The most common refrain you’ll hear about the greatness of former players is something along the lines of, “Sure, he dominated then, but there’s no way Player X would be able to do that now. The players are just much more athletic now.”
Usually, that’s an accurate assessment. Clearly, George Mikan would not lay waste to centers today the way he did half a century ago, and if you’ve ever watch any highlights of late 60s/early 70s basketball, it’s pretty clear that the game today is played in a completely different gear.
There are some players, though, for whom the opposite is true, that rather than benefitting from the times, they were punished by them, and were they born 40 years in the future, their careers would be much, much stronger.
Take, for instance, Al Tucker.
Al Tucker may have been born in 1943, but his basketball roots go back 20 years before that, when his father, Al Sr., became the first black man to suit up for Roosevelt High School’s basketball team. Senior’s abilities – developed as a child with a tennis ball and a wooden basket nailed to a pole - led him to Alabama State Teacher’s College, then the Harlem Globetrotters (or the Savoy Big Five as they were also known for a time). Senior spent a number of years traveling all across the country for the Trotters, including, believe it or not, a game in January 1941 against the Enumclaw Merchants in Enumclaw (where Brian Scalabrine’s red-headed grandfather, Obadiah Scalabrine, watched in awe at the very end of the bench next to two cows and a three-legged sheep. Okay, that part’s not quite true). The skills his son would show on a much larger stage 30 years later were evident even then.
“I had a special basketball move,” Al told a reporter in 1998. “It was a little deal where I’d come down just beyond the foul line and when the defense moved in on me, I’d give a fake and kind of swing over and slip away from ‘em. It worked so much they tried to make a rule ‘round here. Said I was traveling. Truth is, I was just running in the air. It was something they weren’t used to seeing and they said ‘Al, you are pretty slick.’”
And so, “Slick” Al Tucker was born. Less than five years later in Dayton, Ohio, Al Jr. came along, followed close behind by a younger brother, Gerald (Al’s wife was Geraldine; whatever creativity the Tuckers had on the basketball court did not, alas, extend to baby-naming).
It was no surprise when the Tucker boys showed an aptitude for hoops, what with their father around to show them the way.
“When we were coming up, we used to play at Blairwood Elementary and the city guys would come out to play the Tucker boys,” Gerald said in 2005. “And we'd run 'em right back down to the city."
After dominating at Jefferson Township High School, young Al surely thought he’d have a good shot at starring for the University of Dayton, but it didn’t work that way, not for a young black man in the mid-1960s.
“Tom Blackburn was the (Dayton) Flyers' coach when we got out of high school and back then I don't think he wanted too many blacks on his team." Gerald explained.
So, rather than starring for his hometown college, Al was off to the College of Knoxville. Tennessee. The early 1960s.
I think you can guess where that was headed.
“We had what they called the Tennessee Theatre,” Al recalled once. “And we would give the lady a dollar or whatever it cost to get in and she said 'Sorry, we don't allow Negroes in.' Next thing they're going to call the paddy wagon and take us to jail."
That essentially put an end to the College of Knoxville, and, seemingly, to Al Tucker’s basketball career. He headed back to Dayton to play for an AAU team with his brother and to await whatever fate destined for a 19-year-old black kid without a college degree in America.
In other words, nothing.
Luckily for Tucker, Gerald "Corky" Oglesby, a scout from Oklahoma Baptist University, came to Dayton in 1963 to visit a couple of prospects. While that didn’t pan out, he had heard that two other young kids might be worth seeing. His eyes popped when he saw the Tucker brothers in action, and Oglesby quickly got word to Bob Bass, OBU’s head coach, that he’d found something special. Now he just had to convince Al Jr. that Oklahoma Baptist wasn’t the College of Knoxville.
Gerald remembers the encounter: "I was more outgoing than my brother and said, 'Let's go.' Al wasn't sure, but after Daddy talked to Corky, he told Al, 'Get out of here and give it a try. You aren't doing nothing here but moppin' floors at Concord City.' "
Junior agreed, and just like that, Al Tucker had taken his first steps towards stardom.
