over the city; constructing a huge spotlight on our driveway allowing us to play into all hours of the night, taking us to watch Detroit’s best players when we were in middle and early high school.

The Fab 5 came on the scene just as hip-hop was rising as an important voice in American culture. I certainly don’t desire to be the defender of all facets o fhip-hop. However, one should note the role hip-hop plays. Hip-hop is partially a prophetic cry against poverty, disillusionment, and rage. If you are not convinced, read Jay-Z’s recent book. Pure truth-telling. Hip-hop is to the urban areas of America what country is to rural–it’s the narrative that most accurately names your experiences, hopes, passions, hypocrisy, and zest for life.

The same reason LeBron and Chris Bosh joined D-Wade in Miami is the same reason the Fab 5 all chose Michigan–they were hungry. You couldn’t go to the pros from high school–it was all about winning (which is why the only reason anyone should have a bad taste toward LeBron is not “what he did” but “how he did it”–the press conference surprise was weak; his PR team should be excommunicated from the U.S.).

As a student in jr. high/middle school . . . I was immediately transfixed by the Fab 5 because of their chemistry and hunger to win. Of course, the shorts, black socks, swagger, etc. were part of their appeal but the root of who they were–the same root as the great teams in NCAA history like Kentucky, Kansas, Duke, North Carolina–the root of their success was chemistry and hunger. That much of White America couldn’t see past the the flamboyant energy (as if Joe Namath and Pistol Pete had not existed) says more about White America than the Fab 5. Eminem, hoping not to digress too much, is bridging worlds very few have/can. BTW–Larry Bird is one of the best trash-talkers who ever lived and you never hear a word about this facet–it’s a double standard that’s absurd. Of course the Fab 5 talked trash, every great team/player (save John Stockton maybe) understands the role of trash-talking.

I personally loved the documentary because it was raw, honest, and truthful. It showed the best and the worst. I was particularly taken with Jalen Rose’s dead-on observations, confession, and leadership. While I wholeheartedly think he underestimates Duke (can’t believe I’m defending Duke, but Coach K is the real deal)–his comments about “inner-city Blacks” and “Uncle Tom Blacks” reminds us that perception is reality–whether we like it or not.

I loved Jalen’s swagger, Chris’s raw talent (still one of the most talented big men of the modern era in the NBA), Juwan’s skill (my dad said from the beginning that Juwan would play a long-time in the NBA because of his skill and basketball IQ), King’s energy, and Jackson’s versatility. I love how they fearlessly took on everything that came their way, kept fighting, kept playing. If you go back and watch their tapes, they were an amazingly unselfish team. That Bobby Knight still refuses to acknowledge this shows he can’t get past the fact that their shorts were long; their socks black. Knight’s like the preacher who won’t accept someone whose hair is too long, dress isn’t quite right. Knight, not Jalen, is the one who needs to get over himself.

I wish Webber would’ve seen this as an opportunity to move forward. I also think Mitch Albom was right–if Webber was getting paid while he played at Michigan he was the best pretender ever. Still, it’s time for Webber to move past the past and into a future as a leader in Detroit.

College basketball is about passion, chemistry, luck, and talent. The Fab 5 had a whole lot of all four. In the end, they didn’t have a championship to show for it (back-to-back championship appearances is a remarkable feat) but like many others (Pistol Pete, Charles Barkley, Ted Williams, Elgin Baylor, and Barry Sanders to name a few)–they forever changed the trajectory of the game. They were basketball artists. And it was an honor to grow up right in the middle of it.

The next time this happens is uncertain  . . . could be Chicago, or Atlanta or Dallas or Memphis or LA. But this time, God smiled on Detroit and gave us something to cherish and share for a long, long time.  This documentary was a hurricane of authenticity and we need more of it in our culture transfixed with appearances, hype, shallow PR, and denial.

And all of this from a Kansas Jayhawk fan who kept a scrapbook as a 12 year old because I knew I was witnessing something special.

Peace,

Josh