Basketball is a Contact(s) Sport

in #life7 years ago (edited)

Basketball is a Contact(s) Sport at The Castle William

It’s mid 1960’s on the planet earth, I have just turned 19 yrs. old and have also just arrived at my new home to be for the next six months, located on Governor’s Island, which is a ferry ride away from lower Manhattan ,New York City , I had been missing without action for a month or so aka AWOL from the army, but no longer thanks to a few MP’s who with the help of the local police have found me sleeping in my old neighborhood on L.I. (uninvited I might add) in a stranger’s parked car, ah the days when people did not lock their cars, the thought makes me misty eyed.

I made a run for it but the Mps anticipating that surrounded me, so I have been arrested and both my legs and hands are shackled by three very large or seemingly large and definitely imposing MP’s, it must be those uniforms! and tossed prone in the back of they’re MP transport vehicle for the ride from L.I. to lower Manhattan and then Governor’s Island, where Castle William is located.

The castle is actually an army prison/stockade constructed during the war of 1812, and the King of said castle is a Lieutenant Major Cabey who serves as warden. Arriving to the Island late at night after the ferry ride over from Manhattan I am assigned a cot in the common men’s room for the night as my cell block to be is full until the following morning. Not my favorite night without sleep to say the least.

The next day I am issued some sheets and a blanket and assigned to cell block 11 and the bottom of a double bed bunk, not home at last. My roommates are mostly much older than me and Latin or black dudes, most of them are hard core criminals I assume as that is exactly what they looked like, call me judge mental if you like, most of them are awaiting transport to Ft. Leavenworth where the army sent they’re we wish we had never met these guys recruits. There are a few hundred prisoner’s not at home in the castle, myself and four or five other’s being the only white guys I can see, having just turned 18 I am the kid in this very dysfunctional family.

My first day away from my latrine bedroom is spent being registered for work details and assigned a job, kitchen helper, actually one of the best jobs to have as it had nutritional benefits for the stealing, it then becomes 5pm or so, recess time before lights out door closed, I am delighted to see that in the center of the compound there is a basketball court and a game going on, I mosey on over, a new game begins and I am chosen to play, I guess being the only white volunteer was an asset or rather curiosity, it’s 5x5 and physical, it’s half court as that is all the room available and it’s physical , no ref allowed, and anyone who complains is a pussy, at one point going up for a rebound I make contact with some guys face , he was a bit shaken up and has to leave the game, I think nothing of it, and since there was no ref either did anyone else, or so I thought.

Game is over and time to return to my new home cell block 11 near the light tower in photo above and on the top floor of the castle which houses about 23 men and me the boy ,where a commode against the far wall is the only décor worth mentioning, though from the back barred windows a brilliant view of Manhattan is available!, I am in bottom bunk number 1, the one closest to the electric door which is open until curfew time, around 9pm. I am day or sunset dreaming and wondering how the f I was going to escape from this place when I hear someone call out , rather loudly I might add: You, you, you Mother fucker get up! I do just that and not because I like the sound of his voice or because he mispronounced my name, Jeff, and low and behold it’s Mister the guy I made “contact with on the basketball court” speaking, he is with two of his nasty looking buddies’

I am at attention – attention to what I see as a possible problem considering the fact that he mispronounced my name Jeff by a long shot,sounds nothing like mother fucket in my opinion, and also the general deathly quiet that has taken place in the cell block, seems everyone is at frozen attention.

Mr. Contact Sport informs me that he has a broken nose, and insists, then insists again that I am to blame as in his opinion basketball was not that much of a contact sport, I beg to differ as to said responsibility, we go back and forth for a few moments with our you did, I didn’t conversation until I lose patience with his accusations and say: ok mother fucker I broke your nose on purpose now what?

And then? he and his two friends magically it seems to me produce homemade knives I assume they made in shop class. Looked to me that without choosing to be I was going to be in a knife fight without a knife, a very bad idea, but just then, luckily very, I hear loud voices accompanied by hurried movement from the rear of my cellblock, two huge black dudes, Contact names later found to be Ronnie Lord and Reginald Stinson from Brooklyn come forward and stand between me and my opponent’s (s) aka attacker’s
and eloquently in my mind made this statement to Mr. Bumped into and crew:and I quote: “nobody fucks with anyone in our cell block but us, and in this cell ![]
()block we are giving away nothing but left hooks, ass whippings, hard dick and lollipops!

Then after a brief I assume for comic effect pause they said this: oh by the way, “most unfortunately for you guys we are out of them there mother fucking lollipops!!” my accuser and his two mates immediately dis a fn peer, the two very large dudes turn to me and say: good thing you stuck up for yourself white boy-

Seems these new contacts aka best friends ever run the prison population including the guards, from that day on I never had any problem there with anyone in the Castle William, next day I chose the team at basketball time, however that did not prevent me from plotting and accomplishing my escape---------------------------that story soon-