Rockaway

And I would still not be surprised to see John Starks try to win it.

A little known player from the New York Knicks,

my childhood hero, John Starks.

Like my brother, Anthony and I, he had come from a tough life.

He had a chip on his shoulder and no one expected him to succeed.

But when he finally got his shot, he played with heart and determination.

It was that heart on display June 19th, 1994.

I had no idea how much that night would change me completely.

Starks for three.

It was the summer '94.

We had high hopes of a Knicks championship

and a plan to kill a man.

All right. Blast it. Quick in, quick out.

Does it have a number on it? Is it three?

- Let me see. Come on. - You and three, always three.

It doesn't matter what number it is, it matters that we have a bunch of them.

John Starks is three, and he is the most best basketball...

Player ever, I know.

- I know. Better than Ewing? - Yes.

- And Jordan? - Yes.

Don't worry. It's two.

You're up. Remember, in and out.

Argh! Damn it! That's definitely out. It hit right here.

- It hit right here. - Right there.

Woah, hey you little shits? Stop stealing our balls.

Maybe you should keep your balls to yourself.

A funny one we have here?

Stay right there you little brats.

- Shit. Come on. Let's go. - Right there. Come here.

- Anthony. Anthony. - Come here.

I'll teach you a lesson about taking from others.

Back then, I saw things my own way.

Get back here. Get back here. Stupid brats.

Come on! Keep moving. He's tired.

How many more do you think we need?

I don't know, at least 20.

Starks, steps up to the plate,

wait for the pitching.

John Starks doesn't even play baseball.

But if he did, he would be the best ever

and always hit home runs.

Maybe you choke up a little bit. It might be too big for you.

Plus we need to get up your strength.

It's not too big for me.

All right.

I wish there was more kids to play with us.

A team.

Well, I'm here and we, we are our own team.

You ready?

Think I'll grow to be 6'5?

You know those aren't real, right?

He's not actually 6'5.

That's what the number say on the back of my cards.

Those are just stats.

He's probably more like 6'2 or 6'1.

Does that mean I'm taller than I really am?

No, that's only how it works on basketball cards.

We only found one ball today.

That's OK.

Hey, do you think the Knicks could take the Rockets?

They have to. I like it when we get home late.

Mom makes us pork and beans.

You know what?

Walk real slowly then.

Alright you're gonna eat up and then it's right to bed.

No. Why?

I better not hear you playing video games.

Late boys don't get to play games.

Look at you. Did you leave any on the field?

No. Why can't we play games? Why can't we?

We haven't played in so long.

Can't we just play one game? Please.

You played the other night and I heard you.

No, we didn't. That was John singing.

Now, this was something my brother and I actually practiced.

We could hum the exact tune of any stage of the old systems.

Secret levels included. We went with stage one, one. A total layup.

Du-du-du...

The day I was born and it wasn't yesterday.

- The day before that, Mama? - You better watch yourself.

You're lucky there's not a Knicks' game on tonight or you wouldn't be watching it.

Shit.

I thought he was supposed to be late tonight?

- Hey. - Hey.

The boys were just finishing up.

What? No hello for dad?

They're exhausted from the day.

Yeah, they're exhausted.

Look what I got.

Maybe there's some Knicks in there.

Look, Karl Malone.

Is that a Knick? No.

What the fuck is this?

- It's nothing. - Was I talking to you?

I'm out there busting my ass to pay for food and clothes and for his cards

and this is the thanks I get from these goddamn kids?

Just, just bring me my dinner.

I can sew it. It's OK. Just go.

Get out of here before I have another reason.

Hey, I promise, I'll never let him touch you or hit you again, OK?

You want the cherry flavored one tonight?

In my head, this was the tastiest thing ever.

Sort of like Play-Doh before you actually eat some.

You didn't have to hit him.

I barely touched him.

You're not even trying to change.

My old man used to do a lot worse to me for a lot less.

- We'll leave. -Where the fuck do you think you would go?

- You're nothing without me. - I guess nothing worked all day.

Nothing made dinner, nothing paid the bills last month.

Just keep talking. Go ahead. Just keep talking.

- Make yourself feel better. - So fucking sick of this shit.

Come here.

You are such a fucking pain in the ass

like you and these goddamn kids.

Smoke's getting closer.

Don't worry. I'll protect you.

Who will protect you?

Don't worry about me.

Let's just take a look at the plan.

All you care about is those fucking kids.

OK. So, first, we smash the light from behind the boiler.

So then, he can't see them because he's drunk. He'll slip on the tennis balls.

And then you push the boiler over?

Yeah, exactly.

It's going to be really heavy and I can't do it alone.

I need your help, OK?

You should be so strong.

Can you do that?

Then he leaves us alone?

Yeah.

But, how do I break the light? It's so high.

I don't know. I'm still working on that part.

I'm scared.

...since that fucking kid was born.

Don't be.

Hey, you wanna hear a story about Mr. Doo?

And that's the truth you can't say nothing about.

All right. Close your eyes.

So, remember, in Dooland, the smellier you are the better.

And Mr. Doo, he's the smelliest of them all.

Harder this time.

Almost.

Not bad.

Hey. Your shot, Dom.

Ooh!

Great, now a little bit harder.

Come on, Dom. Take a shot.

Hey. Whoa.

Maybe, you need a little pump up there, Dom.

Maybe you need a kick in the face.

- Yeah. - Whoa.

Good shot, Dom. Now we can't play.

Maybe those guys wanna play.

- Hey. You guys wanna play a game?

- No, we're fine just shooting. - You sure?

What about you, Starks?

He's fine, too.

Come on, just a friendly game.

We would have to be friends to play a friendly game.

I'm Billy.

We're fine just the two of us.

Hey, they're just a little chicken.

Bah-gawk, bah-gawk!

He said the magic word. Tell my brother he was scared

to do something and he'd show you otherwise.

Scared of what, that awesome jump shot you got goin' on?

Anthony.

And you?

His name is John. He's my little brother.

That make sense.

John with the John Starks jersey.

You see the game the other night?

Starks scored 19, even the series off.

That's Brian and that's Dom.

- Sal! - Look here, boys.

- That's Sal, he doesn't stop talking ever. -No.

You boys ready for me? I got more hang time than the chandelier.

Swish.

What does that even mean?

And what's with the knee braces?

It's so hot right now, I mean look at them.

Never mind. Sal, this is Anthony and John.

Billy, take first pick.

You know you want me, Bill,

I'm the best player here. Come on.

I'll take John.

Until then,

only my brother had thought of me first.

I'll take Sal.

Yeah. Woo.

- Anthony. - Let's go. Let's go.

- Great choice, Brian. - All right. I would take...

Should we wait and see if anybody else shows up?

Brian, you're such an ass.

If I dunk, do we get five points?

You're not gonna dunk.

OK, dunks with five.

Yeah!

The bank's open today.