Vocabulary Basketball Builds Skills to Use After Game Ends : These Players Are as Good as Their Word

One doesn’t have to be inside to know that the game is already in progress. The sounds of basketball are universal--the staccato rhythm of a bouncing ball, the screech of gym shoes braking after a pell-mell scramble across a wooden floor, the clang of metal after an errant shot.

But the real action at Samuel Gompers Junior High is in the parking lot. There, young men of all shapes and sizes pair off, clutching pieces of lined paper close to their chests. Suddenly one boy, measuring his counterpart carefully, glances at some penciled scrawl and leads with his left.

“ Tantalize ,” he says.

The other boy responds quickly, throwing a right to the cerebrum.

“T-A-N-T-A-L-I-Z-E. To tease or disappoint by promising or showing something desirable and then withholding it.”

“That’s right,” says the first with a smile. “But what about truculent ?”

In another group, Dave Gordon, Dorsey High coach, dictionary in hand, is passing out last-minute instructions.

“Does everyone know their words,” he asks. “If not, the playbook is right here.”

A bemused reporter stops Locke forward Willie Franks, who is testing teammate Tim Durden.

“Man, I hope they test me today, cause I am definitely ready ,” says Durden, who rattles off five words in machine gun-like fashion.

Welcome to vocabulary basketball, the greatest invention since the wheel. Hyperbole perhaps, but not to a 17-year-old athlete faced with a Scholastic Aptitude Test whose multisyllabic-word mazes can be a humbling, even painful, experience. Especially for the pampered star who skated through high school, never taking time to crack a book.

This Saturday-Sunday phenomenon is the brainchild of Joe Clarke, a man who not only believes that a young mind is a terrible thing to waste but also has spent the last 15 years trying to make sure young minds aren’t wasted.

“I’ve always believed in the idea of ‘Education Thru Sports,’ ” said Clarke, referring to a slogan that has become the watchword of his youth programs. “That’s basically been the cornerstone of Camp Fundamentals, which we started in 1970. Bring kids in to play basketball but with the stipulation that it would be tied to learning. You want to be part of the program, you’ve got to want to learn.”

To this point, Clarke’s greatest success has been with a group called the Watts Magicians. Over the years, he has showcased their basketball skills in tournaments all over the country. Among its graduates are Reggie Theus, Michael Cooper, David Greenwood and Marques Johnson. But the emphasis has always been on education.

“I devised a list of vocabulary words, which became the 10 commandments of the Watts Magicians,” said Clarke, who works at Intercraft Industries. “I’d put words on a card and during practice, if someone wasn’t doing his job, I’d stop and say, ‘What’s this word?’ If it was responsibility , I’d explain what the word meant and its importance to the individual. A lesson, not just bouncing the ball.”

He and his partner, former UCLA star Willie Naulls, now a Los Angeles business consultant, have gradually expanded their operation. This spring, for example, nearly 250 athletes are competing. All of them receive T-shirts and tennis shoes. If they reach the status of Magician, all their travel expenses are paid by the Fundamental Foundation.

But there is a price.

“No, it’s not free,” Clarke said. “It costs them five words a week. They’ve got to know five new words, be able to spell them, know the definition and how to use them in a sentence.

“At the start of the program, I told the parents that the base word would be my autobiography. And each week, the kids have to come in with five words formed from one of the letters to get in the door. This week, the letter is O.

“We don’t test them each week. We didn’t test for three weeks and then we really hit them. Most of them knew all their words. Some had to do some laps. We had a coach out there doing some laps, too.

“See, we told the parents at the start that if their kids didn’t know the words, they’d have to run laps with their kids and thumb through a dictionary trying to find the words. The same thing for the coaches. We don’t want the kids here if they’re just submitting words or jiving that they know the words.”

Taft Lee, whose son, David, plays for Banning, believes that Clarke is a man of his word.

“This league is the best league I’ve ever dealt with because of the academic aspect of it,” he said. “They preach academics, vocabulary and pay attention to how they write. And the importance of feeling good about themselves as people and as students.

“What also impresses me is the sportsmanship. If you elbow or curse or get on a referee, you’re gone. And they put pressure on the coaches to make sure the boys get their vocabulary words and do what they’re supposed to do so they can become ballplayers of integrity.”

And what about his own role?

“This morning, I put the dictionary next to David’s bed and I would have choked him to death if he hadn’t known his words. I make him turn in 10 words a weekend, five on Saturday and five on Sunday.

“His mother has never liked leagues. I mean, no league in nothing. I mean nothing. But she likes this because it isn’t just basketball. They’re pushing education.”

Barbara Henderson, mother of Dorsey junior Darius Henderson, makes it a point to go over the words with her son, but she was wearing tennis shoes just in case.

“This is not just running up and down the court trying to be a superstar,” she said. “It is extremely positive because it’s teaching Darius how to understand discipline and how to apply more words in everyday situations.

“I’ve always told him education comes first. But it’s hard to impress on kids. He might make college. He might make it to the pros. Who knows? But how long is that going to last? You have to be educated to succeed.”

Helenor Webb, whose son, Floyd, plays for Westchester and Coach Edward Azzam, believes that Azzam has taken the league’s concept a step further.

“If he has a young man with a 3.5 and his grades drop to a 3.0, he’s on the bench,” Webb said. “He won’t play them. He stresses academics. Floyd could have played in the Slam ‘n’ Jam League, and that costs $105. But he chose to play in this. That makes you feel so good when your children choose to do something that will eventually help them.”

To steal one of Floyd Webb’s words, it would be nice to report that vocabulary basketball is a Utopia where everyone masters the words, or that every athlete is a model of decorum. But boys will be boys.

On a recent Saturday, Cleveland’s Trevor Wilson, one of the best players in California, refused to be questioned about his words and bolted from the gym. His behavior so disappointed his coach that earlier this week Wilson was dismissed from the team.

Later that same Saturday, only three of 11 players on the Washington team submitted words. The insubordination resulted in 40 technical fouls before the game started and a stern reprimand from Clarke delivered in front of 100 people. The embarrassed silence that followed may improve the memories of Washington players.

If Clarke is the visionary, Naulls is the pragmatist, constantly reaching out to the business community for donations to keep the foundation running. Naulls is successful and articulate, a perfect spokesman for a concept he believes in wholeheartedly. He envisions the program as a steppingstone to the job market, a tool with which young men will someday gain access to the power structure.

“These kids have so much potential if they are trained or afforded opportunities to work where their minds are used,” said Naulls, who has reached a tentative agreement with Chief Auto Parts in hopes of creating a summer job program. “It gives them a more realistic approach to becoming a productive citizen.

“This makes them think about words. I really think the perpetuation of some kind of racism is when you think in terms of black English or Hispanic English. There is only one king’s English that we are judged on for certification at the university level or in the job market.

“They don’t give you an exam that asks where you are from. It doesn’t say are you from the Chicano community or the black community and then base the test on your jargon or slang expressions. It’s all based on the mastery of English. We’ve always felt that the mastery of fundamentals is critical to the release of creativity.”

The current league will run until June, when Clarke and Naulls begin their summer program. They hope to start a program for girls, too, and have enlisted the help of USC Coach Cynthia Cooper. To the two men, there is always a place for a deserving youngster.

“We can always come up with a spot on a roster or another pair of shoes for a person who wants to learn,” Clarke said. “All you need is five words. It takes five words to get in the door.”