Do you remember the ABA? That's the American Basketball Association, which started in 1967 and had that colorful red, white, and blue ball. The new documentary "The Waiting Game," opening Aug. 29 with a Zoom Q&A with director Michael Husain following the 7pm screening at Digital Gym Cinema, not revisits the history of the ABA but also highlights how its players were forgotten in a business deal gone bad.
I remember playing with red, white and blue basketballs and watching games on TV where that ball was used, but I had no idea about the history of the league or how the "merging" of the ABA and NBA left some significant things unresolved.
The documentary "The Waiting Game" opens with exciting archival footage of the renegade basketball league starting up. The footage shows how the players were boldly challenging the way the game was being played in the NBA. The ABA showcased the 3-point shot and started slam dunk contests.
It had stars such as Julius “Dr. J” Erving and George “Ice-Man” Gervin. Plus, it embraced Black culture by allowing players to sport big afros, a style previously not permitted in the NBA. That meant not only was the game being played differently, but also that the people on the court looked different, and both of those things attracted new fans.
Indianapolis Star journalist Dana Hunsinger Benbow says in the film, "Today's NBA game is 100% an iteration of what the ABA players started in 1967."
As the ABA won over fans and TV ratings, the NBA did take notice. In 1976, the NBA brokered a deal with the ABA to have four league teams join the NBA, and the remaining ABA teams would dissolve. Players agreed to the deal because they believed they would retain benefits from their years in the ABA.
But the fallout from that "merger" left the mostly Black players in a long battle fighting for fair compensation and recognition from the NBA.
In the film, Julius Erving notes, "You're talking about multi-billion dollar enterprise. You know, players who got screwed and I, I don't think that there's a wrong that will ever be righted."
"The Waiting Game" follows the founders of the Dropping Dimes Foundation, a not-for-profit organization that has been fighting to secure benefits for former ABA players now struggling to survive. Founded by Scott Tarter and Dr. John Abrams, the Dropping Dimes Foundation focuses on addressing the "well-being and betterment of former players of the American Basketball Association and their families, who are experiencing financial or medical difficulties and have encountered significant financial hardship or sickness."
Tarter was dogged in his legal pursuit for recognition of these aging ABA players by the NBA. Tarter was deeply moved by seeing and meeting former ABA athletes who were struggling to buy life-saving medicines and avoid eviction. Director Husain chronicles the fight to get them their due.
Abrams describes the battle as "really a biblical story of David versus Goliath. I mean, we were 3 guys that took on the billion dollar NBA industry."
Perhaps the most passionate and eloquently angry speaker in the film is Harry Edwards, professor, athlete, activist and civil rights activist. In one of his many impassioned interviews in the film, he says, "There are these former players out there who set the table at which you have people today making $30 to 40 million dollars a year. What are we going to do for them because this is bigger than basketball. What are you going to do?"
For years, Tarter tried to get meetings with the NBA, to drum up media support, and to get current NBA players to join the fight. But it wasn't until ABA player Sam Smith died in 2022 and left a photo of himself in a hospital bed with the red, white and blue basketball by his side that people started calling out the NBA on social media. C.J. McCollum, then president of the NBA Players Association, also took notice.
In the film McCollum explained the delinquency in the Players Association weighing in: "You gotta understand, some of us are, we got players born in 2000, 2003, 2004, so they haven't really been exposed to a lot of the history of the game unless they searched it, unless certain things are brought to your attention at times you're not gonna honestly truly be aware."
Although this battle has been going on for years, the film's arrival now brings into sharp focus how corporate America does not have anyone's best interest in mind but rather is solely focused on profits and the bottom line. The NBA representatives seem completely unmoved and unconcerned about any of the human suffering its so-called merger caused. One NBA lawyer brags about how he served his employers well by crafting a legal document that fooled the players into signing away their rights.
Perhaps the most chilling person is Kathy Behrens, President of Social Responsibility and Player Programs for the NBA. That's right, she's the person representing "social responsibility" and she thinks the decades-late and millions-of-dollars short settlement is not just fair and great, but came in a timely manner. She casually and disgustingly callously ignores all the players who have died in the interim, waiting for the NBA to address their lost benefits. There is just something about her cheerily matter-of-fact demeanor and smugness that comes across as absolutely offensive and insensitive.
In "The Waiting Game," director Husain highlights a heartbreaking story that is still not fully resolved. His film is a very straightforward documentary that opens with the giddy energy of old ABA highlight footage before settling into a more reserved journalistic investigation of the long journey to try and secure recognition for these ABA players. This isn't wildly exciting filmmaking, but it is a powerful story well worth learning about. And Husain zeroes in on the infuriating greed and insensitivity of multi-billion-dollar corporations like the NBA. But the work of Tarter, Abrams and the remaining vocal ABA players is an inspiring counterpoint, and a reminder that there are good people out there working hard to do the right thing for no other reason than it is the right thing to do.
