Recently, the readers of the esteemed Wall Street Journal were given an opportunity to share their opinion on “dunking,” the high-flying activity that has become all the rage of the basketball world.
When you think of “dunks,” you might think of Michael Jordan, or Lew Alcindor, or perhaps of Asher Price’s new book Year of the Dunk, which was reviewed last week in the Wall Street Journal—a newspaper that you, a Wall Street Journal-subscribing basketball aficionado, avidly consume. As a matter of fact, the comment section of that book review presented the perfect opportunity for you, the typical Wall Street Journal reader, to share your views on “dunks.”
While an expressive act, a dunk is still worth only 2 points. Oscar Robertson and many others entered the Basketball Hall of Fame without the dunk being a part of their repertoire. It is too bad that the dunk itself is a symbol of violence and domination, something that is all too much a part of the inner city experience. Lost to the pure athleticism of today’s game is gracefulness, passing, weaving, solid fundamentals and such from the 1960’s and 70’s
At 6’4 I loved trying to dunk. Kept trying a long time. Had no flightworthiness. Those guys and a gal who could do it were awesome. Finally learned to lower the basket to impress my grandkids. But jump and shoot still wins over the dunk.
I played high school basketball from 1938 to 41. The game then bears almost no resemblance to what is played today. The layup shot was the bread and butter shot, because if you touched the rim it was no goal. Keeping the ball on your fingertips was essential because palming the ball was illegal and often called when dribbling. I grew to 6’ 6” in high school, and tried to dunk the ball. which I rarely could do without touching the basket. Watching guys swing off the basket just doesn’t do it for me.
This has been: Wall Street Journal readers sharing their surprising views on “dunks.”