JAMES JONES (‘JIMMY’)
James Jones, still mentioned as a Pro Basketball Hall of Fame candidate, is a Tallulah, Louisiana native and Grambling University alum. While at Grambling, he honed his skills under the watchful eye of Hall of Fame coach Fred Hobdy. Together they won over 100 collegiate games and three consecutive SWAC championships. The 6’5” guard became a six-time ABA All-Star and a three-time first-team ABA All-Pro. Despite being selected by the NBA’s Baltimore Bullets in the 1967 draft, “choosing the ABA New Orleans Buccaneers over the NBA was easy,” according to Jones. [3] He was the second player to score over 2000 points in an ABA season.
Jones starred as a rookie with New Orleans; he continued to scintillate during his tenure in the ABA with Memphis and (like Govan) in Utah. “His ABA numbers included 19.2 points per game scoring average [and] a 51% shooting percentage…” [3] Jones is a member of the 30-man ABA All-Time Team and the Louisiana Sports Hall of Fame.
Mr. Davis–The Geezer–told me, “James Jones is probably the BEST I’ve ever played ball with.”
*JOHN SCHMITZ
The ball boys are part of the franchise.
Some become family.
John was someone many of the players, notably the Brothers, took under their wing at the age of 10. The ball boys often rode together to games and received rides home from players who
lived in the area. For a time, he resided just across the street from Pros power forward Wil Jones. John, who became a freelance artist and marketing guru, made it big, yet he is as down-to-earth as they come. He has done work designing murals for many celebrities (including for the estate of Elvis Presley and Graceland, Jean Klein, Bette Midler and countless others). After meeting all-star guard James Jones, he was introduced to (and became close with) both Wil Jones and Lee Davis. If prompted, Schmitz could provide two-minute monologues on every Memphis player and several opponents who stepped into the Mid-South Coliseum during that time frame.
Although he came up observing life through a different lens in Memphis, he was sagacious, insightful, and astute from a social standpoint. He had been exposed to and immersed in African-American culture. As a ballboy, he was loyal to the franchise. “We saw some good games. The Memphis players, particularly Davis, were my heroes. Davis was like a father figure. We still talk or text every weekend.”
“Growing up, I was often the only white guy in the room. Back then, I was always resentful of the people in the city for not coming to the games. I was always mad at Memphis for being so racist. You’ve got all these people who supported the college team, but they wouldn’t come to see these awesome players on the pro team. Tickets were cheap, but during the early 70s, it was all about [Memphis State University].”
To this day, racially insensitive individuals use a pejorative to describe the majority brown-hued city: “Mem-frica.” The term is not one of beguilement used within the Black community (i.e., Washington D.C. being dubbed “Chocolate City” or Atlanta as “The Black Mecca”). Instead, the Memphis moniker is rooted in utter contempt, scorn and disdain for them by other bigoted individuals.
Schmitz continued, “Memphis was just so far behind socially, and it still is in many ways… and it’s sad to think about… people don’t often see past the [skin] shades. If you slice your wrist, we all bleed red. People don’t often celebrate the differences we have. The people [whom the establishment] is trying to hold back are usually the ones actually lifting us.”
CHARLIE ‘O’
On-court talent came and went, and so did leadership. Initial Pros proprietor, a Mississippi “entrepreneur” (P.W. Blake), exited “stage right” only two months into the 1971-72 season, claiming over $200,000 in losses. Businessman Charlie Finley was tapped to save the day in Memphis in 1972, taking over from the league and public stockholders (who purchased stock in the franchise at $5, $10, and $50 per share the previous season after Blake pulled out). Penny-pinching and substandard reimbursements had resulted in the loss of all-star guards Steve Jones (to Dallas) and James Jones (to Utah). Personnel trades, brokered by Pros brass, often lacking basketball knowledge (Google A.W. Hart) and without consulting the head coach (whether McCarthy or Bob Bass), had been commonplace. Management dealt all-star (and all-rookie) forward and fan-favorite Wendell Ladner to the Carolina Cougars without McCarthy’s knowledge. The following night, irate fans protested, flaunting a banner that read, “Keep The Players And Trade Management.” Competent leadership is crucial.
