Alldaz - DC Based Design Team

When the freestyle battleground on the blacktop is nothing but a scene on a mixtape, Curt Smith will still be out there ballin'. And isn't that really what it's all about?

WORDS: BEN OSBORNE :: IMAGES: MICHAEL SCHREIBER

The sun has set on the Berry Farms projects in Anacostia, the historic and infamous sliver of Washington, DC, just across the river from Capitol Hill. Most of the shorties have gone to bed, while the sound of sirens indicate most of the hustlers have just gone to work. As for those who make basketball their hustle, many are heading home after a scorching day on the blacktop, but not all. For DC hoop lifer Curt Smith, the end of a game is simply the beginning of getting to talk about it.

"Another rough game out there, but that's street ball, man. Ain't no complaining," says Smith, sipping some Remy and kicking back on the Berry Farms bleachers. "You might've thought that was a lot of people out here today, but usually it be jam-packed with people. I guess not everybody was trying to sit out here in 100 degrees, but I had to be out here. Summer basketball is my thing."

The unique city of Washington, DC -- not the politician-and-tourist-infested nation's capital part, but the real DC -- is home to go-go music, the timeless high socks look, more independent clothing companies than you can count and a funky array of ballers worshipped by fans who don't give a damn about their status elsewhere. Following a legacy created years ago by guys like Elgin Baylor, Dave Bing and Ollie Johnson, DC-area pros such as Sherman Douglas, Joe Forte, Steve Francis, Moochie Norris and Walt Williams get props, but the true love is given to the ones who haven't made it to TNT. And of this crew -- a group that includes Lonnie "L Train" Harrell, Greg Jones, Victor Page, Sheik "The Freak" Pearson and Earl "Pep" Tyson -- none get more adulation than Smith, aka "Trouble" on the court and "Bone" off it.

"The thing is that Curt has been killing from 1987 until 2002," begins Curtis Chambers, longtime fan and supporter of DC ball as the owner of All Daz Clothing Company. "Just straight killing. Every year they'll be, like, a new dude come on the scene and they'll be like, 'He got the crossover,' or this or that, and, 'He gonna get Curt.' Then time will come for the big summer league games, and Curt will finish with like 50 on that dude. Curt takes it personal if he knows someone is supposed to get him. So Curt will give the dude 50, and then the dude's confidence level will go down and he'll just be a normal dude."

During the game that just ended, a late-season battle in the Berry Farms Goodman League between Curt's squad (MR's Great 8) and the Holie Hole Mob, Curt showed what makes him the man without having to do anything spectacular. Aided in an ill three-guard attack by George Washington's Chris Monroe (the top returning scorer in the Atlantic 10) and Virginia Tech's Brian Chase, the 8 were in control throughout against the undermanned Mob. For the most part, Curt ran the show and distributed the rock, but whenever the 8 needed a bucket, he'd deliver.A 5-10, 195-pound point guard, Smith gets his buckets in workmanlike fashion. Sometimes he'll go in the post and outmuscle his defender for position, then catch the entry pass and back in for the layup. More often, he'll get in the lane and deliver a teardrop -- often off the window -- that would make Mark Jackson proud. Goodman League commish Miles Rawls, who goes as Snapper Jonez when he's rocking the mic, said it all as he called one second-half play. "Trouble Smith backing in, turning, off the glass. Patented."

In the end, the 31-year-old Smith played the whole game, totaling about 20 points, 7 boards and 5 assists as the Great 8 locked up a playoff berth. The fans, many of whom lined the court in lounge chairs with beer/cup holders, were indeed a bit subdued in the heat, but they managed to hoot and holler every time Curt did something special with the ball. Clearly, Curt's rep as the king of DC ball is soundly intact. "I've given it to everybody in this city," he states. "When I'm not the man anymore, I'll quit. But as long as I can do my thing, I'll be out here."

One of the Holie Holes, Jeff Arnold, chimes in at this point. "Curt Smith brings out the best in you every time," begins Arnold in poetic fashion. "He play big, extremely big. I seen him do it against Steve and Moochie, take them in the block and get his shot off with ease. The man play like he's 6-1 and with a heart that make him 7-2. Yes he do. He can do it. This is the neighborhood, the heart of the ghetto, and everybody here knows what Curt can do. He brings respect to the court and they come to watch him play and give him respect."

