A century of Harlem Globetrotters magic

For 100 years, the Harlem Globetrotters have spun basketballs, bent gravity and stretched imaginations — but their legacy is bigger than trick shots. Born from the brilliance of Black athletes shut out of white leagues, the Globetrotters turned exclusion into innovation, transforming basketball into a global art form. And St. Louis has been part of that story from the beginning. From their barnstorming days at Kiel Auditorium to community clinics at local schools, the Globetrotters have long been embraced by Black St. Louisans who saw themselves reflected in the team’s swagger, skill and joy. A century later, that legacy  was on full display at Chaifetz Arena Saturday afternoon.

The world‑famous team entered the arena in crisp white jerseys trimmed in red, blue and gold anniversary lettering. Their iconic whistling theme song floated through the speakers, now remixed with a modern hip‑hop bass line that nodded to the team’s evolution. One by one, players showcased their ball‑handling wizardry alongside their coach, Scooter Christensen, who moved with the same smooth confidence as the athletes he guided.

Their longtime rivals, the Washington Generals, took the court next to a mix of cheers and playful boos. Though the Generals lacked the Globetrotters’ signature flair, they kept the score tight for most of the game — a reminder that even in a show built on spectacle, competition still matters.

Every Globetrotters game is anchored by a showman, the charismatic conductor who blends comedy, mischief and athleticism into a seamless performance. This game featured two: Hammer, who commanded the first, second and final quarters, and Wham, who took over the third. Together, they kept the energy high and the crowd laughing in true Globetrotter fashion.

Hammer set the tone early. When the announcer forgot to introduce him, he stormed dramatically into the stands, pointing at a random man and shouting, “Dad, they’re picking on me!” The arena erupted. Moments later, after receiving a proper introduction, he emerged from the crowd wearing a red‑and‑gold cape, soaring onto the court like a superhero returning to save the day.

As Showman, Hammer controlled the rhythm of the game. He made the ball vanish and reappear just in time for a teammate to finish an alley‑oop. He orchestrated spin moves, trick shots and comedic chaos that kept the Generals guessing and the fans roaring.

At one point, Hammer spotted a fan heading toward the exit. Unwilling to let anyone miss the show, he paused the game, sprinted into the aisle and gently dragged the fan back to his seat — a moment that sent the arena into hysterics. He stopped it again when teammates got distracted by fans, nearly missed the ball or forgot to play defense. Whether he was escaping a swarm of opponents or teasing the referees, Hammer kept everyone — players and spectators alike — on their toes.

Wham, the second Showman, matched Hammer’s energy with his own brand of theatrical flair. After hustling up and down the court and scoring tie‑breaking points, he dramatically announced he needed a water break. But with only one cup of water on the court, he proposed a dance battle to earn it.

Pulling out a silver glove, Wham launched into a Michael Jackson‑inspired routine to “Billie Jean.” The crowd clapped along, cheering as he moonwalked across the hardwood. Just as he hit his groove, a teammate tossed the cup of water into the air, splashing Wham — and the front rows — in a perfectly timed comedic payoff.

That teammate was Hot Shot, a shooting guard whose height never hindered his game. He sank back‑to‑back three‑pointers, sliding across the floor and disappearing out of reach before defenders could react. His antics and accuracy kept the Globetrotters ahead as the game tightened.

But the Generals refused to fold. With two minutes left in the fourth quarter, the score was tied at 105. The arena buzzed with anticipation as the ball zipped across the court. Layup. Dunk. Alley‑oop. The Globetrotters answered every Generals basket with one of their own, while the Showmen layered in sleight‑of‑hand distractions to tilt the momentum.

Fans leaned forward, breath held, as the final seconds ticked away. With two seconds left, the Globetrotters executed one last dazzling play — a soaring shot that arced through the air and dropped cleanly through the net. The arena exploded into cheers as the scoreboard flashed 115.

It was another victory for the Globetrotters. It was also another chapter in a century‑long story with a St. Louis connection. From early performances that gave Black families a rare space to celebrate athletic excellence in basketball, to decades of return visits that cemented the team as St. Louis favorites.

Living It content is produced with funding by the ARPA for the Arts grants program in partnership with the Regional Arts Commission of St. Louis and the Community Development Administration.