100 books like The Black Fives

Halberstam tells the story of the 1979-1980 Portland Trailblazers season, but it does so much more. I read this book before reading George Plimpton or Gay Talese, so Halberstam's personal relationships with the team were my first exposure to that kind of sports journalism.

I love that he didn’t choose the team’s championship season but instead covered the team’s breakdown and dissolution. It gives the book so much more character and turns it away from traditionally triumphalist sports narratives.

Grundy’s and Shackelford’s book is the best, most seminal book in the history of women’s basketball. I remember reading it and realizing how little I knew about a sport I assumed I knew so much about. It is always so mindblowing to really be exposed to not knowing something you considered an area of expertise.

That has always been such a great experience for me, and Grundy and Shakelford tell the story very well. As a historian and a basketball fan, I love both the rigorous historical work and the great basketball story the book tells. 

I love the Studs Terkel genre of storytelling, where the interviews themselves are ordered to tell a story without the author getting in the way. Terry Pluto’s book is a Studs Terkel version of the story of the ABA, an outlaw basketball league that was even crazier in real life than in caricature.

Hearing from the players and administrators themselves brought the ABA to life for me in a way that it never had in more traditional histories. I know, reading such stories, that there are things that get omitted in first-person accounts, but I can’t help but prefer to hear them in their own words.

I love when sports stories intersect with broader cultural movements. Those instances are what make sports matter. Elgin Baylor was an amazing basketball player, but he was also a civil rights icon. Learning more about that work is just as important to me as learning about his games, and Bryant’s work makes it so exciting to learn about.

This book is a graphic novel, giving Baylor’s story access to a much larger audience. I am not normally a consumer of graphic novels, but this one does the story justice and is so good. Even as someone who doesn’t normally embrace the genre, I loved it.

When Tai’s useless, always-high dad touches her best friend, Mila, where he shouldn’t, the girls’ friendship is challenged and changed. Tai, already ashamed of her father, wants to pretend the moment never happened. But, Mila can’t pretend because she lives every day with the fear and shame of that moment. After a summer apart, the two friends struggle to reconnect while also competing for acceptance into the same gifted-and-talented arts program. As both work to be seen for who they want to be, they must also learn to look back together at what really happened. I loved the portrayal of the girls’ friendship and the honesty of a story in which the “happy ending” doesn’t mean a return to the way things were.

OK, I’m stretching a bit to include this on my list.

John Thompson made his mark on basketball as a college coach, not from his two years as Bill Russell’s back-up with the Celtics. But I’ve got a personal interest here: I was a student sportswriter at Georgetown from Coach Thompson’s second year as coach, and as a junior and senior got to attend his weekly press conferences with the student press. I’ve often said I learned more about life from those meetings in Coach’s office than I did from any other class at Georgetown.

I feel the same about this book, written with Andscape senior writer Jesse Washington. If you read this book you probably won’t agree with all of it, but I have no doubt that you’ll learn from it. 

I was on lunch break one day in 2010 walking through Union Station in DC when I saw a very tall, elderly Black man seated at a table in the B. Dalton bookstore with a stack of books in front of him.

I smiled at him and he back and me, and then the man with him said, “Do you know who this is?” I said no. The man said “It’s Earl Lloyd, the first African American to play in the NBA.” It occurred to me then, as it has many times since, that most Americans know about Jackie Robinson breaking the color line in professional baseball, but until that moment I didn’t know who did the same in basketball.

And it wasn’t until 10 years later, when I finally read the book that Mr. Lloyd graciously signed for me, that I wished I’d talked with him about his remarkable… show more.

The National Basketball Association’s color barrier was not as long-lasting as Major League Baseball’s, but it was in place in 1950 when the more enlightened white owners and talented Black players shattered it.

Author Thomas recalls the economic justification for racism, with how one owner warned another owner that his “players will be 75% Black in five years and you’re not going to draw people.” Fears that racial fairness would ruin the NBA were ridiculous, of course. The first Black player drafted and the first to sign a contract were Harlem Globetrotters. Through deep research and interviews, Thomas explains in an engaging manner how the NBA was integrated.

This book describes the history of African Americans in professional basketball from the early years of racially segregated barnstorming teams, to the partial integration in the early pro leagues, to the slow acceptance of Blacks in the NBA in the 1950s, to the modern day.

But while Ron Thomas relates the personal stories of the main actors, Douglas Stark, who has spent his career in positions with sports museums including the Naismith Memorial Basketball Hall of Fame, offers an historian’s perspective and examines the social and historical context behind each step in the evolution. Bit by bit, we see the game and our society change as we learn how we got to where we are today. 

Here in Harlem pays homage to the people of Harlem in the first half of the 20th century. I loved how the rhythmic, musical verse brings the setting to life. It’s modeled on Spoon River Anthology by Edgar Lee Masters, but in a completely unique way that will really speak to YA readers.

The voices depicted in this poetry collection—especially Clara Brown’s recurring testimonies—make the book feel like a fully alive story rather than simple moments captured in time.