When he said that, when he let it all out, we just tore loose. Because that’s what we were thinking to ourselves. We were thinking that we played us some ball. I mean, we played us some B-A-L-L! We might have blown the game, but when we had our stuff together out on that court, it was together! Hearing Cal say it just put the icing on the cake.

“I think we could have beat the Knicks tonight,” Paul said.

“Depends on whether or not Cartwright was hot,” Cal said.

I took a look at that sucker, and he was really getting off on us having played so well. He was enjoying it as much as we were. He danced around with Joni and Leora until they split, and then one by one everybody left until it was just me and him left. We joked around until I was just about high, and then we locked up the center and split, too.

“Where you going, man?” Cal asked.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Maybe I’ll follow you home. We can’t be letting our coach out too late.”

“Well, you are welcome to accompany me to my abode,” he said. “And when you get there, you rest your load or use the commode, or you can just tip your hat and hit the road.”

Cal and I walked toward his place. I wasn’t sure when we started out if I was going to go in with him; I just wanted to drag out the day as long as I could. We rapped as we went uptown to where he lived, mostly about basketball and about the way the neighborhood had changed.

“Yeah,” Cal said, “it’s gone down a lot, you know. When the white folks found out they weren’t welcome, they made sure they weren’t going to leave anything up here that anybody would want. Close down the hospitals, close down the schools, they’d probably close down the streets if we’d let them.”

“Yeah, it can be a ratty place to live,” I said.

“On the other hand.” Cal looked at me with a big grin. “Harlem ain’t Paris, and Harlem ain’t Rome. It may not suit you, but I call it home.”

“Where you get all them corny sayings?” I asked. “The first time I saw you you were talking something about big feet. You probably don’t even remember that now.”

“Your feets too big …” He started singing that song again. “I really hates you ’cause your feets too big.”

“That is one crazy song,” I said. “I never heard that song before.”

“Me and my woman, that was our song,” he said. “Here’s where I live. That’s an old Fats Waller song. I went up to see Aggie one day, and well, she was something special to me. I asked her if she could really go for a guy like me, something like that. She came over and sat next to me and started singing that song.

Your feets too big.