| By Lisa R. Foeman
Pee Wee Kirkland – streetball legend and Rucker league high scorer in 1970 and 1971 – is embarrassed to say what Holcombe Rucker means to him. Why? Because his life may unfairly diminish that of Rucker’s. Kirkland is probably too hard on himself. His triumph over adversity is a testament to the enduring nature of Rucker’s legacy. |
Pee Wee Kirkland © 1999 TNT, Inc. |
| Kirkland’s life of crime began when he was 13. Allied with older Harlem ne’er- do-wells, he robbed stores, ran numbers and pushed drugs. Kirkland was a Harlem thug who even banked offshore to evade the authorities. For those lucrative exploits, twice Kirkland wound up in prison.
But before prison, Kirkland had chances to reform. There were the basketball stints at Kittrell Junior College (NC) and Norfolk State University (VA). Playing without an athletic scholarship suited Kirkland just fine. It “gave me a little more freedom” and it wasn’t like he needed the money; one foot always remained in the crime scene. Then, there was the golden opportunity for a streetballer- being drafted by the Chicago Bulls in 1968. Armed with a $40,000, 2-year contract, Kirkland ultimately chose to return to Harlem. Not because he was relegated to second team status behind the less talented guard Norm Van Lier as recounted in the many published accounts of Kirkland’s life. According to Kirkland, the real reason is because of a conversation Kirkland overheard between Chicago’s head coach and assistant coach. They reportedly said, “That Kirkland is an unbelievable basketball player. But you know what, what happens if you take him out of the game and (voice heard making machine gun sounds).” Enough said for Kirkland. He returned to Harlem continuing his life of crime and making as much as $20,000 per game playing pick-up basketball. |
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That life didn’t last long. From 1971-75, Kirkland served time in prison for a drug-related conspiracy conviction.
Convicted of tax evasion, he returned to prison from 1981-88. Prison was Kirkland’s Walden Pond. It was there that he acknowledged the “unbelievably positive impact” of Holcombe Rucker on his life.
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| “When I would always think back to Rucker, it was like one of the clearest sense of purpose in my life.”
During the second imprisonment, Kirkland repeatedly rebuffed chances to go before the parole board. He wanted to serve his time because “I knew my life was going through a spiritual transformation…I just felt like that whenever it was the right time God wanted me out, I’d be out anyway.” After his release in 1988, Kirkland soon returned to Harlem to rid himself of old demons. The man, who once owned fancy cars, rode the bus. Kirkland “refused help from people because I wanted to strip myself of the old image and the only way to do it was to come back to New York and just be a common ordinary person.” In 1990, he founded School of Skillz, a program financially backed by Nike that stresses education and shows young boys and girls (ages 7-17) how to realistically deal with life issues. On the educational front, Kirkland models the desired behavior. He’ll earn a Master’s Degree in May and will start a doctoral program this summer. Giving back to the community is important to Kirkland. That’s why he believes that NBA players from the ‘hood have “an [] obligation to come back and do things for their community. [They] can’t keep signing contracts and allowing sneaker companies to dictate where [they] go.” More importantly, he doesn’t want the lives of today’s youth to mirror his own – “too young to understand what a mistake really is, especially a life altering mistake.” Holcombe Rucker would be proud. M April 2000 |
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