You’re going to see the Harlem Globetrotters at the United Center, and you’ve been excited for days. You’ve told friends and relatives, all of whom are envious. “Do they still chase each other with the bucket?” “Do they still jam the ball under their jerseys?” “Do they still stick the ball under their opponents’ jerseys?” “Do they still have opponents?”
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You’re taking the kids, of course, and you leave early because there’s a photo session and a “chalk talk” with the players, and you want to catch everything. This is your payback for all those years of Barney & Friends. No sooner does the parking-lot attendant take your $16 than you’re wising off: “The level of play is about the same as the Lakers and the Bulls.” “What’s the spread?” “This could be the Nationals’ night.” “Let’s check out the Jordan statue and see if there’s a ring on his finger.”
Later you see Jackson on Chicago Stories, explaining that during the game sequences–which are distinct from the scripted comedy parts–both teams actually play to win. In line for photos, one guy asks Kareem “Best Kept Secret” Reid, “So, we get autographs after the show? I mean, game?”
At the United Center the Nationals are introduced with minor fanfare, their names and colleges announced. You’re happy to see that while the Generals were white guys, the Nationals are integrated. (Evidently some black guys can’t jump either.) Actually, says Klotz, the Generals always had black players. “Many of the black players from my team have gone over to the Globetrotters,” he recalls, naming Nate Branch and Clyde “The Glide” Sinclair.