Being the king of a city without a multimillion-dollar contract to verify that you've made it big somewhere else wouldn't be worth a whole lot to many players.But as his Chocolate City friends and opponents make crystal clear, Curt is a different breed of baller.

Curt grew up in Watts Branch, a neighborhood tucked in the far reaches of Northeast Washington that makes up for the requisite inner-city crime with plenty of communal love. Curt was not only exposed to sports on the street, but more directly in his own family. "My father [Charles] was in the service, so he never played ball for nobody real, but he was always playing around the city," Curt explains. "And my uncle on my mom's side, Fatty Taylor, grew up in Watts also, and he made it to the League [Roland "Fatty" Taylor averaged 8.6 ppg in seven ABA seasons and played one year in the NBA - Ed.]. You ask the old heads in this city, they all know about my father and uncle."

All the heads know about Trouble's brother, too. Three years Curt's senior, Charles Smith was the wily point guard who John Thompson recruited to Georgetown in the mid '80s. Even post-Patrick Ewing, Georgetown was bad-ass in those days, and Charles Smith was DC basketball royalty. "It was pressure for me, since everything I did was always explained like, 'Charles Smith's little brother'" Curt says. "But if anything, it made me work harder. I saw the things that he was doing and I wanted to do them also."

Curt also had a good friend with the younger-brother complex, and it was a guy who would, unfortunately, turn out to be a big part of Curt's link to the tragic side of life. "Me and Jay Bias was always real good friends, and from age 12 on, he was going through the same thing as me," Curt tells. "He was hearing what his brother could do, and I was hearing what Charles could do. We liked it, though. We'd talk about how things were gonna be when our brothers got to the League."Of course, the Bias family's dream ended when Len died after the '86 NBA Draft, sending the DC basketball community into what Curt remembers as "complete shock, a shutdown." Curt and Jay Bias stayed close in the difficult aftermath, and Jay was even looked upon as someone who could carry Len's torch on a lower level, but he too suffered a tragic end. Jay was shot to death in 1990 after an argument at a local shopping mall. "When that happened, I was hurt all over again," Curt recalls. "That's why I stay out of trouble. I got my homies and that's it."

Curt didn't let these tragedies slow his devotion to the sport. He was a year-round baller through high school, playing AAU ball for a team called Slam N Jam alongside the likes of Grant Hill and George Lynch, summer ball at the Urban Coalition and Kenner League tournaments and in the winter for Coolidge High. "Charles had gone to Catholic school and that's where my mom started me, too," says Curt. "But that wasn't my atmosphere. So I ended up at Coolidge and played for them my last two years of high school."

In 1989, Charles was DC's college star and Curt its biggest prep star, with younger bro earning city POY honors after averaging 25 points, 8 assists and 5 steals, then leading the local team to victory over the US team in the Capital Classic by outplaying Kenny Anderson. Colleges should have been desperate to sign Curt, but all the balling and hanging with the homies had come at a priceCurt wasn't exactly the city's top student. Even though he chilled and stayed away from the organized scene for two years while his brother played with the Celtics, Curt never disappeared from summer ball, and since he had a rule of never turning down a game, his local rep only grew.

"Every neighborhood I'd go into, people would test me and I'd have to play them, and that attitude was a huge help for me and anyone who plays ball here...Then there were the pros. Probably my first summer matchup against a big-time pro was back then, against Muggsy [Bogues]," Curt says with a wide grin. "Muggsy from Baltimore, and that's our big rival. I always watched him and he would just turn it out. Knowing I was going to play him, my buddies was getting on me, like, 'You know you can't even get the ball past halfcourt on Muggsy.' So I'm waiting in the gym at Dunbar, and he walks in with his entourage of Baltimore guys, his little ass right in the middle of the pack. I stepped out with my team, and I went at him. Back then I was pretty quick -- not as quick as him, but quick -- and I hit a jumper over him, took him in the post a couple of times. I ended up with 53 that night. On Muggsy."

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