Stanley Ma calls it "The Bubble," but hoopsters in his small circle consider this a haven.
Photos courtesy of Stanley Ma.
There is almost nothing like the palace that Stanley Ma built.
Stanley and friends, to be exact. In a quiet neighborhood, more of a suburb than condensed urban setting, Ma once had a typical portable basket in his driveway. Three-on-three games were fairly common for Ma and his nearly middle-aged — most are in their late 30s or early 40s — hoop pals.
The rain was one detriment. With a lot of open space, the vision came to Ma: why not build a court surface, upgrade the basket stanchion, and — the crazy part — add a covering for the court?
“I call it the bubble,” Ma said during an interview on Oct. 6.
By early December, the mission was complete.
Dec. 6: "15 guys, 200-plus labor hrs, 12 hrs a day. Big upgrade to the bubble," he wrote on social media.
One more description would be accurate: mind blowing.
Not everyone believed. Who has the spare time to cobble together a plan like this? What about the cost? What about the neighbors?
Ma had all three in line as the potential obstacles fell like dominos. Ma is a car dealership manager, an organized man who relishes a project.
>> There has been an abundance of spare time since the COVID-19 pandemic went full throttle locally in March. The plan began to formulate then.
>> Cost is a real factor. Ma was willing to spend some money to make his personal hoops palace a dream come true.
>> The backyard of the Ma family has been a source of enjoyment for his children and neighborhood keiki since mid-2019.
Fast-forward to winter. The pandemic has not ceased. The palace bubble, however, is complete. It is nirvana for a small circle of hoop devotees.
Not everyone believed. Who has the spare time to cobble together a plan like this? What about the cost? What about the neighbors?
Ma had all three in line as the potential obstacles fell like dominos. Ma is a car dealership manager, an organized man who relishes a project.
>> There has been an abundance of spare time since the COVID-19 pandemic went full throttle locally in March. The plan began to formulate then.
>> Cost is a real factor. Ma was willing to spend some money to make his personal hoops palace a dream come true.
>> The backyard of the Ma family has been a source of enjoyment for his children and neighborhood keiki since mid-2019.
Fast-forward to winter. The pandemic has not ceased. The palace bubble, however, is complete. It is nirvana for a small circle of hoop devotees.
The concept of home-turf exercise began years earlier.
“We have three children, 8 to 10. That’s why my yard is made for the kids. Pool, jacuzzi. They can play soccer when we set up the soccer tents. My whole neighborhood come to my house,” Ma said. “With the pandemic, there’s no place open. You can’t expect the kids to be cooped up in their homes all day long.”
Turning part of the property into a play space for adults was a natural evolution.
“In May of last year, we poured concrete. A couple of my Tongan friends, they’re high-level masonry guys who can make it level and flat. Whirlybird concrete finisher was used to make it smooth,” he said.
Above all, having a place to hoop provided Ma and his friends with relief. Many of them were or still are longtime gym members. When the lockdowns forced gyms to close, there was no outlet for physical activity.
“Sanctuary. It’s like yoga or meditation. For us, all our lives we play ball. It’s definitely more fun when you’re competing. I usually do 1,000 shots (per day). I got the (contraption) that returns the ball. It comes back to me. You’re moving your whole body, your legs, your shoulders. One shot, you don’t feel it, but 1,000, you feel it,” he said. “Good cardio and the flooring helps. The key for me is having that good flooring. Without good flooring, old guys, even young guys, they play on concrete a lot, they get old, they can’t last long.”
Friends come over, but they stick with 2-on-2.
“The restriction is still five people,” Ma noted at the time.
There is peace and quiet where the Ma ohana lives, but he is active.
“We have three houses within our property, three units. A duplex with three units,” he said.
Besides the court, he is an avid weight lifter, and has friends over for workouts. The project, though, is possibly the only one of its kid in the islands.
“We call it a dome. We’ve been coming up with different names. Lights, (two) cameras and TV set up for instant replay,” Ma said.
Because of his family, Ma is strict about the circle of friends who play in the dome.
“We dropped a lot of guys that want to come because they’re playing outdoors. There’s a limited risk, meeting different guys at parks to play. We dropped them,” he said. “That’s what the dangerous thing is. They don’t just play in one place, they go to three or four places. That’s what we used to do when we were young. Get in a car, go to Kaneohe, go back to town, come to Pearl City. Run out of games, go to the next place. Go to Burger King, get a whopper. This is what kids do. So that’s what can really spread it.”
So, the circle of hoopsters at Ma’s dome made a pact.
“We just made a commitment to not play outdoor (at parks) at all. It keeps us safe. That’s why we call ourselves the bubble. Keep it to ourselves. It’s fun playing without going somewhere to play 20 guys. It’s fun and exercise,” he said.
That sense of unity is what got the project moving. It began with the surface. While the gym has a wooden floor, playing at parks on asphalt isn’t Ma’s cup of tea.
“I’m old, so I don’t want to play on concrete. We have a custom rubber flooring that’s 7/8ths of an inch thick,” he said. “The flooring, I got a special custom order that’s extra thick just for the knees. Normally, the thickest is maybe three-quarters (of an inch) if you can find those.”
