‘Soul Power’ gathering brings players, fans, family and media to sold-out Sie FilmCenter for nostalgic look back at Denver’s renegade basketball past

“Bring back the ball!”

That was Hall of Fame coach George Karl’s message to the NBA at Wednesday’s joyful, sold-out screening of “Soul Power” at the Sie FilmCenter. The new, four-part documentary series on the lasting impact of the American Basketball Association is now streaming on Prime Video.

He was talking about the red, white and blue ABA ball, of course. But he was also talking about … the ball! You know, the faster, flashier and more entertaining style of play that thrilled fans for seven glorious but (until now) largely undocumented seasons.

The actual ABA ball is more colorful than the NBA’s. It’s more entertaining, you might even say patriotic. Major League Soccer changes the color of its ball every season. The NBA changes uniform designs and court layouts about every 24 seconds. So, why not?

If you watched the spin of the ABA ball in flight, former Denver Rockets player Chuck Williams said, you could often tell whether it was going in while it was still in the air. “That was very helpful to players – and the fans loved it,” he said to applause.

The ABA also gave the staid old NBA the pioneering 3-point shot, a 30-second shot clock, the slam-dunk contest, younger players and a freer, more acrobatic game. Williams, a hometown hero of Denver East High School, the University of Colorado and the Denver Rockets, put it all into easily understandable lingo:

“Back in the day, in the NBA, they were not playing above the rim,” Williams said. “The ABA played above the rim.”

That’s largely because the ABA opened up professional basketball to underclassmen and players of color in unprecedented numbers. And that, more than anything, changed the game forever and for the better.

That’s why there’s actually no real need to bring back the ball. Because the ball – love, American Basketball Association style – is now the way of the basketball world.

A full house at the Sie

Wednesday’s screening, hosted by Denver-based SeriesFest, brought out a wide cross-section of players, coaches and fans to the Sie FilmCenter. The guest list included Colorado dance legend Cleo Parker Robinson, who was married to the late teacher and referee Tom Robinson and has shared a 50-year friendship with the Simpson family. There was Bob Caton, the legendary (and no, that word cannot be overused in this paragraph), winner of 550 boys basketball games as a coach for six powerhouse Denver high schools. And Steve Chubin (“Chubes!”) who managed to play for six ABA teams in seven seasons.

The Nuggets bought 30 tickets and gave them to the Metropolitan State University men’s basketball team. It was packed.

READ MORE: Our in-depth interview with George Karl on ‘Soul Power’

But the guests of honor this night were Karl, Williams, and the biggest star of my 1976 Denver Nuggets scrapbook, Ralph Simpson – a five-time all-star and the team’s leading scorer for the ABA era (1967-76).

They told the same kind of crazy, renegade stories the new, largely Denver-made “Soul Power” anthology was made to tell. The kind that are sure to amaze and bemuse the prevailing generation of NBA fans who aren’t yet 60 and might mistakenly believe time began the day Michael Jordan first stepped onto an NBA court in 1984. (Not so, kiddies.)

The ABA was born into pugilistic times that reflected the rough and tumble state of the country in 1967, as colorfully illustrated by Karl. He delighted in telling of a massive brawl that erupted during Game 4 of the 1976 ABA semifinals between the San Antonio Spurs and New York Nets. The flash point was Nets guard Brian Taylor elbowing Karl, a Spurs guard at the time, on the chin. It’s pointed out in the doc that while the NBA will surely fine any player today who leaves the bench to join a fight – in the ABA, you were fined for NOT leaving the bench to join a fight.

Denverites got that. The Rockets played in a downtown arena best known for professional wrestling and boxing – and that’s just the kind of entertainment the scrappy ABA gave them.

“That fight lasted 21 minutes,” Karl said to gasps from the audience. Police stormed the floor, and as the fighting intensified, an officer’s gun fell to the court.

“John Williamson and Rich Jones beat the hell out of us,” said Karl. “But I remember making a free throw with a blurry eye. You’d be in jail if that fight happened today.”

To this day, in San Antonio, Karl added, “that fight is called the Easter Day Massacre.”

Several speakers took a moment to acknowledge Tuesday’s death of legendary (yes, that word fits again) Nuggets coach Doug Moe. When an audience member asked who was the Coach’s “biggest stiff,” moderator Vic Lombardi of Altitude Sports – himself a former Nuggets ball boy a decade later in the NBA – jumped in: “Oh, there’s no question: It’s Bill Hanzlik.”

