In a small gym built in 1967, where every banner tells a story and every echo carries the memories of old rivalries, Eddie and Frank Russ’s hearts beat with basketball. To them, the game isn’t just competition—it’s a legacy, a way of life, and a sacred connection to their past and each other.

We don’t have wars anymore, not like back in the day,” Eddie says with a grin. “Basketball is our war now, and when we’re out there, our ancestors are out there with us.” That spirit has driven both brothers to transform the game into a bridge between tradition and modernity, where every shot and steal speaks to the strength of their family and community.

Brothers of the Court

Eddie and Frank Russ on Life, Legacy, and the Game

A Court Built of Memories

Growing up in Skidegate, the Russ brothers found their lives shaped as much by the small gym as by their family and culture. Built the same year Eddie was born, the gym has hosted not only games but countless Haida gatherings: weddings, funerals, and feasts. “It’s like our own big house,” Frank says, and to him and his brother, the gym is woven into every stage of their lives.

For Eddie, the Skidegate gym is filled with memories of players like Pete Martin, who coached the young Haida players in their early years, jotting down scores and encouraging them to return, day after day. “That kept us coming back, pushing us to get better,” Eddie says. He’s proud that those memories have become the foundation for the next generation, now walking into the same gym with a renewed sense of purpose and pride.

Brotherhood and Rivalry

Though connected by blood and a shared history, Eddie and Frank’s basketball journey hasn’t been without competition. For the Haida, basketball is an inter-community rivalry as much as it is a unifying force. Skidegate and Masset often field separate teams, and players like Eddie and Frank, with roots in both villages, have had to make difficult choices about whom to represent on the court.

In the 1990s, the brothers joined Masset’s team, navigating dual loyalties and deepening bonds. Eventually, both would return to Skidegate, playing for the Masters Division and claiming back-to-back championships. “When we win, it’s not just a win for us; it’s a win for everyone,” says Frank. The pride in his voice reflects not just the joy of victory but the knowledge that they’re carrying forward a legacy built by generations before them.

A Legacy to Carry Forward

For Eddie and Frank, basketball has always been more than just sport—it’s a rite of passage. They grew up looking to the Saints of the 1980s, inspired by that championship team and eager to add their own chapter to the legacy. Today, they watch proudly as their children and grandchildren carry that legacy forward.

Frank’s son Jaylen won three championships as a Junior Saint and, though he has since passed, his memory lives on in Frank’s grandson, whose developing skill reminds Frank of his son’s style on the court. “I see my son’s game in my grandson now,” he says. “My son left a legacy in his own right, and I see him every time my grandson plays.” The responsibility of guiding future generations weighs on both brothers, who see the game as more than a pastime. They know that to keep the Haida spirit alive, they must pass down the determination and pride they learned from their own mentors. Eddie reflects, “We’re the generation that’s backing up our ancestors right now. We’re the ones that get to say, ‘Yeah, we are Haida. We are badasses.’”

Passing Down the Game

Eddie and Frank see their legacy as more than just banners hanging in the gym. With each new season, they impart lessons to their younger teammates, nephews, sons, and now grandsons, who come to the court to not only play but to witness a bond stretching back through generations. “We’re just holding it up,” Eddie says, “keeping it going so the next generation knows where they come from.

For them, the court is more than a place of competition; it’s a gathering point, a place to celebrate, mourn, and commune with friends and family. Frank says, “Basketball is almost like going to a feast. People come to see each other, to feel connected.

The echoes of the gym carry more than just cheers and sneakers on hardwood; they carry the story of two brothers who grew up with basketball in their bones, who’ve dedicated their lives to passing that game on. For Eddie and Frank, every shot, every dribble, is more than just a game—it’s an honour.

By Nang Ḵ’uulas Patrick Shannon