Keith B. Wood’s Memphis Hoops is an expansive account of Memphis’s deep relationship with sports and its even deeper racial divide. Across seven chapters, Wood focuses primarily on the life of Memphis basketball legend Larry Finch and documents his rise from local high school prodigy to the first African American head coach of the University of Memphis (then Memphis State University) basketball team. Wood uses Finch’s barrier-breaking ascent over a period of thirty years to highlight similar changes to the racial status quo of Memphis as a whole. Wood’s central argument is that the sports history of Memphis can be used to understand both the successes and failures of how the city attempted to heal the scars of its racially divided past—most saliently the 1968 assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Ultimately, Woods makes the case that the history of Memphis basketball is paradoxical. At times, it allowed the city to forget its past racial tensions and join together in celebration of its sports success. However, such success at times was also used to mask the city’s on going troubles with racial prejudice.

Memphis Hoops chronicles Finch’s early days as a high school standout who, under the mentorship of his coach Verties Sails, goes on to lead the Memphis State basketball team to the finals of the 1973 NCAA tournament. Woods then follows Finch’s professional career as part of the short-lived American Basketball Association’s Memphis Tams and then eventually as head coach for his alma mater. As Woods details, Finch’s status as the college’s first Black coach brought him personal acclaim and allowed both the college and the city to position themselves as racially progressive. However, Finch also faced heightened scrutiny compared with his predecessors, ultimately leading to his forced resignation from the team.

Woods’s research into the history of Memphis basketball is impressively expansive. He meticulously documents everything from team rivalries to media coverage of games to local sports scandals in an engaging and easy-to-follow manner. Moreover, firsthand accounts from family members of Finch and players themselves put the reader directly in the midst of Woods’s narrative. Where Memphis Hoops occasionally stumbles, however, is in its efforts to link local basketball lore with some of the broader stories of racial division and oppression in Memphis’s history. Episodes such as the Sanitation Worker’s Strike of 1968, the “busing” controversy of the 1970s, political scandals involving Black city councilman Rickey Peete in the 1980s, and the election of Memphis’s first Black mayor Willie Herenton in the early 1990s often come across more as set dressing than as part of sports history. While the stories of Finch’s career, his shattering of racial barriers, and his ongoing legacy as part of Memphis basketball all certainly merit attention in their own right, the connection between such stories and the broader racial history of Memphis is more tenuous. ~ Jason Jordan, University of New Haven

Modern college basketball fans can be forgiven if they associate the hoops history of the University of Memphis (formerly Memphis State) with Anfernee "Penny" Hardaway or Derrick Rose instead of Larry Finch. But in the early 1970s, as Keith Wood explains in Memphis Hoops, Memphians saw Finch, a star player for the Tigers, as a hometown hero able to unite a racially divided community. White and Black fans alike cheered on Finch and his teammates as they advanced to the 1973 NCAA title game, where they lost to the powerhouse UCLA Bruins squad. This biracial coalition, however, was short-lived and could not be replicated by other local basketball teams in the 1970s or 1980s as city leaders struggled with issues of race.

Finch and the '73 Tigers certainly merit their positions at the center of the story, but Memphis Hoops explores the city's basketball past through other avenues as well. While Finch propelled the Tigers through the NCAA tournament, the Memphis Tams, a professional team playing in the American Basketball Association (ABA), drew few fans after relocating in 1970 from New Orleans. One reason, Wood posits, is that Memphians perceived the ABA as a Black league and, as such, gave little attention to the squad, even when they added both Finch and Johnny Neumann (a local "great white hope"). In 1975, the Tams (by then renamed the Sounds) left town and tiny LeMoyne-Owen, a local Historically Black College, captured the Division III National Championship. Like the ABA squad, LeMoyne-Owen remained "hidden behind the veil of segregation" (71), unable to capture the heart of the city as Memphis State did two years earlier. Again, basketball was unable to live up to its billing as an avenue for "racial equality on the court and an opportunity to unite the city offthe court" (1). Fittingly, in 1986, Finch became the first Black head basketball coach at Memphis State, where he remained until 1997, providing a strong chronological bookend for Wood's work.