The structure is unique. Plenty of detailed planning.
“We pretty much built it from the ground up. It’s very customized within an inch of everything. Everything was pieced really well. Aluminum frame. (It is) impossible to find a tent has no support on the inside. Everything came in two truckloads, probably would fit in a 40-foot container.”
The manpower element was priceless.
“It took three days, a bunch of guys to put it together. We were shocked, too. Lot of guys were saying, ‘Why are we doing this, the tarp was fine,’ but it’s going to be rainy season soon. We all took ownership of this project. We put sweat into it. I don’t know how to say, but people feel like it belongs to them. We had so much fun. We barbecue, had a TV on to watch the Lakers game,” Ma said. “This tent creates an echo and it contains any noise so well.”
This is not the kind of thing that comes in a DIY package.
“I don’t think it’s replicable, real hard to do. No. 1, got to have lot of space. No. 2, it’s real expensive,” he said.
Prior to the pandemic, backyard pickup games under the sun were the norm. That’s when the original “dome” was built.
“We were playing on Saturdays, 10 a.m. and play until 3 p.m. Everybody gets sunburned. We loved it so much, nobody cared. Everybody brings their meat, drinks, we grill, barbecue. Eventually, we were, ‘We gotta do something. This is too hot.’
“I tried to go the cheap route, duct tape posts, stabilize, 3-inch pipes. I put those in to stabilize the four corners from the ghetto-style EZ-corner tents,” Ma said. “But eventually you see it wears on the tarps (from the wind and rain). We put a lot of hours in this first one.”
The original wasn’t without full effort.
“I have a crane. It’s at the dealership. It’s for sale. I have a boom track, forklift, a bobcat. We used every single piece of equipment to get the first tarp up,” Ma said. “Unfortunately, I designed this on the fly with basketball guys who aren’t engineers. It served its purpose. Even the people at the tent (store) said, ‘Don’t do it. It’s not going to work.’
“We started off with a tent. It’s not do-able because the tarp is not strong enough. It tears and rips when the wind hits. If that happens, we had to take a whole day to fix it,” Ma said. “This (new) one is indestructible and it’s on wheels. We can bring the (roof) to ground level, takes five minutes. And it’s on wheels, so it’s not a permanent structure. We take it down daily in case there’s big wind. When we’re ready to play, we pull the cable and it’s up within five minutes.”
For seven months after the middling results of Dome 1, Ma deliberated. There is a stunning, inevitable future for Dome 2.
“It made me look at the next level. Eventually, once this (pandemic) is over, I’m going to take everything down. The land that we have is zoned A2, which means it’s apartment zoned. (On) the news, the mayor introduced Bill 7, affordable housing act, allows us to build way more. We can go 60 feet high,” Ma said. “It’s really beneficial financially. They waive a lot of permits and taxes within a certain criteria.”
So, the dome will give way to… progress. Development. Fulfilling a need, a demand on an island where housing units are in short supply. It was early October when the Dome boss shared his thoughts.
“Right now, we hold off on that job. We want to enjoy the court until the pandemic is over. I’m hesitant because I don’t know if 24-Hour Fitness can outlast the pandemic. They could close and I can’t use their court. That would be the worst,” he said.
(Note: 24-Hour Fitness has since reopened.)
In an ideal scenario, he would have housing units and the dome.
“I’d like to have both,” he said, “but for the kids, the next generation.”
For now, the games continue at the palace. In early October, he was skeptical about youth sports returning soon.
“Sometime next year, maybe. I don’t see this the last quarter of this year going back to organized sports, especially after the second shutdown,” he said.
The cost, Ma added, was something he was willing to trade.
“It’s OK. We had a head start. We started in March,” he said. “Now it’s been (nine) months of good fun.”
“We have three children, 8 to 10. That’s why my yard is made for the kids. Pool, jacuzzi. They can play soccer when we set up the soccer tents. My whole neighborhood come to my house,” Ma said. “With the pandemic, there’s no place open. You can’t expect the kids to be cooped up in their homes all day long.”
Turning part of the property into a play space for adults was a natural evolution.
“In May of last year, we poured concrete. A couple of my Tongan friends, they’re high-level masonry guys who can make it level and flat. Whirlybird concrete finisher was used to make it smooth,” he said.
Above all, having a place to hoop provided Ma and his friends with relief. Many of them were or still are longtime gym members. When the lockdowns forced gyms to close, there was no outlet for physical activity.
“Sanctuary. It’s like yoga or meditation. For us, all our lives we play ball. It’s definitely more fun when you’re competing. I usually do 1,000 shots (per day). I got the (contraption) that returns the ball. It comes back to me. You’re moving your whole body, your legs, your shoulders. One shot, you don’t feel it, but 1,000, you feel it,” he said. “Good cardio and the flooring helps. The key for me is having that good flooring. Without good flooring, old guys, even young guys, they play on concrete a lot, they get old, they can’t last long.”
Friends come over, but they stick with 2-on-2.
“The restriction is still five people,” Ma noted at the time.
There is peace and quiet where the Ma ohana lives, but he is active.
“We have three houses within our property, three units. A duplex with three units,” he said.