Enter the new savior, a self-proclaimed “self-made” man, Mr. Finley.
“Flamboyant Charles O. Finley rechristened the team as the ‘Tams’ (an acronym for Tennessee-Arkansas-Mississippi), but it was a bust. The team endured player holdouts and dizzying roster changes. Its latest coach resigned.” [6]
Finley possessed a surfeit of capital, becoming a multi-millionaire before age 40. He arrived proclaiming to the city that he would provide the requisite financial support to make the Tams strong by spending it.
In the 1972-73 season, 24 separate player transactions occurred on the Tams in two months. They won 24 games and lost 60. Before the 1973-74 training camp, Finley needed to hire a new coach (Bob Bass had resigned), had no front-office administration and sold no season tickets. Finley commissioned the fiery, irascible Butch Van Breda Koloff (VBK) to head the team two days before their first preseason game. Despite a relatively impressive coaching record, the latter had difficulty staying sober. According to a first-hand account from a former player, “On occasion, I was convinced that [VBK] would get himself thrown out of games [early] and head to the locker room to [drink]!” By the time the players showed up at the end of the game, the coach would be “wasted.”
Finley–an eccentric who had constructed the three-time (1972-1974) World Series Champion Oakland A’s–had checked out in Memphis. He gladly allowed the league office to recoup control of team operations, buying him out for a reported $1.1 million. All told, entertaining yet unstable, the Tams went 41-127 over two seasons.
Momentarily, fate had blown out the candles regarding pro basketball in “Grind City.”
STACKS & ‘STAX’
Majority franchise ownership, as opposed to exclusive participation in sports, is essential. As revelations regarding current professional leagues continue to trickle out, racist whispers have become roars. One gentleman, in particular, had a stake in a professional basketball franchise several decades ago. He was a mega-talent as a composer, singer, and businessman (part owner of Stax Records). His name was Isaac Lee Hayes Jr. Yes, the Isaac Hayes: Black Moses, Shaft, “Chef” (on South Park), “Hammer” (I’m Gonna Git You Sucka). The Memphis, Tennessee native was part-owner of the Memphis Sounds of the ABA. At the time, his partners included Mike Storen (former ABA commissioner and father of ESPN’s Hannah Storm), Al Wilson (partner of Hayes at Stax Records), Avalon Vogelmann (Memphis businessman), and Kemmons Wilson (founder of Holiday Inn Hotels).
Hayes’ objective was to become “the major stockholder.” Unfortunately, the agreement, tendered in the spring of 1974, was, for unknown reasons, short-lived as Storen announced that he was going to “run the team [himself].” The venture was unsuccessful on the hardwood and at the box office. When the Sounds folded in 1975 (heading to Baltimore for a brief, ill-fated spell), professional basketball did not return to the city until 2001. The NBA’s Memphis Grizzlies would pay homage to the Sounds in the 2015-16 season by wearing their “throwback” red and white ABA uniforms. In addition, later, they would also honor and salute Issac Hayes. During the 2020-21 season, the [franchise] celebrated the life of the iconic songwriter and singer by donning “Soul City Edition” uniforms.
According to the official Memphis Grizzlies press release (2020), “the uniform’s black background and vertical stripes represent the grooves in the vinyl records Stax produced, delivering Memphis soul and music to the world.
