When Melvin Hammonds’ team, The 34th Street Runners, lost in the championship of a Long Island City street basketball tournament to Queensbridge Projects in the summer of 2000, all he could say was “We’ll get you next year,” along with various curses and insults. By next year, he was retired from streetball. He didn’t know it at the time, but that tournament was the last he would play.

 

Hammonds retired from playing competitive basketball and streetball at 42. He’d played since he was age 11, soon growing into his 5-foot-10 point guard frame. He had played pickup games and streetball tournaments around New York City ever since he was rejected from his high school team. In each tournament, he either represented his friend-group of people he’s still in contact with today, Queensbridge and Ravenswood Projects where he grew up and lived until 1985, or the many different companies he worked for which would sponsor their own streetball teams. 

 

Retirement from basketball meant no more practice and no more pickup games or tournaments after work in the evening. There was no more socialization and building of camaraderie with his teammates. Hammonds met his wife and many close friends through local basketball games and tournaments. Now, all Hammonds could do was work, spend time with his wife and three daughters, and try to find a new hobby.

 

When Hammonds retired from basketball, he didn’t transition to a 401(k). At 42 he had to choose between his income and the game. The risk of injury from playing basketball loomed large, and to get hurt meant his job as a heavy-lifting maintenance worker for Penn Station would be at risk. Instead of basketball, he prioritized the way he made a living.

 

Streetball has limited structure in its day-to-day operations. In the 1980s and 1990s, rules fluctuated. There were consistent tournaments such as the Holcombe Rucker summer tournament and the Entertainers Basketball Classic Rucker Park tournament, and there were many tournaments that would pop up at random locations, packed with players and spectators.

 

Companies such as EBSCO Information Services sponsored teams in certain streetball leagues which their employees had the option to play for and earn extra money. For those that didn’t want to work a full-time job and had the basketball talent to warrant it, the options were less reliable.

 

“It was drug dealers that were paying the players to play during the ’80s and ’90s. You might get $500 to $1,000 a game,” explained Mike “Boogie” Thornton, retired New York City streetball player. “The drug dealers were betting like $10,000, sometimes $20,000 a game. That’s why they would sponsor teams.”

 

In a 2009 study, Scott Brooks and The University of Chicago concluded that the demographic differences between institutional basketball and street basketball meant that street basketball featured minimal rules, which caused overbearing problems commonly associated with drugs, alcohol and gambling. Thornton’s description of streetball financed by drug dealers reinforces Brooks’ statement about the lack of rules.

 

A 2016 academic article by Francisco Vieyra refutes Brooks’ findings and makes the claim from personal observation that the issues detailed aren’t overbearing and aren’t what defines the streetball community. Instead, a clear display of a tight-knit community defines the demographic that plays streetball.

 

“If you’re a streetball player, you’re popular in New York City,” Thornton said. “Anywhere you go in the five boroughs, you’re respected.”

 

Mike Thornton’s nickname “Boogie” was earned thanks to his quick movement with the basketball. As a 5-foot-7 point guard, he would dribble with so much pizzazz that he attracted fans. One fan was streetball icon God Shammgod, who credits Thornton for inspiring him to play basketball as a kid by watching him dribble and embarrass his competition. Being Shammgod’s inspiration is something Thornton is proud of.

 

Growing up in Harlem, Thornton played competitive basketball ever since he was nine years old. He played in the various New York City streetball tournaments and played for two years at Jacksonville College in Texas on a basketball scholarship before transferring to Long Island University. When he moved back to Harlem after dropping out, he saw streetball as a nice way to make money, as well as a way to further gain a reputation in New York City. 

 

Thornton retired from competitive streetball at 26 years old. He felt he gave the game his all and had nothing left to prove. His biggest reason was alcoholism.

 

In 1990 during Thornton’s first and only semester at Long Island University, he found himself at many keg parties when he wasn’t playing basketball. He dropped out after that first semester and his drinking habits followed him, in moderation at first. After all, his primary focus at the time was streetball.

 

His focus changed after his team, Mosely Tigers, won the Entertainers Basketball Classic Rucker Park tournament in 1993. He never played another organized tournament after that. 

 

“I got my championship trophy, and that was it. I gave up. I couldn’t really manage. I had the attitude like, ‘Fuck it, I don’t want to play ball no more,’” Thornton said. “My teammates knew, I didn’t have to tell them anything, I just didn’t show up, that’s it. They probably were like, ‘yo Mike is drinking, he ain’t thinking about no basketball.’”

 

Prior to his final tournament, he would only drink after games. But once he won that last tournament, he gave up basketball to focus on drinking and partying.

 

While some used streetball to gain a reputation and standing in the community, others used it as a career stepping stone. It was a platform for some to earn a living playing professionally.

 

Growing up in Queens, Tony “Red” Bruin played alongside Melvin Hammonds in many streetball tournaments, making a name for himself as a highly talented player throughout New York City.

 

“When I was playing streetball, it was almost like a culture. It just gave us something to do, something to keep us out of trouble. It was a way of building your city reputation and stuff like that. It was all about fun and just gave us a whole different culture,” said Bruin.

