For a long time, he was surmised an enigmatic, arcane figure. Former teammate Larry Brown and others were nostalgic regarding the title team of 1969. Rick Barry, conversely, had mixed feelings regarding the former rookie sensation (with whom he teamed for two seasons). On one hand, he waxed poetic about Warren’s potential early on, comparing him to Oscar Robertson. Years later, during an interview, Barry allegedly commented, “I had one teammate who wouldn’t pass me the ball because I’m white.” [1]
Warren eloquently retorted, “[A] writer told me that Rick had stated that I was a racist and was a teammate who would not pass him the ball because he was white. I do not know if these quotes are accurate, but they nonetheless deserve an examination. It would seem to me, however, that Rick would put forth something a little more substantive than I ‘wouldn’t pass him the ball.’ The preponderance of evidence contradicts his assertion since I was second behind Larry [Brown] in assists, and it would have necessitated my passing only to Ira Harge and myself since we were the only Black starters. We could not have gone 60-18 in the regular season, 12-4 in the playoffs, and become ABA champions with that kind of animosity on the court. A more gracious person would have commented, perhaps, about the high expectations for him to lead the Oaks to higher attendance and a championship, how his injury cast doubt upon that goal, and how the team coalesced without him. Can it really be that what Larry and I remember fondly as a wonderful time can only be commented upon relative to one’s feelings about the texture of the ball and not receiving it enough?” [1]
Jabali was with the powerful Kentucky Colonels, but only for the preseason in 1970. He (along with a few other players) and head coach Gene Rhodes did not see eye to eye. Another infamous event supposedly occurred during his brief interlude in the Bluegrass State. “According to accounts, Jabali encountered [Kentucky’s] Howard Wright, a rookie from Austin Peay University, one time after taking a shower. Wright put on his white cotton underwear and walked into the locker room. Now, keep in mind that Wright was also Black. Jabali literally ripped Wright’s underwear off of him, screaming that they were made of cotton and that he shouldn’t be wearing such a thing. His slave ancestors had to pick cotton in the field. ‘Get yourself some slick drawers!’” [4] Very soon, Warren was out of Kentucky and with the Indiana Pacers before the regular season started.
Years later, the New York Knicks still owned his rights when the ABA/NBA merger finally came to fruition. Intrigued–but aware of his reputation–only one question was asked by head coach Red Holtzman: “Do you have a problem with authority?” [1]
“No,” replied Jabali. “I have a problem with authority that is unjust.” [1] Jabali–still adept–never suited up in the NBA.
Throughout his adult life, Jabali, aware of the connotations associated with the term thug, detested the epithet. John McWhorter teaches linguistics, American studies, and music at Columbia University and authored The Language Hoax, stated, “Well, the truth is that thug today is a nominally polite way of using the N-word. Many people suspect it, and they are correct. When somebody talks about thugs ruining a place, it is almost impossible today that they are referring to somebody with blond hair. It is a sly way of saying there go those Black people ruining things again. And so anybody who wonders whether thug is becoming the new N-word doesn’t need to. It most certainly is.” [6]
Former ABA veteran Steve Chubin spoke on a podcast and provided his synopsis of Jabali as a human being:
The Handle Podcast – Friendship with Warren Jabali
INNERVISIONS vs. THE TRUE MESSAGE
Once earmarked as an assumptive, arctic militant off the floor, the man took his talents to South Beach for different reasons. He eventually became a physical education teacher in Miami (North County K-8 in Carol City) and mentored countless students. Known as “Coach Jabali,” some students considered him a second father. Warren also guided his fair share of adults, encouraging them to take their education as far as their potential would allow: associate’s degree to bachelor’s, bachelor’s to master’s, master’s to doctorate.
“After basketball, Warren never lost his [zeal] as an activist, and he seemed to find his true calling in the Miami area school system. He taught elementary school for years and was considered a beloved teacher and community leader. At one point, he was commissioner of Overtown Midnight Basketball League, an excellent fit for his mission to keep young people properly directed.” [1]
Warren’s mellowing was significant due to his second wife, Mary Beasley. Before their courtship, Mary, being coy, asked one of the students about the quiet, muscular P.E. teacher (whom her other “interested” colleagues had already dismissed as aloof, conceited and arrogant). One of them, Marcus, responded, “He’s tough, and he don’t play. But he pays for some of us with no daddies [at] home to play little league football and baseball. He comes to our games and gives us ‘high fives,’ so he’s nice too!” [1]
One of his former mentees went on to maximize his potential to the fullest: newly inducted Pro Football Hall of Famer Andre Johnson. The Miami native was so influenced by Jabali growing up that he would return home annually in the offseason to host a picnic at Buccaneer Park (Miami Gardens) in his honor.