The gold and turquoise colors throughout the uniform are pulled from Hayes’ 1972 Cadillac Eldorado, displayed today at the Stax Museum, and echo the gold records and legendary, international hits pouring out of Stax during the 1960s and 1970s. Inspired by African Kente cloth, the ornate ‘MG’ pattern trimming the neckband, shorts and left side panel of the uniform represents Hayes’ flair for fashion and voice for social activism. The vents on each side of the shorts accent the uniform with a Stax logo and Hayes’ trademark sunglasses, while Hayes’ name is emblemized just above the jersey tag to represent the mark he left on the design, in Memphis, and on the music industry.” [4]
MEMPHIS MADNESS & VARSITY BLUES
While professional basketball toiled to attain and sustain preeminence within Memphis during the early 70s, the same did not hold for college basketball. The Memphis State University Tigers were the city’s darlings during that time. MSU surged toward national crescendi in 1973 while the Memphis Tams struggled to put hundreds of people in the cavernous Mid-South Coliseum. Led by stalwarts and future pros Larry Kenon (junior-college transfer), Larry Finch, and Ronnie Robinson, Memphis State University basketball had over 7000 season ticket holders. According to several accounts, “There was subtle anti-ABA pressure from Memphis State University, whose Tigers also played their home games in the Coliseum. The university didn’t like the possible competition for basketball dollars.” [5]
The homegrown Finch and Robinson, teammates at nearby Melrose High, were considered basketball ambassadors for the team. Singer Issac Hayes befriended both, frequently attended their games, and occasionally would throw a victory party for the Tigers. That season the Tigers went on a magical run through the NCAA tournament, knocking off Providence, then earning a berth in the finals and a near upset of John Wooden’s vaunted UCLA Bruins. Although the game was tied at halftime, and the Tigers led briefly at the start of the second half, eventually, the Bruins pulled away for an 87-66 victory. That night, Bruins center Bill Walton was otherworldly, connecting on 21 of 22 shots (95% FG) for 44 points.
In the minds of many, mainly white politicians in Memphis, college basketball had harmonized the municipality. That was a facade.
“[Then] Mayor Chandler had already proclaimed that the team ‘unified the city like it’s never been unified before. Black and white, rich and poor, old and young, are all caught up in their success. Memphis is a better city now, thanks to the Memphis State basketball team.’ After the sentimental Senior Night, one columnist waxed: ‘If our racial barriers are lower, then credit Finch and Robinson for having a lot to do with it.’” [6]
The phalanx of ballplayers, with four Black starters, was by no means a panacea. The city had been reeling long before the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr. just a few years prior (1968). Furthermore, factions supporting Plan A, Plan B, and CAB (Citizens Against Busing) dueled uninhibitedly and openly. Police brutality–accentuated by the murder of teenager Larry Payne (seven days before MLK) during the city sanitation strike–persisted. In 1973, five young Black men were on trial for the “firebombing of the Red Lantern Lounge,” despite eyewitness accounts having “pinned the crime on a white man.”
“Memphians, black and white, paint the [Memphis State title chase] with great cultural importance. Yet, as with many myths, it hides as much as it reveals. The success of the basketball team smoothed over Memphians’ anxieties about the status of the university, the prestige of their city and the future of race relations. The language of racial healing inspired by Finch and Robinson occurred amidst political disillusion and a controversial court-ordered busing plan to integrate schools. The story of the Tigers’ season thus illuminates how sports can foster not only racial progress but also obscure racial divisions.” [6]
THE ‘LOC’
LeMoyne-Owen College (LOC) is often a footnote to the nonchalant observer in basketball history archives. The LOC squad, known as the Magicians, went 27-5 and won the 1975 Division III NCAA Championship via a 57-54 triumph over Glassboro State College (now Rowan University). Although often veiled by other more ballyhooed institutions within Tennessee (UT, Vanderbilt, MSU), they are the only school within the state and, at the time, was the only HBCU to win a national championship at that level. The Memphis squad was led by Robert Newman (MVP of the national championship game), along with Clint Jackson and Wally Parr. Sportswriters named all three players to the Volunteer State Athletic Conference (VSAC) All-tournament team.
The LOC unit, often branded as the “Forgotten Champions,” had no choice but to be great. At the helm: head coach Jerry C. Johnson, an NCAA legend who accumulated 821 victories in a historic career. Coach Johnson was an apprentice of another superb coach (and Pro Basketball Hall of Famer) named John McLendon, who learned a game of basketball directly from its inventor, Dr. James Naismith.
