Loud and repeated criticism of one basketball player's threat to his coach may actually mask the fact that basketball has undergone a style change, one that reflects the increasingly pervasive attitude of hip hop. The problem goes well beyond the professional sport, according to PNS correspondent Ri'chard Magee, himself a rapper and avid basketball player, and is changing the playground game as well. Magee writes for YO! (Youth Outlook), a monthly newspaper by and about young people published by PNS.

Oakland, Ca. -- Maybe you had to have a foot in both worlds to see it coming. But as a rapper who loves basketball, I was not surprised at Latrell Sprewell's aggressive actions toward his coach.

The culture of hip hop has worked its way into the NBA. It started off in ways that were almost invisible -- a hairstyle here, a statement there. Then, all of a sudden, there was Kevin Garnett mugging for the camera, bare-chested, with his $7,000 plus gold chain swinging from his neck, Allan Iverson with his swaggering attitude toward the older players (even Jordan himself!). 

Given that most players coming into the league now are 20 or younger, and a large percentage of them grew up in the inner cities where hip hop shapes all the rules of their reality, this should come as no surprise. There are even some basketball players, like Shaq and J.R. Rider, who rap themselves and have put out tapes.

In the San Francisco area, Sprewell and Gary Payton of the Seattle Supersonics are regulars in local clubs. Payton has been known to throw some of the livest parties of the year. His guests include big-name people in the music industry, especially rap.

Rap's influence on the NBA is a topic from coast to coast. The Source, a hip hop magazine that now outsells Rolling Stone, has a regular column featuring a prominent rapper and a well-known basketball player interviewing each other. They usually discover similar backgrounds -- urban neighborhood with little in the way of stimulating resources -- basic respect for the streets, and a love of rap.

Louis B., a prominent rapper in the San Francisco Bay Area, describes this as the hip hop era of basketball. "The people coming into the league now all grew up with rap, with the music. It became their direction, defined the rules of their lives. When Iverson or Stackhouse walk you can tell that they're movin like that because of the raps going through their heads."

The hip hop influence is prevalent not just on the NBA courts. I grew up playing basketball on city playgrounds. The basketball court was my sanctuary, a place to go to relieve stress, where anyone could play. Today, there's a new rule -- "Take disrespect from nobody" -- and stress now resides on the courts.

It can start with just words. He told me how to play my position. I told him to shut up. He told me the same, so I cursed. He said the same, I said "well, what's up?" We got in fighting stance, but before a single blow could be thrown he was off and running, screaming "I got something for you."

That something was a gun, a chrome .25 caliber semi-automatic. He shot at me once before he ran away. Luckily he missed.

You don't necessarily have to do anything to fall victim to the violence -- plenty of my friends have been hurt solely for being better than someone else. David, 22, has been hit, tripped, pushed and threatened just for scoring, and Anthony was shot in the chest for "dunking" the ball. "I just threw the ball down and turned around to get daps" (the hand slap that shows recognition). "Someone yelled, I turned around and that's when I got this."

"This" is a circular intrusion on his upper right chest, about six inches around and half an inch deep, highlighted by brown and yellow scars where doctors cut him open to save his life.

"I mean I just dunked on him. I didn't start showboating and talking bad to make him feel bad. I just dunked and turned around."

Felicia G., a high school student in San Francisco, says, "At basketball courts all through my neighborhood, fights break out for stupid reasons -- someone stepped on a shoe or got bumped too hard. It's a game where you're supposed to get bumped, but now, you got people fighting over getting bumped.

"Now it's like my brother won't go play ball unless he has like seven friends with him -- or he'll take his baseball bat to play basketball."

Felicia also knows that rappers are the messengers of the streets. "It may sound corny, but if more of the tapes were about promoting self love and the songs were about getting along and stopping the violence, things might be different."

If this is, in fact, the hip hop era of basketball, it's up to rappers and players to change the rules -- from "Take Disrespect from Nobody" to "Respect Others, Respect Yourself."