The Run
On the weekly hoops run
Bruno is a lefty and six-nine, maybe, so it’s almost impossible to block his shot. If it’s game point he’s gonna shoot it, so if you’re on his team just clear out. He didn’t play in college I don’t think because he went to Bard, and do they even have a team? He was Frank Ocean’s assistant for years, I think he once said. I’m not sure what he does now.
Tommy does this move where he really obviously fakes a bounce/chest pass, like with both hands equally, right in the middle of his chest, then pulls up for a three. I think because he’s selective about when he does it, it somehow works every time. He’ll do it in transition, which is just wild: dribble down the court, stop at the three-point line, fake a chest pass, and pull up. I’ve never seen anyone do this move how he does it. He shot one of Bladee’s videos, and one of Lana Del Rey’s, too. He’s the nicest guy.
Ben’s got this jaunty slo-mo up-and-under reverse layup move he be doing, where he puts a crazy spin on it. But most of all he’s Draymond at the top of the key, waiting for me or Marcus or Jackson to come off a down screen for a three, with an eye out for backdoor opportunities when they overplay the down screen. It’s so fun to play with Ben. There’s always exquisite ball movement whenever he’s on the squad. He wrote a book about basketball, he runs the run.
Marcus has a near Haliburton-esque release, like it’s almost two-handed, but his range starts at half court. He’s always got two knee braces on and various compression ankle things, but he’s shifty even with how slowly he seems to move. He can finish in the lane if you overplay his damn two-handed automatic three. I think he works for Complex.
Garvey’s got a Jeff Hornacek-esque, right-angled release and seems too small to be a big, but he’s cash with the couple-dribble backdown turnaround. I didn’t know what he did until one day Ben threw a pic of him modelling for the fall J-Crew campaign in our group chat.
Jackson was my favorite player to play with. If Jackson was at the run, we were gonna be on opposite squads to guard each other. Not even to compare myself to Jackson, my game is on a bad day Dylan Brooks level shooting, on a good day post-ACL-tear Klay – 6-for-6, then 0-for-10 – whereas Jackson was one of the purest ever shooters. I only compare myself to him in that, like Jackson, I never stop moving. You’d chase Jackson off of three screens and think you’d caught him and he’d slip off of a fourth and—wap. With insane range, like Marcus, starting the second he crossed half court. He was a painter, and for his day job drove the Fox News van.
Last I saw him was New Year’s Eve two years ago. He was always down to hang after the run, taciturn but naturally radiant, just glowing and friendly and joyful. When I ran into him at the party I got dragged to in the wee hours of 2024, seeing him was like an island. Everyone from the run is an island. We know some of what each other does outside of it, but barely. Irrelevantly.
Putting out a much-publicized novel is one of the weirdest, worst things, and when all that was happening, it was so nice to have this weekly regimented space where none of that mattered.
I remember some dude at the New Year’s party was all, You’re in the Cookies run, let me pull up. I can hoop. I grabbed Jackson and was all, Bro says he can hoop, should he pull up? Jackson, with that infectious gleam in his eye, not even being mean, still laughing, took one look at him and was all, No way, bro cannot hoop. That caught us all off-guard. I hadn’t expected him to say that, even if he meant it. But the run was sacred, was what he was saying. It wasn’t for any fool to pull up to.
It was rare for an outside event to come up in the chat. But Jackson was such an OG in the group, such a backbone, Ben brought it up: it was Jackson’s art opening. I’d been asking him about his art, but he was always self-effacing about it. The opening was in May and I was in Italy for the month when I saw the text. Right after I got back I went out to Jersey for a weekend with my girl, and that was when Ben called me and told me. I was sitting on the beach when he told me. I couldn’t believe it, Jackson was so bright, he was such a light. I scrolled our texts, and the last one was from that New Year’s, like 3 AM, he’d gotten locked out of the house we’d migrated to and was like Bro let me back in.
Tommy organized the wake. At a park on the river. I started hooping in the run in 2022, but it’s been around since the 90s, in the West Village, when the Beastie Boys started it. So many people showed up. We ate hotdogs, lit candles, and played a damn 40- or 50-person game of knockout. We lit lanterns and watched them rise up over the east river at sundown. I never made it to his art show. Tommy made T-shirts with Jackson’s art on it for everyone, now all we have is his art. And the model of how he played, and how gracefully he moved, and how brightly he lit up the gyms he entered—every time I’m reminded I’m inspired.
Sean Thor Conroe is an American writer and hooper.
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