Warriors Return for Rugged Season

Turo Russell slaps the ball down to the floor with his fingertips, and with a short skip starts the first of five steps that will carry him from halfcourt to the edge of the rim, where he balances the ball, and then glances back over his head as it falls through.

On that note, Bob Richards, wearing his brown mesh Rindge Coach T-shirt, screams "Elevens!" and watches as Russell and about 25 other hopefuls reassemble for the final drill of the day's basketball practice.

Team's Old Man

Richards points to one of his players retreating on defense, and says, "That's Mason Gregory, the old man of the team. Turned 18 in June."

He adds, "People get the impression that all these black kids are 99 years old and have been playing together in the ghetto for years. That's just not true."

Richards pauses to stop one player from hitting the shredded mat behind the basket in the second-floor gym overlooking Cambridge Street.

"We don't play any of our games here," he says in response to a question about the dimly-lit facility. "We play over at the War Memorial across the street. Yeah, we get a good number of people at the games, but I wish they were more supportive. The kids need more confidence; I don't even tell them everything they're doing wrong."

Track Record

Not that his players are doing much wrong at all: They were state champions in 1973 and finalists in their division this past year, as Richards will readily tell one.

"They like to run," Richards says, as his disciples charge up and down the floor in a loose neighborhood brand of ball. He lets them, too, preferring to take as little time as possible in practice.

Class Philosophy

"That's my philosophy. It's part of their education, and they have a right to go their own way once the practice or the season is over. I don't want them playing basketball for four hours a day and not giving them time for books."

He pauses. "Of course, I can't guarantee that they'll study, but I don't go charging into their homes to check up on them. I leave them alone."

Apparently so. Steven Alsop, who graduated last year, was "one of the best players" the early-middle-aged Richards had ever seen. "He's at Northeastern now, but I don't think he's playing ball," he says. And Richards says, "I haven't seen hide nor hair" of one all-star from last year's Warriors.

Richards calls a halt to practice, and sizes up his all-black squad's chances. "We'll be competitive, even though we're a division smaller than all the schools we'll be playing."

Richard's assistant coach, dressed in an "UPWARD BOUND '75 MIT-WELLESLEY" T-shirt is telling the players, "It doesn't mean that if you get that uniform tomorrow that you'll keep it forever."