After graduating from college, another mentee (Celeste Thompson) stated, “No one is ever going to take my wheel to succeed without me giving it to them. To my father, ‘Coach [Jabali],’ I promise that I will always remember that I am braver than I believe, stronger than I seem, and smarter than I think. I will never forget you. You taught me strength, and you showed me my niche!” [1]
His playing days had no social media or Internet, yet the grapevine around the league was solid. Thus, once an unfavorable narrative or label was established, it was hard for any individual to shake. The immensely talented Jabali, often seen as a violent malcontent, remained misunderstood throughout his career. Even as he matured, he left an indelible mark on the Black community in every city he played: Oakland, Washington D.C., Indianapolis, Miami, Denver, San Diego (and always his hometown Kansas City). If the organization served to uplift, he was a member/participant (Operation PUSH, Operation Breadbasket, Indianapolis Black Expo, Miami City Council, Speak Easy Tutoring [Miami]). He provided out-of-pocket scholarships to high school seniors. It was all congruent with his oft-stated life mission “to educate, motivate, uplift and empower African-American youth.”
Loose Balls, a popular best-selling book on the renegade ABA, provides verifiable information, statistics, and firsthand accounts from some players and coaches. Yet, its major flaw is allowing the expression of some individuals whose inherent biases could be detected by someone legally blind. Overall, the text did Jabali little justice. The man, often portrayed as a hooligan and dismissed as a radical, was respected and revered for his floor generalship and leadership amongst his teammates and peers of different hues.
Today, he is among the 30 greatest ABA players ever (All-Time ABA Team selection). In addition to his accolades, Warren was a four-time All-Star and one-time First Team ABA All-Pro in his seven-year career. Although the latter years may have been affected by injuries to his back and knees, he still has career averages of 17.1 points, 6.7 rebounds, and 5.3 assists per game. At 6 feet 2 inches, he functioned as a point guard, shooting guard, and a small forward. During his 16-game playoff run to the 1969 ABA championship, Warren averaged 28.8 points and 12.9 rebounds.
Jabali valiantly dueled alcoholism, two myocardial infarctions, atrial fibrillation, and congestive heart failure through mid-life. Still, he was at peace. When he transitioned from this world (at the age of 65) in 2012, massive life celebrations honoring him were held both in his native Kansas City and within his post-career home in Miami. He left this world relatively young, but his desire to learn, share, and shepherd persisted until his final breath.
The man–like any of us–was not flawless. Jabali continued to study, probe, and evolve. During his heyday, many sportswriters and fans were repulsed by an athlete opining about the pitfalls of neocolonialism, the significance of Paul Roberson and Marcus Garvey, inequalities in education, or W.E.B. Dubois. Unfortunately, a substantial number of them would denounce him more vehemently today. In addition, he always had smoke for the league establishment when warranted. Jabali cannot alter any negative actions he exhibited in his youth. Just once, those familiar with him only because of his on-court moxie should delve deeper; he was far more than one of the sport’s “Meanest Men” or a ‘thug” with a strong game. Off the hardwood and in the game of life, he was also a champion in more ways than one.
REFERENCES
1. Beasley, Mary Alice, Newhouse, D., Thomas, D., Marshall, R. “Thanks To You: Memories of Warren Edward Armstrong Jabali.” Author House LLC, Bloomington, IN (2013), pp. 25, 34, 36, 39, 41, 54, 58-59, 62, 95, 98,101,109, 206-207, 215
2. Pluto, Tery. “Loose Balls: The Short, Wild Life of the American Basketball Association (ABA).” Simon & Schuster, New York (1990), pp. 151, 215, 219
3. Gatt, J. Hoop Holler. “Jim Jarvis On Being Part of the USA 1965 Team, ABA, & One of the Hardest Fouls in Pro Hoops History.” Hoopholler.com. April 30, 2024.
4. West, Gary & Gardner, L. (‘Pinky’). “Kentucky Colonels of the ABA: The Real Story of a Team Left Behind.” Acclaim Press: Your Next Great Book, Missouri (2011), p. 219
5. Banks, Lacy J. “Cinderellas of the Superstars: Bob Love, Roger Brown are Prime Examples of Professional Basketball’s Unsung Heroes.” Ebony. January 1972, Volume 3, p. 80. 6. Block, Melissa (host). “The Racially Charged Meaning Behind The Word ‘Thug.’”. NPR (Opinion)/ ‘All Things Considered’ Podcast. April 30, 2015
7. *Dr. Hawk conducted Lee Davis’s interview via phone in November 2024.