The audience question that stole my heart came from a young fan named Eric Goss, who happens to be Simpson’s grandson. It reminded me of a time in 1977, when my father was the Nuggets’ beat writer for the Denver Post. (My) Ralph and Woody Paige were guests on a KOA sports-talk radio show hosted by Nuggets play-by-play announcer Al Albert. Without identifying myself, I asked, “Ralph: If the season were to start today, who would be the starting five?” Without missing a beat, he responded, “Well, John — Oh, if I’m not mistaken, that’s my youngest son …” before rattling off five names – David Thompson, Dan Issel, Bobby Jones, Mack Calvin and Jimmy Price. (I was allowed a follow-up: “Mom wants to know when you’re going to be home for dinner.”)

With far greater poise, young Eric asked the panel on Wednesday: “What was your favorite game or basketball moment?” His grandpa chose a last-second shot to beat Indiana in a playoff game. “You never forget a game-winner,” he said.

By the time Simpson, who is 76 and walks with assistance, got out of the film screening, I counted six times he was asked about his famous daughter, the four-time Grammy-winning singer India.Arie. She was not in Denver for the event, but on a recent Father’s Day, she heralded her father’s many records and achievements. “All kinds of dopeness,” she said. “Happy Father’s Day to the man who showed me I really could be anything.”

Simpson’s wife, Shelly, told me afterward this evening was just what (her) Ralph needed. “I think this attention makes him really happy,” she said. “He’s thrilled about it, and we’re proud of him.”

Meanwhile, the panelists told campfire stories about how coach Larry Brown somehow made overalls fashionable. And the time he aggravated an entire city when he said, “The only good thing about San Antonio is the guacamole salad.” The fans got the last laugh, though. “They would pour guacamole on him as he walked to the locker room,” Williams said with a laugh.

They talked about how fans in those days were allowed to smoke in the arena. (My dad was known to smoke on press row.)

They talked about the many court challenges issued by the NBA to try to keep players from jumping to the rival ABA. Like when Wilt Chamberlain signed with the ABA’s San Diego Conquistadors as a player-coach for the 1973-74 season at the then-ancient age of 37. A court challenge by the L.A. Lakers prevented him from playing that season, though, so he coached the team instead.

Perhaps the most moving testament to the ABA’s impact on society as a whole, as explained by the actor-rapper Common in the film, is that “the ABA was the first fully integrated workplace in America.” (His father, Lonnie Lynn, played for the Denver Rockets.)

The ABA afforded an opportunity to Black players like Spencer Haywood to seek and attain economic power. To a point. Haywood (a former college teammate of Simpson’s) was 19, faced extreme poverty, and needed to provide for his mother and nine siblings. So the ABA allowed him to sign with Denver under a “hardship exemption,” bypassing the NBA’s longstanding rule requiring players to wait four full years after high-school graduation before being allowed to play. The Rockets signed him to a $1.9 million contract, which, it has been widely reported since, was written so that Haywood couldn’t have access to much of that money until he was 50. Haywood sued, and won.

Still, the widespread integration that turned Blacks and Whites into teammates on the court changed many attitudes off the court. Including Karl’s.

“I’m proud of being from the ABA, because it taught me how to get along with the Black players,” Karl said. “With civil rights being what they were at the time, it was twice as difficult for them than it was for a White man. But it was a difficult time for a White man to figure out where he could fit in, too. And with (an integrated ABA), I learned that I could fit in, and I am grateful for that.”

The oldest surviving player from the ABA days is believed to be Cliff Hagan of the Dallas Chaparrals, who is 94. Williams speaks for a lot of ABA veterans, the youngest of whom are now in their early 70s, when he expresses gratitude that this documentary was made now, before it would be too late. Especially after “Semi-Pro,” a widely reviled 2008 Will Ferrell film about the ABA, “made us look like clowns,” Williams said. “Soul Power,” he said, is the antidote.

“It’s amazing, after 50 years, that this true story of the league is now coming to light nationally and internationally,” he said. “It means a lot. It means bringing legitimacy to our league. The ABA contributed greatly to the NBA game you see today. The way I see it, the NBA is our game. And they have taken it to a whole different level.”

John Moore is the Denver Gazette’s Senior Arts Journalist. Email him at john.moore@denvergazette.com.

‘Soul Power’

• What: a four-part docuseries on the American Basketball Association
• Where: Now streaming on Prime Video
• Narrated by: Common
• Directed by: Kenan Kamwana Holley
• Appearances include: Julius Erving, Larry Brown, Moses Malone, Spencer Haywood, George Gervin, Rick Barry, Dan Issel, George Karl, Bobby Jones, Mack Calvin, Bob Costas, Charles Barkley and more
• Find it: primevideo.com