We always hear that basketball is an urban game. Not much space needed. Perfect for getting a lot of exercise for a batch of guys in a short period of time. A great outlet for a big, crowded metropolis.

New York? Sure.

But why not Hong Kong?

This ought to be a playground hoops hotbed. It’s crowded. It’s densely populated. It has little room for a sports venue bigger than a basketball court. It could be NYC East.

And maybe, just maybe, out there on Hong Kong’s steamy playgrounds, is the Chinese answer to Connie Hawkins or Stephon Marbury or Smush Parker — or any of those other guys who honed their skills on the blacktop at Rucker Park in New York.

That high-flying, shake-and-baking Hongkonger may exist.

I haven’t seen him yet. But I’m still looking.

Every night when I leave work, I walk a mile or so down Java Road, right next to the water on Hong Kong Island. Headed for the subway.

I go past two basketball courts. Little islands of activity and athleticism in a city where space is so tight that most exercise seems to come from people dodging each other on the subways.

Every night, I stop for a while and watch. Just in case somebody seriously good is out there.

So far, nothing doing.

There is some love for the game. I walk by at 10, 10:30 at night, and there are always guys playing. Usually 3-on-3. Once in a while, 5-on-5, full-court. And guys always are waiting for the next game.

They have a clue. An idea. They’ve seen the NBA, which is fairly popular here.

They spread the court fairly well. Most of them are decent shooters. A few have quickness. Some work together well.

I have yet to see  anyone playing above the rim. Or even close to it. I haven’t seen a dunk. Or an attempt at a dunk. I don’t see many moves to the hole. A lot of pull-up shooters, though. Which is fairly typical of the international game, I suppose.

But I’ve only been here three weeks, and I have yet to see what reputedly is the top place for playground hoops in Hong Kong, Southorn Park, in the Wan Chai neighborhood, which just happens to be where I’m living.

I may go over and check it out in the next night or two. See if any serious ballers are hanging out over there.

Somebody on this island has to be a real player. Maybe not an NBA-caliber player, but someone who could hang with a college team. Just too many people, and too many guys out there getting serious about hoops. Somebody can play.

I want to see him. I want to be there when he sails down the lane and throws it down over a bunch of little guys with their mouths hanging open. Maybe he’s over at Southorn Playground.

Or maybe the guys over on Java Road will show me something, a few minutes from now, when I head out into the night and watch their game for a bit on another steamy HK night.