In the 1970s, practically everyone became acquainted with the name Jabbar. But did you know Jabali? For the hordes who would respond “Yes,” the narrative on the latter has frequently deviated towards the negative, whether on or off the hardwood. While revisionist history is frowned upon, it must be noted that many who are even nominally familiar with him (or may have covered him during his playing days) have a fraction of the story.
The anecdotes on him will never be modified, yet a divergent perspective is overdue.
ARMSTRONG NO MORE
Decades before Kaepernick took a knee and shortly after Smith & Carlos raised their fists, each professional basketball league had a newly minted villain. Ferdinand “Lew” Alcindor had taken that title in the NBA in becoming Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. Warren Jabali (formerly Warren Armstrong), candid to the nth degree, was misperceived within the ABA. Both were well-educated, scholarly, and voracious readers. Abdul-Jabbar, a Sunni Muslim who was at the time a member of the Hanafi Sect, was often mistakenly lumped by the public and press into the Nation of Islam (NOI). Jabali, assumed by scores also to be affiliated with Islam–most often labeled as a Black Muslim–was not. His new name was Swahili for “rock.”
The name change, like Kareem, would officially occur after graduation when he was firmly authenticated as a professional. “Our race is from the African continent,” explained Jabali. “Therefore, I thought it was time we took African names.” When asked whether or not he got static from the fans/or teammates, he replied, “No, surprisingly enough, everyone accepted it very well. I told them that’s how I wanted it, and they said OK.” [1]
LUCIUS ALLEN (REGIONAL COVERAGE)
Growing up in Kansas City, Warren polished his game against the vicinity’s finest. Often, he faced the very best from Kansas City, Missouri and Kansas City, Kansas—iron sharpens iron. One preeminent foe who would become a champion on celebrated teams in both the NCAA (U.C.L.A.) and NBA (Milwaukee Bucks) was Wyandotte High’s Lucius Allen.
“As productive and successful as he was, Allen doesn’t believe he’s the best player to emerge from the [K.C.] high school area. He doesn’t think he was the best in the metro area while playing. ‘Warren [Jabali],’ Allen said. ‘He was Warren Armstrong then. One-on-one, I didn’t have a chance against him.’ In the mid-60s, Allen was the best player on the Kansas side of the [K.C.] metro; Jabali was the best on the Missouri side. In the summer, they and their friends would find each other for pick-up games on the school playgrounds. If Allen was about finesse, Jabali was about brute strength. Both players were 6 feet 2. ‘But he intimidated me,’ Allen said. ‘He was a physical specimen.’”[1]
Heavily recruited out of high school, including an offer from U.C.L.A., where Allen would attend, Warren chose to play closer to home at Wichita State University. The prodigy was apprehensive about attending a college far away and in an unfamiliar environment. Kansas, Houston, Missouri and Cornell had aggressively pursued him. Jabali felt at home upon meeting his future teammates on his recruiting visit to Wichita (which included future New York Knicks legend/champion Dave Stallworth).
Still, the more proximal campus culture exposed him to individuals who would expand his horizons forever.
“While attending Wichita State University (1964-1968), Len Trower, a student and lifelong friend of Jabali, introduced him to the writings of Malcolm X. A speech entitled Message to the Grassroots was delivered at the Northern Negro Grassroots Leadership Conference on November 10, 1963, and King Solomon Baptist Church in Detroit, Michigan, the words so profound, prompted Jabali to read and further research the plight of African-Americans. He was forever changed and decided to dedicate his life to the advancement of the race. Throughout Jabali’s life, he adhered to the principles of Kwanzaa. Every aspect of his existence was guided by the belief that African Americans should unite, regardless of religious affiliation, level of educational attainment, socioeconomic status, or political party affiliation.”[1]
CHAMPIONSHIP SEASON
Hall of Fame coach Larry Brown was the point guard for that Oakland Oaks (1969) ABA championship team (pictured below). He recalls, “When I met Warren, Doug Moe and I came to Oakland, and we used to play Henry Logan and Warren two-on-two. Warren was 6’3”, muscular, one of the most gifted guys I’ve ever played with. And I didn’t think Jabali liked white guys very much, but he respected us on the court. Even though he might not have felt comfortable around you off the court, you were his teammate on the court. And he was an incredible, unbelievable competitor. He had enormous hands, could shoot it outside, could dunk in a crowd. Guards couldn’t handle him; he was simply too strong. Big guys couldn’t guard him because he was too good off the dribble. He was as tough as anybody.” [2]
Coming out of Wichita State and the mighty Missouri Valley Conference (where he was an All-Conference selection three times), Warren spurned an NBA offer from the New York Knicks to join the Oakland Oaks of the ABA. Jabali was initially the third or fourth option offensively under future Hall of Fame coach Alex Hannum, alongside (other eventual Hall of Famers) Rick Barry, Larry Brown, and a trigger-happy Doug Moe. However, the Wichita State graduate’s upside was identified immediately.