 

Bruin was known for his highlight dunks and incredibly high vertical leap which he would use to regularly posterize his opponents and outstretch everyone on the court for rebounds.

 

In addition to his streetball success, Bruin was an All-American for Mater Christi High School in Astoria, NY. He played four years for Syracuse University, with his most known highlight being when he dunked on NBA Hall of Famer Patrick Ewing. He was drafted by the Philadelphia 76ers in the 7th round of the 1983 draft, however he wasn’t guaranteed a contract on the team and instead took the first opportunity he got to play basketball overseas in England. In the years that followed he played in Venezuela and Angola. 

 

“Nobody feels that they’re ready to retire. You almost have to be pushed into the rocking chair,” Bruin said. “But I mean you just get tired of spraining the same ankle. You put together maybe seven good games where you go injury-free and you think all that stuff is behind you. And then eighth game, bam, you come down on somebody’s foot.”

 

Bruin retired from playing professional basketball in 1986 in his mid-20s. After playing in a few semi-pro leagues in the following years, he was finished playing altogether in 1990. Rather than dealing with constant pain, he moved on.

 

“It's easy to play Monday-morning quarterback when you’re sitting on your couch and look back and say, ‘You know what, I wish I would have tried to stick it out maybe another year or two.’ But you know, you can’t really look back at it now,” Bruin said.

 

Dwayne “DJ” Johnson was a high school teammate of Bruin for one year at Mater Christi High School. Johnson retired from basketball for a similar reason to Bruin’s.

 

“When I first started playing basketball at the age of 11, I was told by a good coach that if you don't have the love of the sport anymore, if you don't feel like practicing, if you don't want to work on your game, you should just give it up because then you end up injuring yourself,” Johnson said. “I still have the love for the game. But my body knows that I can't go out there and play.”

 

Before attending Marquette University, Johnson played streetball. He played in the Rucker Park Pro League, played tournaments throughout New York City parks, and played AAU Basketball for the iconic New York Gauchos.

 

Johnson played overseas for 11 years until 1996 when at age 34, he chose to retire. He gave up basketball because he simply didn’t feel the reward was worth the risk at that point in his life. He made his decision on his own terms.

 

Despite his life-long hobby and career being over, Johnson was able to find himself quickly.

 

“You know, believe it or not, I truly enjoyed retirement. From when I was in junior high school until I retired…I couldn't eat a McDonald's hamburger or a Big Mac or anything. I didn't eat fast food. You watch what you eat. Things that I enjoyed I had to stop doing,” Johnson said. “Things that I enjoyed I was able to reintroduce to my system and enjoy doing them. And I wasn't able to do that when I was an athlete.”

 

Johnson became a husband and a father shortly after retiring. His love for the game came back when his daughter told him at age 5 that she wanted to play basketball. His passion returned to basketball, but rather than playing, it was about teaching.

 

Johnson got into coaching and helping kids develop their love for basketball at Boys and Girls Clubs and YMCA leagues in his local town of Columbia, Maryland.

 

Bruin’s main passion since retiring, similar to Johnson, is teaching kids to develop their love for basketball. He wants to help kids earn scholarships.

 

“There's a lot of talented kids in different areas that doesn't get the exposure like we used to get in New York City,” Bruin said.

 

Bruin coaches high school and AAU basketball in Hilton Head, South Carolina, where he moved to in 2006. 

 

Mike “Boogie” Thornton struggled with alcohol starting after his final tournament in 1993. In 2000, he decided to enter a detox program that lasted for around 70 days.

 

“I got tired of drinking,” Thornton said. “I didn’t look back.”

 

Thornton missed basketball after retirement from the game but never took the steps to play again. The next best thing for him was to coach, which he started doing in 2009 as a private basketball instructor. Thornton views his coaching as a way to give back to his community.

 

When everything was put on hold in March of 2020 due to COVID-19, basketball suffered. There was no indoor sporting. On March 26, New York City removed every basketball hoop at every city park before reinstalling them on July 7.

 

Damien Pitts of Gersh Park in Brooklyn, NY, described that although streetball players were angry at New York City, they understood the bigger picture of enforcing social distancing.

 

Thornton had to pause his Harlem coaching job as a result of COVID-19. In South Carolina, Bruin’s teams had to cancel their seasons. Johnson has seen his friends affected at their own coaching jobs. He was personally affected in the way that he has been unable to visit his mother throughout the entire pandemic.

 

For Melvin Hammonds, the lockdown helped him reaffirm his dedication to a quiet life.

 

By retiring from streetball, Hammonds avoided getting hurt, as was the goal. Retirement has been a way to increase the time spent with his family. The time and effort that would otherwise be spent playing streetball, he put into being a father to his three daughters. His goal turned into the desire to live a quiet life.

 

Hammonds hasn’t become a coach, despite his wife’s encouragement that he would enjoy it.

 

Hammonds keeps in touch with his former teammates. After all, streetball is a close-knit community, as Francisco Vieyra concluded in his aforementioned article.

 

“You enjoy the competitiveness of the game and the camaraderie. Those are the things that, especially for streetball, are the main focus. To keep up with your friends and to play the game,” Hammonds said. “I do miss it. I still go out by myself and shoot around and think about the old days.”