Besides the court, he is an avid weight lifter, and has friends over for workouts. The project, though, is possibly the only one of its kid in the islands.
“We call it a dome. We’ve been coming up with different names. Lights, (two) cameras and TV set up for instant replay,” Ma said.
Because of his family, Ma is strict about the circle of friends who play in the dome.
“We dropped a lot of guys that want to come because they’re playing outdoors. There’s a limited risk, meeting different guys at parks to play. We dropped them,” he said. “That’s what the dangerous thing is. They don’t just play in one place, they go to three or four places. That’s what we used to do when we were young. Get in a car, go to Kaneohe, go back to town, come to Pearl City. Run out of games, go to the next place. Go to Burger King, get a whopper. This is what kids do. So that’s what can really spread it.”
So, the circle of hoopsters at Ma’s dome made a pact.
“We just made a commitment to not play outdoor (at parks) at all. It keeps us safe. That’s why we call ourselves the bubble. Keep it to ourselves. It’s fun playing without going somewhere to play 20 guys. It’s fun and exercise,” he said.
That sense of unity is what got the project moving. It began with the surface. While the gym has a wooden floor, playing at parks on asphalt isn’t Ma’s cup of tea.
“I’m old, so I don’t want to play on concrete. We have a custom rubber flooring that’s 7/8ths of an inch thick,” he said. “The flooring, I got a special custom order that’s extra thick just for the knees. Normally, the thickest is maybe three-quarters (of an inch) if you can find those.”
“We pretty much built it from the ground up. It’s very customized within an inch of everything. Everything was pieced really well. Aluminum frame. (It is) impossible to find a tent has no support on the inside. Everything came in two truckloads, probably would fit in a 40-foot container.”
The manpower element was priceless.
“It took three days, a bunch of guys to put it together. We were shocked, too. Lot of guys were saying, ‘Why are we doing this, the tarp was fine,’ but it’s going to be rainy season soon. We all took ownership of this project. We put sweat into it. I don’t know how to say, but people feel like it belongs to them. We had so much fun. We barbecue, had a TV on to watch the Lakers game,” Ma said. “This tent creates an echo and it contains any noise so well.”
This is not the kind of thing that comes in a DIY package.
“I don’t think it’s replicable, real hard to do. No. 1, got to have lot of space. No. 2, it’s real expensive,” he said.
Prior to the pandemic, backyard pickup games under the sun were the norm. That’s when the original “dome” was built.
“We were playing on Saturdays, 10 a.m. and play until 3 p.m. Everybody gets sunburned. We loved it so much, nobody cared. Everybody brings their meat, drinks, we grill, barbecue. Eventually, we were, ‘We gotta do something. This is too hot.’
“I tried to go the cheap route, duct tape posts, stabilize, 3-inch pipes. I put those in to stabilize the four corners from the ghetto-style EZ-corner tents,” Ma said. “But eventually you see it wears on the tarps (from the wind and rain). We put a lot of hours in this first one.”
The original wasn’t without full effort.
“I have a crane. It’s at the dealership. It’s for sale. I have a boom track, forklift, a bobcat. We used every single piece of equipment to get the first tarp up,” Ma said. “Unfortunately, I designed this on the fly with basketball guys who aren’t engineers. It served its purpose. Even the people at the tent (store) said, ‘Don’t do it. It’s not going to work.’
“We started off with a tent. It’s not do-able because the tarp is not strong enough. It tears and rips when the wind hits. If that happens, we had to take a whole day to fix it,” Ma said. “This (new) one is indestructible and it’s on wheels. We can bring the (roof) to ground level, takes five minutes. And it’s on wheels, so it’s not a permanent structure. We take it down daily in case there’s big wind. When we’re ready to play, we pull the cable and it’s up within five minutes.”
For seven months after the middling results of Dome 1, Ma deliberated. There is a stunning, inevitable future for Dome 2.
“It made me look at the next level. Eventually, once this (pandemic) is over, I’m going to take everything down. The land that we have is zoned A2, which means it’s apartment zoned. (On) the news, the mayor introduced Bill 7, affordable housing act, allows us to build way more. We can go 60 feet high,” Ma said. “It’s really beneficial financially. They waive a lot of permits and taxes within a certain criteria.”
So, the dome will give way to… progress. Development. Fulfilling a need, a demand on an island where housing units are in short supply. It was early October when the Dome boss shared his thoughts.
“Right now, we hold off on that job. We want to enjoy the court until the pandemic is over. I’m hesitant because I don’t know if 24-Hour Fitness can outlast the pandemic. They could close and I can’t use their court. That would be the worst,” he said.
(Note: 24-Hour Fitness has since reopened.)
In an ideal scenario, he would have housing units and the dome.
“I’d like to have both,” he said, “but for the kids, the next generation.”
For now, the games continue at the palace. In early October, he was skeptical about youth sports returning soon.
“Sometime next year, maybe. I don’t see this the last quarter of this year going back to organized sports, especially after the second shutdown,” he said.
The cost, Ma added, was something he was willing to trade.
“It’s OK. We had a head start. We started in March,” he said. “Now it’s been (nine) months of good fun.”
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