Perhaps the most important contribution of Wood's work is his understanding of how the seeming color-blindness brought about by the early '70s Memphis State teams masked deep-seated racial unrest in the city. In fact, as Wood argues, Finch "became emblematic of the myth that basketball healed the wounds of the city" (30). For even while celebrating their star player's on-court accomplishments, the "white establishment used the team's success as a political tool to divert attention from the racially divided reality that existed outside the arena" (35). Finch and the Memphis State Tigers were powerful symbols but ultimately were not able to permanently transcend Memphis's battle against racism.

In conducting research for Memphis Hoops, Wood interviewed nearly two dozen people to gain a first-hand perspective of the era while scouring scores of local newspapers and archives to bring this story to life. If anything, additional interviews—perhaps with white civic leaders—might have provided support to Wood's understandings of the motivations of those who created and perpetuated the use of Finch as a "new construct of blackness" (50). Likewise, the strengths of the book are certainly most revealing of the 1970s—six of the seven chapters are almost entirely about that decade—so readers seeking an in-depth dive into the 1980s or 1990s might be disappointed. These, though, are minor quibbles. Memphis Hoops is a must-read for anyone interested in Memphis basketball or those looking to better understand the city's racial divide in the wake of the 1968 assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

In Memphis, you often hear about how basketball brings the city together. Among the cheering throngs at the FedEx Forum, you will find people of all stripes, united in their fervor for the NBA’s Grizzlies or the University of Memphis Tigers. But can a sport straddle Memphis’ racial divide? In his new book Memphis Hoops, Keith Wood investigates the city’s history of race and basketball — and tells a complex, riveting story.

Wood teaches history at Christian Brothers High School. A former teacher and basketball coach at Millington and Sheffield high schools, he earned his Ph.D. in history at the University of Memphis. Memphis Hoops is based on his dissertation. Full disclosure: I was his graduate adviser.

He answered questions via email from Chapter 16:

Chapter 16: The central thread in Memphis Hoops is the story of Larry Finch. Why him? What can Finch tell us about the culture of basketball and race relations in Memphis?

 Keith B. Wood: Larry Finch’s basketball career spans an era in the city from the assassination of Dr. King through the election of the city’s first Black mayor. Many in the Orange Mound community urged Finch to play elsewhere collegiately. Instead, he chose to become Memphis State’s first star Black basketball player. The Tigers played their games at the Mid-South Coliseum, one of the finest arenas for college sports in the country. The coliseum allowed white and Black Memphis to congregate to cheer on Finch and the Tigers since it was situated geographically between white and Black neighborhoods in Memphis. In 1973 Finch led Memphis State all the way to the NCAA championship game, where the Tigers lost to an undefeated UCLA team led by Bill Walton. That tournament run generated incredible enthusiasm among both white and Black Memphians.

But outside of the arena, Memphis remained divided. Federal courts ordered busing plans to desegregate schools, which in turn led to white flight. Nevertheless, the white establishment continued to use Finch to quell the storm of political upheaval taking place before their eyes. Finch was a symbol of hope for a city torn by racial strife. The university, its fan base, and many in the city believed that one man could unify a city through sport. Finch believed that his basketball career was one way he could make Memphis a better place. Finch did unite the city behind its love for basketball, but once the fans left the arena, they returned to a city divided and struggling over race.

Chapter 16: In one chapter, you train your lens on the city’s star-crossed franchise in the American Basketball Association (ABA). Why did pro basketball fail in Memphis?

Wood: The ABA had a reputation as more of a “Black” league than the NBA. It was known for its physicality and athleticism. The instability of Memphis’ ABA franchise mirrored the political instability in the city during this same period. Professional basketball exaggerated race. Collegiate basketball’s connection to the city and its protective role in raising young student-athletes allowed Finch to become a racial unifier symbolically, but the racial animus surrounding Black players was exposed more vividly on the professional level. In the 1970s, Memphis was a city at odds with its own racial identity.  

