Take me out to the ball game: Watching Glasgow Rocks

Emirates Arena is a big, wide, grey behemoth of a building. It cost £113 million to build and consumes 38,000 square metres of ground. The Rocks mostly play in its 6,500 seat arena, but Emirates also contains the Sir Chris Hoy Velodrome, a sports hall, a running track, five-a-side football pitches, offices, a cafe, a gym, a spa and a dance studio.

Inside, Emirates will be bustling, but outside is a different matter. While Celtic Park is to the north, to the west is a quiet industrial estate; to the south, nondescript housing; and, to Emirates’ east, the unoccupied Athletes Village.

Come the 2014 Commonwealth Games, the Village will accommodate 8,000 athletes and officials, after which it will be converted into public housing. Right now, however, the Village sits empty, which contributes to the quiet, uninviting feel that surrounds Emirates. The Rocks’ previous home court was the Kelvin Hall in Glasgow’s west end. There, a trip to the pubs and restaurants of nearby Byres Road before or after a game felt like part of the game day ritual. At Emirates, however, there’s a sense that fans arrive purely for the game before escaping to other parts of the city immediately afterwards. The area may become more inviting before the Games begin but, as summer creeps ever closer, any significant changes here seem unlikely.

I climb a set of stairs and arrive at an array of glass doors. Pushing one open, I enter the concourse. The floor’s gleaming white tiles remind me how new Emirates is. This weekend isn’t just the Rocks’ first game of the season, but also the one-year anniversary of the arena’s opening. Emirates are using edited photos of the Rocks’ Sterling Davis to promote their first birthday celebrations. Davis now wields a birthday cake and holds a balloon. The effect is…unimpressive.

Gaps in the floor reveal the reception area and staff on the ground level. Through one I watch a man diligently working behind a desk. An overwhelming urge to scream at him through the hole surprises me, and I have to force myself to walk away and wander the concourse.

The concourse begs me to open my wallet. To my left I can get official Rocks merchandise (replica jersey, £33). Ahead are two refreshment booths (hot dog, £4). To the right is the box office (two adult tickets, £22). Hidden shamefully at the concourse’s rear, the Groupon and itison desks offer collection of discounted tickets (two adult tickets, £11, for this game at least). I buy a programme (£3) and head to the arena doors, where a staff member escorts me to my seat.

Both teams are warming up. As with every season the Rocks sport a few new faces, but a couple of old coupons still remain. Players back with Glasgow for another season include Gareth Murray, EJ Harrison, Jonny Bunyan, and, as always, Sterling Davis.

Davis is a paradox. He’s seemingly been with the Rocks forever, but he only joined in 2006. He’s as old as basketball itself, but is somehow only 36. Every season I expect him to lean more towards the right-side of that player-coach designation, but every year he plays quality minutes, defends solidly, pulls down rebounds and hits important shots. He’s in the starting five as the team readies itself for their game, and season, to begin.

Glasgow are in black jerseys. Their opponents, Surrey United, are in white. Surrey United? Is that really the name of a basketball team? And why don’t their jerseys have player names on the back? Who are these guys?

Last season Surrey United were Surrey Heat, but they’re really the remains of the Guildford Heat franchise. They’ve had a tumultuous off-season: the team was sold and their coach fired. Just weeks before the season began, Surrey had only five players on their roster (hence the nameless jerseys). Early success can’t be expected from a team built on such shaky foundations; Surrey had lost the first game of their season by 57 points.

The game tips off. Glasgow seem very aware of Surrey’s struggles—they leak out on every United shot, confident of a miss and the chance of a fastbreak. This strategy works well for Glasgow as they build an early lead on a few quick layups. Gareth Murray catches an alley-oop and dunks.

And the place bursts into flames.

A bit over-dramatic there, sorry. Behind Surrey’s basket are eight black tanks. Fiery jets shoot from them as Murray swings from the rim. My seat is a few hundred feet from the fire, but I still feel the heat.

Speaking of my seat, I don’t like it. I’m right at the end of a row, if I stare in the direction my seat faces (which is, you know, how seats are supposed to work), all I see is dead space behind the Rock’s basket. I have to turn right to watch the action, and some man has had the audacity to sit beside me. When he leans forward, engaged in the game, I have to out-lean him to see. Minutes into the opening quarter I make a break, climbing the stairs to the mostly empty nosebleed seats of the upper deck.

I like this place. Mid-level seating is no way to watch basketball. You should either be down near the action—close enough to take a loose ball to the face—or up high, taking in the whole court. From up here you can see a team move as if on a string, a player double-teaming causing his team-mates to simultaneously reposition themselves, or a player’s drive shifting the rest of his team around the three-point line.

Glasgow are now paying for their fastbreaking urges as Surrey knock down a couple of threes. Still, the Rocks have the lead and are clearly the dominant team. It seems only a matter of time before United crack.

Glasgow finished the last regular season in third place, but were ousted in the first round of the playoffs by the sixth-seed Plymouth Raiders. If there’s a theme to Rocks history it’s playing well, but coming up short. Glasgow have one BBL Championship to their name, but have racked up a bundle of near misses, with three finals and three semi-finals losses in their 15 seasons. Could this be the Rock’s year to claim a second title?

The player to watch in the early stages is the Rocks’ new power forward/centre, Daniel Northern (can we nickname him ‘Northern Rock’? No? Okay then). He makes a quick impression on Surrey by blocking the bejesus out of their layup attempts. Northern is all wild blocks and energy and swinging dreads and uncouth offensive moves, similar in style to the NBA’s Kenneth Faried. Northern plays like a youngster with a boatload of potential, but he’s 27—this might be him at his peak. He has a strong game (18 points and six blocks), but it’s hard not to think his play will decline markedly when his athleticism does.