The first major star to jump from the NBA to the ABA, Barry was a scoring machine. After sitting out a season (court-mandated), the small forward sensation averaged 34 points a night before sustaining a significant knee injury. His season ended after the 35th contest. Nevertheless, the Oaks cruised to 60 wins.
Warren took over for Barry during his convalescence through his spectacular play, particularly in the playoffs. It resulted in Oakland winning the 1969 ABA title in grand style (four games to one) over the powerful Indiana Pacers, who would soon develop into a mini-dynasty (featuring future Hall of Famers Mel Daniels, Roger Brown, and the steady guidance of point guard Freddie Lewis). “Rick Barry was gone due to injury. I was the best player,” Warren remarked, “Rick was a player who could handle and distribute [the ball]. Doug Moe could not handle and distribute the basketball. Doug Moe was a scorer and would not get other people involved. So head coach Alex Hannum clearly recognized that I needed to have the ball because not only could I score, but I would get other people involved.” [1]
Oakland’s Gary Bradds totaled 40 points and 17 rebounds in the Oaks series’s opening win.
After dropping game two, Jabali asserted himself, dominating with the following totals in the latter three games of the series (points/rebounds/assists): 37/13/3, 30/7/14 (90% FT), 39/12/4. Warren, still Armstrong then, was named ABA Rookie of the Year and ABA Playoffs/Finals Most Valuable Player in 1969.
THE JARVIS EFFECT
Young, prone to volatility, and frustrated over a speculated lack of foul calls, Warren did possess an almost hair-trigger temper if he felt disrespected. Early on during his rookie year, one situation occurred with ABA opponent Jim Jarvis. Rick Barry, the star who had scrapped the NBA for more considerable currency, while no media darling, was considered someone who received preference on the court regarding contact. Barry could end up at the foul line if you envisioned touching him. Once at the stripe, the former University of Miami marksman, who could shoot his signature underhanded free throws well above 90%, racked up points quickly.
On the other hand, Jabali was praised by his head coach for taking epic amounts of punishment yet still being effective as a scorer. This wasn’t some badge of honor he delighted in wearing. “It got to the point that Coach Hannum made a comment published somewhere in which he said that what he liked about Warren Armstrong was that he could go to the basket, take a blow, and still make a basket. But no foul was being called; I was just taking the blow. I play tough because that’s how Alex Hannum taught me to play. Remember, he was my first coach in Oakland. He said that [former Boston Celtics guard] K.C. Jones would start the game with his fingertips on a player, and by the end of the game, he was grabbing the players.” [1]
During a game against the division rival Los Angeles Stars, Warren felt like he was recurrently being hacked by Jarvis, and after a play in which he had been physically manhandled, in his opinion, and had the ball stolen from him, Warren became incensed. To add insult to injury, a foul, paradoxically, was called on Jabali.
The subsequent interlude was not his finest hour.
All benevolence and etiquette on the court immediately exited stage right. And while it may have been the effect of something else, Warren assailed Jarvis and stomped him in the head. The rookie was suspended for 15 games and fined $250. While he returned and helped lead the Oaks to a title, he was viewed differently for the remainder of his career and beyond.
Here is Jarvis’ recollection of the incident:
“It was a weird deal. One of my former teammates from Pittsburgh was on the Oakland team, and after Armstrong stomped on me, he ran out and grabbed [Warren] to keep him from getting me again. I was fortunate that he was there to do that. I was hurt badly. I, half-conscious, crawled out and collapsed. [Armstrong] was ejected. Then [L.A. Coach] Bill Sharman and the trainer ran out and told me not to move and that I may have a broken neck. The team doctor then came out and said I had to get ready for the second half! He took me to the training room, laid me on the table, washed and shaved my eyebrows off.” Jarvis continued. “So after the game, I came out of the dressing room, and some of the wives and girlfriends were standing out there, and I began to talk to them. Armstrong came out of his dressing room, and as he was walking by, he said, ‘Well I’ll tell you one thing, you sure are an ugly motherf****r now!’ Nice guy.” [3]
“Well, years later, he and Connie Hawkins and one of my Pittsburgh teammates put on a clinic in Florida, and afterwards, they went out for drinks. They all shared what they were most proud of in their life and what they were most ashamed of, and Armstrong shared that what he was most ashamed of was what he did to me. So he made a turnaround of some kind, I think. I’m glad to hear that,” said Jarvis. [3]
Later that season, after Warren’s suspension, the L.A. Stars would face the Oaks in the Bay Area. For context, this was in 1969.
