Concerned Citizens Against Picklebal
When the paddles arrive, the people disappear
Our mission is to resist the seemingly harmless forces that reshape living communities into curated shells. Pickleball is our symbol—it arrives when the culture is gone and the rent has doubled.
✦ C.C.A.P
About Us
C.C.A.P. may stand for Pickleball. But this isn’t about a game—it’s about the ground it’s played on.
We are a grassroots organization devoted to protecting our neighborhoods from the slow erasure of everything that makes them real. Our mission is to resist the seemingly harmless forces that reshape living communities into curated shells. Pickleball is our symbol—it arrives when the culture is gone and the rent has doubled.
We don’t oppose paddles. We oppose replacement. We don’t hate recreation—we mourn the kind of progress that forgets what came before it. When a basketball court becomes a pickleball court, it’s more than a game—it’s a message.
C.C.A.P. fights for memory. For the noise, the sweat, the texture, the hustle. For people who made neighborhoods before they became brands.
C.C.A.P. is a grassroots coalition dedicated to preserving the soul of our neighborhoods against the quiet colonization of pickleball. We stand against the conversion of outdoor basketball courts—once vibrant hubs of community, culture, and competition—into sanitized playgrounds for leisure-class trend cycles.
✦ Silence the Paddles. Raise the Voices.
Join The Resistance
What looks like recreation is often the first sign of removal. As pickleball replaces basketball courts and rent climbs beyond reach, we lose more than just places to play—we lose culture, connection, and community. Stand with us as we challenge the quiet erasure of our neighborhoods.
The Problem
The Problem
We get it—pickleball is fun. That’s the whole point. It’s friendly. It’s accessible. It’s polite. But that’s also the danger.
In a time when neighborhoods are being flattened into lifestyle brands and identities replaced by aesthetics, fun becomes a weapon if it doesn’t come with friction.
Pickleball is low-impact, low-stakes, low-volume. You don’t grow up in it—you age into it. You don’t earn respect—you RSVP to it.
Fun Isn’t the Problem. Softness Is.
Fun Isn’t the Problem. Softness Is.
We get it—pickleball is fun. That’s the whole point. It’s friendly. It’s accessible. It’s polite. But that’s also the danger.
In a time when neighborhoods are being flattened into lifestyle brands and identities replaced by aesthetics, fun becomes a weapon if it doesn’t come with friction.
Pickleball is low-impact, low-stakes, low-volume. You don’t grow up in it—you age into it. You don’t earn respect—you RSVP to it.
The Real Problem
The Real Problem
We used to raise kids on toughness, not trendiness.
The blacktop taught more than a crossover. It taught how to hold your ground, how to talk back, how to be part of something larger than yourself. Basketball taught roles, rhythm, rivalry. Baseball taught patience and presence. Handball? That was just grit with no gloves.
Pickleball teaches… paddle control. Soft serves and casual wins. It doesn’t raise a generation—it quiets it.
We’re not saying the game is bad. We’re saying a neighborhood that only offers it isn’t raising kids—it’s raising tenants.
Pickleball Is a Symptom. Gentrification Is the Disease.
🧱 Wall of Resistance
Read how neighbors, organizers, and community legends are pushing back against quiet displacement. These aren’t just stories. They’re warnings. They’re blueprints. They’re love letters to what we’re trying to save.
We saw what they were building, and we pushed back. Now the court’s still standing—and so are we.
Nick Sanchez
@partner
They offered silence and smoothies. We chose sneakers and stories. This isn’t nostalgia. This is resistance.
Albert Flores
@freelancer
My barbershop used to sit right next to the courts. Game days meant full chairs and full hearts. Now, it's pickleball and parking meters. But through C.C.A.P., we’ve been able to connect small businesses, fight zoning changes, and keep the culture rooted. This ain’t just play—it’s survival
Savannah N.
@designer
This isn’t just about courts. It’s about dignity. C.C.A.P. gives us tools, language, and a reason to keep fighting.
Floyd Miles
@designer
I played my first game at age nine and coached my first team at sixteen. That court? That was my legacy. When the paddles showed up, no one called me. But I heard the silence. C.C.A.P. gave me a platform to speak, to resist, to remind the city that we were here first—and we’re not going anywhere.
Darrell S.
@smallbusiness
Back then, every court had a king. Now? They want tenants, not legends. That’s why we show up.
Ronalald R.
@developer
I write code now—but I learned how to build teams on the blacktop. That court gave me everything. C.C.A.P. gave it a second life
Guy Hawkins
@techguru
We used to call it the ‘heartbeat of the block.’ Now it's got silent paddles and Yelp reviews. This isn’t hate—it’s heartbreak. But C.C.A.P. gave us language, resources, and community. We’re not just stopping the paddles. We’re protecting a way of life.
Robert Fox
@company
You can call it redevelopment. We call it erasure. C.C.A.P. reminds them: we’re not just history—we’re still here.
Jane Cooper
@ceo
✦ Soft Games, Hard Consequences.
Join the Movement
C.C.A.P. is a metaphor—but your block isn’t. Sign up to defend spaces that matter.
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