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An NAIA school, Oklahoma Baptist University lies 30 minutes east of Oklahoma City on Interstate 40 in Shawnee, Oklahoma, a town of no more than 30,000 people. (Coincidentally, three months after Tucker arrived in town, Brad Pitt was born in Shawnee. It’s unknown if the young Pitt ever made it to see one of Tucker’s games.)
But back to our story. Al and Gerald arrived in town in the fall of 1963, not sure of what to expect. After his experiences in Knoxville, no one would have begrudged Al’s nervousness, especially when the Bisons went to play Southeastern University and he got called “Buckwheat” by the crowd.
Tucker, never one to retaliate with words let his skills do the talking, scoring 31 points in an OBU victory, his only acknowledgement of the painful taunts a raised fist after every made basket.
Helped by Coach Bass, who did his best to keep the Tuckers sheltered from racial epithets and taunting – an impressive effort for a white coach in the 1960s south – Tucker flourished at OBU, taking the team to the 1965 NAIA Tournament, which he proceeded to dominate by scoring 25 points per game as the Bisons advanced to the Championship before losing to Central State.
The next year, Airline Al exploded, averaging 36.4 points per game in the tournament as OBU claimed a massive 88-59 over Georgia Southern.
And, before you dismiss the competition entirely, know this: In the three years before Tucker’s three years at OBU, the NAIA Tournament featured a tough-as-nails center from Grambling, who averaged 22.8 points per game, including 27.4 his senior year. That center? Willis Reed. Or that other tournament MVPs included Dick Barnett, Lucious Jackson, Zelmo Beatty, Lloyd Free, all of whom posted solid NBA careers. To further cement Tucker’s abilities, compare Reed’s 27.4 ppg as a senior in 1964 to the numbers Tucker put up in his three years at the tourney:
25.0, 36.4, 32.8
Not bad, right?
Tucker’s final year proved to be frustrating, as the Bisons fell 71-65 to #1 seed St Benedict’s despite Tucker’s 47 points in the championship game. And, yes, you just read that Tucker scored 47 of his team’s 65 points, even though St. Benedict’s knew they had to stop him, as Sports Illustrated observed:
“Coach Ralph Nolan figured he had to keep Tucker away from the basket and started off playing him man-to-man. But Tucker beat that strategy. When he was not firing in long-range jumpers he shuffled inside for hooks, drives, reverse layups and stuffs. Tucker jammed in 47 points to earn acclaim as the tournament's MVP, but not quite enough to give the Baptists a victory.”
I think it’s pretty safe to say that Tucker’s bona fides as a college basketball player are solid. He spent three years at OBU, he was named All-American all three years, took his team to the NAIA Championship all three years, was named Tournament MVP twice, set a record for Tournament scoring that stood for more than a decade, and generally dominated the crap out of everyone.
So, yeah, I think Al Tucker was a good college player.
But even having said all that, I haven’t said enough, because when he wasn’t setting all sorts of crazy records, he was busy inventing the most exciting play in basketball with his little brother, Gerald.
You see, legend has it that Al (6’8”) and Gerald (6’1”) were messing around and came up with the idea that, hey, wouldn’t it be neat if Gerald lofted the ball up in the air and Al slammed it through the basket?
Yes, in addition to all the accolades, in addition to the tournament glory, Al Tucker invented the alley-oop.
The play would gain greater acclaim with David Thompson at NC State a few years later, but it is generally accepted that it was Tucker & Tucker that first came up with the idea. And while that sort of thing is generally tough to accept as hard fact, if you were to brainstorm about the perfect scenario for creating the alley-oop, wouldn’t a 6’8” dunking machine and his younger, smaller passing-oriented brother make a bit of sense? When you throw in that their dad was a former Harlem Globetrotter, well, it just makes a whole lot of sense.
Add it all up and you can see why an expansion team from Seattle was so eager to select Al Tucker with the 6th pick of the 1967 NBA Draft. On Wednesday, we’ll explore Tucker’s professional career.
References:Baptist Press (1)