“The last game we played was in Oakland. I had already filed a lawsuit against him, and at the time, Oakland was the headquarters of the Black [Panthers],” said Jarvis. “There weren’t a lot of people there, and when they played the national anthem, they turned the lights off, and I got next to the biggest Black guy on the team because I was afraid someone was going to shoot me!” [3]
Huey Newton and Bobby Seale–dealing with more compelling circumstances–did not have the matchup circled on their calendars. There were no pregame gunshots that evening, yet the rookie phenom commenced on an unofficial “probation” for the balance of his professional career.
ROOMMATES & RAP SESSIONS
Who better to comment on Warren Jabali during his heyday than someone who was not only a teammate but also who roomed with him on the road? Veteran power forward Lee Davis, a fixture in the ABA in Memphis (primarily) who came to the league simultaneously as Jabali, was well acquainted with the herculean point guard. Eventually, they became teammates and friends with the San Diego Conquistadors (known as the “Q’s”). Between contests, the two grizzled and established players spoke often about topics other than basketball.
As rookies, Davis recalled, the two had a brief near-altercation, “Jabali was driving the lane and took off for a shot. As he was landing, he caught me with an elbow [on purpose] on top of my head, drawing blood. He glared at me as if to say, ‘Yeah, I did it.’ That occurred near the end of the game. I made a mental note, and the next time our teams met, just as [Warren] turned off a screen, I was standing there waiting for him, and I popped him in the side of his neck and upside of his head with a forearm. He was on the floor and just about knocked out. I glanced at him for a minute, then turned around and walked away; after that, we had no problems with each other. We respected one another. I was no fighter, but [the incident] gave me the reputation of being [an enforcer].”
In his downtime, Warren was fixated on African-American Studies. “For a time, he hated white folks,” said Davis. “Being a superior athlete, I think he misunderstood how much power [and influence] he had.”
ALL-STAR SPOTLIGHT
Warren, by then a member of the Denver Rockets, led a star-studded West team to victory during the 1973 ABA All-Star game in Salt Lake City. At its conclusion, he was selected as the game’s most valuable player. His performance, scoring 16 points (all in the second half), won him a trophy and a free airline ticket to anywhere in Europe. Jabali scoffed at the idea, stating, “I want to go to Africa instead. Why should I go to Europe? I don’t know anybody in Europe. If they do not send me to Africa, I’ll take the money instead of the ticket. I’ve heard the water is bad [in Europe]. I can’t swim. I don’t know what I’m going to do over there.” Of course, the ABA establishment already had a dim view of Jabali and did not take this kindly. After being ridiculed by the media over his statements and deemed “culturally unsophisticated,” he later responded, “I simply was not interested in going to Europe. I wanted the money so that I could tour Africa. I wanted to go where I could relate to my people and experience my culture.” [1]
Circumstances took an even sharper turn at the following season’s All-Star game in Norfolk, Virginia. Jabali stated, “All of the coaches, the general managers, and the owners were housed in this high-rise part of the hotel. All of the players and the wives are in this two-story part where they change the sheets every half hour because they have prostitutes running in and out of the building. We felt that this was an insult and that we shouldn’t have had to have our wives [endure this]; if it had been us players, we probably would’ve been ticked off, but why did we have to have our wives in this environment? Everybody was ticked off and complaining when we were in our player’s association meeting. I figured we could show our dissatisfaction by not attending the All-Star luncheon the following day. They voted on it and decided not to go to the luncheon, except for Julius [Erving], who went to the luncheon. [This was] after he said he was not going to the luncheon; the others didn’t show up for the luncheon. Larry Kenon and Artis Gilmore also attended the luncheon, but the other players did not. [Virginia Squires center] Jim Eakins said he was going to the luncheon, so he was left out. When everything was finalized, and the All-Star game was over, in some way, I was considered responsible for the voting decision that was made by grown men. So that was the impetus. It had nothing to do with my relationship with [Denver coach] Alex Hannum. It had to do with, I think, using me [as a scapegoat] for his lack of success and coaching and as a GM of the Denver Rockets.” [1]
Kentucky Colonels trainer Lloyd “Pinky” Gardner was selected to attend the game for the East All-Stars. He was present and provided his version. “For the 1974 All-Star game, there was a banquet. [Beforehand], Warren Jabali called all the Black players and told them to boycott it. Artis Gilmore and Julius Erving ignored the request and went to the banquet anyway. Later, all of the Black players got together in the locker room and ordered every non-player out. The meeting was concise, about three minutes. Later, Gilmore told me that Jabali demanded to know why he and Julius had gone to the meeting; with that, Dr. J. was putting his pants on, said, ‘When I was growing up, my mother taught me the difference between right and wrong, and today I did what was right.’ Meeting over. When Doc spoke, people listened.” [4]
