The Continental Basketball Association, or CBA (known to its coaches and players as ""this league,"" as opposed to ""the league""--the NBA), is as close to a minor league as pro basketball has. Here, free-lance journalist Levine, a former contributing editor for Sport magazine, chronicles the antics, frustrations, and triumphs of a typical year in the CBA. Inhabiting small towns (Rapid City, Pensacola, Topeka, and Cedar Rapids among them), the CBA has always suffered from lack of respect. But it further hurts its own reputation through an eccentric manner of play--no one ever fouls out; league standings are based on a convoluted point system that awards points for quarters of games won, with three points for the winning team--and by hiring referees who are generally as untalented as the players. In these lively pages, Levine follows the good fortunes of the Albany Patrons during last year's season (when they went 48-6). Here is Michael Ray Richardson (lucky to be playing at all after being thrown out of the NBA for drugs) saying that he has two things to say to his coach: ""Thank-you and fuck-you!"". And while their counterparts in the NBA count their millions, CBA players go through their 54-game schedule for a mere $8,000 each. Levine hopes to provide the CBA with a bit more stature (each year more of its players join NBA teams--54 in the 1987-88 season), so that they may shake off the reputation ascribed to one player by a sportswriter: ""a center with bad hands was traded for a sex act to be consummated later."" Many hoop fans will enjoy Levine's excursion down the poorer end of the court.