Chapter 16: Memphis Hoops readers might be surprised to find a chapter about the LeMoyne-Owen Magicians, who won the Division III national title in 1975. Why did you tell this story? How does it reinforce the larger ideas in your book?

Wood: For years, the best Black players either played at HBCUs such as LeMoyne-Owen College, or they went north to play for schools that accepted integration on the playing field. By connecting the narrative of the 1975 LOC championship season with the myth that basketball healed the city of Memphis, it paints a more complete picture of race relations and sport in Memphis. Most white Memphians, even today, know little if anything about LeMoyne-Owen College basketball. LOC’s head coach Jerry Johnson learned the game from John McClendon, who in turn learned from the game’s founder, James Naismith. Johnson coached Verties Sails, who coached Larry Finch, who coached Anfernee “Penny” Hardaway. As LOC advanced through the 1975 NCAA tournament, their story remained hidden behind a veil of segregation. The 1975 Magicians remain the only NCAA men’s collegiate basketball champion [team] from the state of Tennessee. If basketball truly united the city, then the city would have supported LOC on its championship run.

Chapter 16: Memphis State basketball in the 1980s was something of a “best of times, worst of times” situation. The great squads included the 31-4 team that reached the Final Four, and yet, as you describe, it is an era of tragic hubris and missed opportunities. Why?

Wood: Coach Dana Kirk got himself in hot water, as he was plagued by a series of accusations, indictments, and investigations. At this same time, politically, the city’s old white establishment was fighting to maintain the status quo, while the Black community fought for greater inclusion. Over the six years that Kirk coached at Memphis State, the basketball program was mired in corruption, which reflected the scandalous nature of politics in the city. Memphis State was no longer the “Dixie Darlings,” as their 1957 team had been nicknamed, and there was nostalgia for the glory of 1973. Kirk had some incredible teams and made it to the Final Four in 1985, but by the end of his tenure in 1986, basketball became a symbol of all that was wrong in the city.

Chapter 16: The 2018 hiring of coach Penny Hardaway seems to have rekindled the civic enthusiasm for University of Memphis basketball. Do you see any key historic patterns in the reception to Hardaway’s coaching stint?

Wood: History seems to be echoing loudly enough that we need to pay attention. Larry Finch became head coach when Kirk left in disgrace, and he brought respectability back to the program. He recruited Hardaway, who like him, was a celebrated local star who chose to play at Memphis State. With Finch at the helm, Hardaway guided the Tigers to the Elite 8 and then had a successful NBA career. Hardaway’s passion for the game and his city led him to return home and begin investing in the community where he grew up. Memphians longed to return to the glory days of Larry Finch and Ronnie Robinson in the 1970s, or Keith Lee and Andre Turner in the 1980s. Former Tiger players, city dignitaries, and Finch’s widow were on hand to see Hardaway announced as the head coach at the University of Memphis. In a city that remains as divided racially over public schools today as in 1973, Hardaway creates an illusion of unity behind Tiger hoops.

Although much has changed in the Bluff City, much has stayed the same. Memphis Tiger basketball remains one of a few places where white and Black people can come together as one, if only for a moment. But in college basketball, the ending is rarely a triumph. Even Larry Finch, who rescued the Tigers program and had sustained success, was fired in 1997. Someday, unfortunately, the university’s iconic hero, Penny Hardaway, will be judged as harshly as Finch once was.

Many years ago, I (Aram Goudsouzian) invited Joe B. Scott, a former star on the Memphis Red Sox, to visit my class on U.S. sports history. In his presence, the students marveled. They relished this living, breathing connection to the bygone Negro Leagues. Mr. Scott passed away in 2013, but his team and era live on in a new book by Keith Wood, The Memphis Red Sox: A Negro Leagues History. Wood recounts not only the on-field action of a franchise that spanned from 1924 to 1959, but also its tradition of Black owners, its centrality to the city’s Black community, and its great heroes, including Joe B. Scott.