Fan-favourite Jonny ‘JB’ Bunyan checks in. There’s a theory that certain players resonate with fans because the fans can visualise themselves in that player’s shoes. Let’s call it the Allen Iverson Theory. If you believe it, then no wonder Bunyan is so popular—he’s 5’11”, physically unimposing, white, ginger-haired, and a local (he’s from Falkirk, a town 20 miles outside of Glasgow). The average fan probably can’t see themselves in Sterling Davis’ power game or the high-flying moves of Gareth Murray, but at least a few of the crowd aren’t visually dissimilar to Bunyan. That could be any one of us out there. If, you know, we were really good at basketball. Bunyan doesn’t do anything statistically impressive, but he shows poise at point guard, keeping the team’s offence running against pressure defence.

The first half ends with the Rocks up, 53-36.

Kids normally rush the court come halftime of a Rocks game, paying to shoot free throws for the chance to win a uniform or signed ball. But not tonight. Instead, a lucky woman has been chosen to take one shot from halfcourt. If that shot goes in, she’ll win a Phoenix Kia car.

The woman was chosen (by way of a randomly-selected seat number) at the end of the first quarter. She’s been talking tactics with a female MC since then. How tactical can you be about a halfcourt shot? Let’s find out. The MC asks her, ‘What’s your strategy?’.

“Just chuck it”.

The woman steps to halfcourt. She rehearses the shot—revealing she’s opted for an overhead, throw-in type motion. She doesn’t run or step up to get any momentum on her side, she just fires. The shot is up and…lands at the free-throw line, never getting higher than the rim. Her boyfriend—who was in the seat next to her, and with a wee white lie could maybe have taken the shot himself—is interviewed shortly after. He’s candid about his disappointment, how much he wanted the car, how he never believed she’d make the shot. The tension between the two floods the entire arena, pouring out across Glasgow.

The game is still enjoyable enough to watch, but it’s obvious Glasgow will win. My attention wanders and I have a nosy around the arena. Rows below, game footage plays on some monitors and an Apple laptop. I realise this must be for the new BBL online service that fans can now subscribe to stream 30 predetermined games.

I read my programme, and realise its official title is “Slate, the official magazine of the Glasgow Rocks”. Slate needs an editor (not that I’m one to talk). Daniel Northern apparently played some of last season “in Chilli”. According to Slate, the World Youth Netball Championships were “an exciting moment…for Scotland as a whole”. I know I was on the edge of my seat for that. Whenever it happened. What was it again?

As I peruse Slate’s pages, the very man who sold it to me wanders through the crowd trying to sell his last few copies. He climbs the stairs to the top row, then leans over, hands on knees. It’s a tough quad workout climbing away up here, and I almost want to buy another Slate out of sympathy (but I don’t). Still, if you think he has it bad, last season a seller would make his way up and down these stairs carrying a large backpack full of bottled drinks. I haven’t seen him in a while. Presumably the effort involved in his job killed him, and his corpse is rotting under some nearby seats.

During a timeout, the Rockettes, Glasgow’s cheerleading squad, perform a dance routine. Their members have changed throughout the years, but it’s good to see they’ve retained their remarkable ability to be out of sync with each other. There’s a distinctive yet unintentional timing difference between them, like I’m watching some of them on a digital TV broadcast and some on analogue.

The Rockettes used to perform during almost all timeouts, but tonight they’ve been used sparingly, the reasons for which I’m unaware of. There are seven of them, split between each basket (one cheerleader has been torn in half to keep the numbers even). During games they normally stand behind the basket and wave and jump and wiggle in an attempt to distract Rocks’ opponents who are shooting free throws. Tonight they’re doing so, but with no enthusiasm. It’s up for debate whether they know that the Rocks are going to win anyway, or they just can’t be bothered.

Jump by Van Halen plays, as does Whoomp! (There It Is), by Tag Team. I think it’s been years since I’ve heard either song played outside of a basketball game. Nicki Minaj’s Starships comes on, and it occurs to me that I’ve possibly never heard it outside of a sporting event.

Two projectors shoot the game onto a wall at one end of the court. Graphics occasionally interrupt the footage, huge text screaming ‘three-pointer’ or ‘slam dunk’. During dead balls, the Rocks’ logo flies across the screen. It’s a basketball on fire, which I then realise makes precisely no sense for a team called the Rocks.

At the third-quarter buzzer, Jonny ‘Bunstoppable’ Bunyan banks in a three to make the score 81-50 to Glasgow. Flames shoot from the tanks at the end of the court, and I imagine an errant flame setting a ball on fire, the ball briefly resembling the Rocks’ logo before bursting and shooting through the air, a flaming missile causing fans to flee for the exits.

The fourth quarter goes by uneventfully, and the game ends with the Rocks winning 100-63.

Kids hustle to a corner of the court to have balls and bits of paper signed by Glasgow players. I head down the stairs, cross the concourse, and walk out into the darkening night.

Whether the team and management give it much thought or not, the Rocks are the vanguard in culturally legitimising basketball in Glasgow. The game has come a long way, particularly in a city so dominated by football. The team now has a genuinely impressive home arena and thousands of fans willing to fill those seats. They have big screens and fancy graphics and fire. I left Emirates with a sense that the Rocks will continue to gain popularity. But, even if they don’t, they’re fine right where they are.