In all, Coach Johnson spent 46 years at LeMoyne-Owen. He transitioned in 2021 at the age of 102. The icon was inducted into the Tennessee Sports Hall of Fame (2006) and the Memphis Sports Hall of Fame (2019).
MEMPHIS BLEAK
The NBA’s Memphis Grizzlies emerged in 2001 after leaving Vancouver, British Columbia. The franchise has flourished, and pro hoops are at long last ironclad in Western Tennessee. Since then, they have featured many star players: Rudy Gay, Pau and Marc Gasol, Zach Randolph and Mike Conley. As contenders, they have perpetually kept the FedEx Forum full and are now galvanized by the uber–talented and still–maturing all-star guard Ja Morant. They win often.
Circumjacent to this 19,000-seat edifice, Memphis had another “franchise,” which, until recently, operated under the radar. Their squad, the now infamous Scorpion Unit, consisted of a “Starting 5” (Haley/Bean/Mills/Martin/Smith), a prominent “Sixth-man” (Hemphill), a myriad of tepid reserves and a nomadic general manager/chief (CJ Davis). Weapons of choice were not 3-pointers, leaping ability, or the willingness to box out. Their preferred armaments included guns, batons, boots, fists, and tasers. As unveiled on video, their physical conditioning was highly suspect. Rather than man-to-man defense, they favored a craven, gang-like onslaught. From top to bottom, their modus operandi was not a competition; it was to invoke trepidation on every occasion. Championship rings were not part of the equation; an opponent’s peace of mind, civil rights, physical health and existence were held in the balance at their whim. In their warped minds, they were sacrosanct. The “5” are ostensibly a collective placarding an incongruity of self-loathing and vaingloriousness.
Unlike the Pros, Tams, Sounds, and Grizz’, this team had gone undefeated for quite some time. Similar to the early Memphis franchises, this roster is now defunct. The city should benefit immediately if the “GM” and the departmental hierarchy—tone-setters for the culture—receive strong discipline and a complete overhaul. Their chief had commandeered a similar “team” in Atlanta known as the Red Dogs designed to scour, save,and deterge the town before hosting the 1996 Olympic Games. There will be no media darlings, no March Madness “Cinderella run,” and no NBA “chip” to save the wayward “blue” roster this time.
Utopia is frequently the stuff of dreams. Like other municipalities, such as Baltimore, Minneapolis, Los Angeles, Houston, Atlanta and Detroit, Memphis is going through something; but Memphians, if knocked down, will rise and fight. Many athletic franchises reside in locales with byzantine social histories, yet their teams have achieved stability and a place to call home. More than a handful of players and inhabitants have fallen in love with “The Home of the Blues.”
But sometimes, the home has predicaments that must be addressed sternly, abruptly and with much more than thoughts and prayers. Superintendency of the principled and incorruptible kind is sovereign.
Memphis, we’re pulling for you. We’ve always been. Keep rising. Your history is far too rich to have it any other way.
Words by Dr. Eric Hawkins (“Dr. Hawk”/@MDHawk on Twitter)
REFERENCES
(1) Pluto, Terry. “Loose Balls: The Short, Wild Life Of the American Basketball Association.” Simon & Schuster. New York. (1990). Pp. 106-107
(2) S.I. Staff. “Once All-Didnip, Now All-Obscure.” Sports Illustrated. SI.com. March 12, 1973.
(3) Smith, Jimmy. “Choosing ABA, New Orleans Buccaneers Over NBA Was Easy Choice For Grambling’s Jimmy Jones.” NOLA.com / The Times Picayune. June 17, 2013
(4) “Memphis Grizzlies Unveil 2020-21 Edition Nike Uniforms Celebrating Legacy Of Stax Records & Life Of Issac Hayes. NBA.com /Memphis Grizzlies. November 24, 2020
(5) “The Memphis Tams.” Remember the ABA. Remembertheaba.com
(6) Goudsouzian, Aram. “Back To One City; The 1973 Memphis State Tigers & Myths Of Race & Sport.” Study of the South. Southernstudies.olemiss.edu. March 31, 2016