0003-Can I describe the first pair of shoes I bought for myself?

Ooooooo you damn right I can. I remember it like it was yesterday and they found a profound end as well. For my first pair of shoes I bought for myself, I became the proud owner of an original pair of 1990 Air Jordan 5 Fire Red with 23 stitched into the heal. Coming from IL there was only one player. From North Carolina, at Guard, 6'6....MICHAELLLLLLL JORDANNNNNNNNNN.

BTW if this video doesn't give you chills...you missed out. There simply wasn't anyone else anyone wanted to be on the basketball court...and everyone that Loved the Bulls in the 90's...hated the Knicks (looking at you John Starks).

I used to think Patrick Ewing could inhale all the air in Madison Square Garden at the free throw line with his huge nostrils everytime he shot a free throw.

Continuing on the list the 90's "Bad Boys" of Detroit (I had a personal hatred for Bill Laimbeer and Isiah Thomas) and the Indiana Pacers (annoying Bitchass Reggie Miller and Mullet Wearing Rik Smits).

Getting back to the shoes, it was the first year they had the transparent bottom you could see the Air Jordan Logo through as well. Just an amazingly awesome shoe in my opinion that came with one huge problem. They retailed for $125 and you couldn't find them anywhere. Well after some calling around, Kevin Hennegan's Parents drove us to Kenosha, WI to an outlet mall to get them because that was the only place around that had them that wasn't sold out. My Mom told me even before agreeing to let me go with Kevin..."I'm not paying for a $125 pair of shoes. That is crazy. We'll head to Payless or Sportsmart so don't even ask."

Being 10 years old, I sure as shit didn't have $125. Kevin's parents were already buying them for him, hence our trip to exotic Kenosha, WI. Ya see, Kevin had made the 5th grade basketball team the previous year and he was a bigger, beefier, Irish 5th grader that I swear was already growing stubble and a neck beard.

I, on the other hand, didn't make the 5th grade team...hence no need for $125 as my Mom had clearly dictated to me. I had no basketball skills at all. I couldn't dribble. I couldn't shoot. Layups were 50/50 and I was blocked more times than I'd like to recall. Kevin however knew that the 6th grade tryouts would just be a formality since he was one of the starting centers.

So where I took a wrong turn was when the sales clerk asked me, "And what size do you want to try on?" It kinda felt like Ralphie sitting on the Mall Santa's lap where he couldn't recall what he wanted for Christmas..."Shit...what size is my foot." So I blurted out 9...I didn't know.

When the box arrived from the back, the oldest sales tactic in the world came with it. "You're in luck, this is the last size 9 in the store". An immediate decision to go all in for my chips was dealt to me on the first hand. Well played sir. Johnny the sales guy has done this before. I remember the box....black top with a red Air Jordan Logo, the smell as I opened it up, (now thinking back probably the scent of Philippines sweatshop and glue for adhering the rubber to the shoe) I continued removing the white tissue paper, unwrapping each shoe to finally receive my reward. Being presented with the greatest basketball shoe ever made, worn by the greatest player to ever play. Now I've never met Cinderella, but I can imagine as my foot slid into these shoes for the first time...that feeling was pretty fucking close.

This is where trying on a pair of Jordan's for the first time changes you as a person, just to see what they were like. Just to feel what it's like to be Mike. And let me tell you, it was nothing short of Thanos putting on The Infinity Gauntlet and feeling so inevitable.

I immeditetly called my Mom from the store, shoes still on, from a land line, in front of the store manager, begging...nay...pleading with her that I'll give her all the money I had saved if she'd let me get them. I had saved enough for exactly half...adding slowly from $5 lawn jobs and various birthday and holiday money from family to "buy myself something nice." Hell, $70 back then felt like $1 million to a 12 year old in 1990.

I immediately knew that I'd play better, jump higher, run faster and most importantly in a Catholic school with everything being the same with wearing uniforms, the coolest kids had the coolest shoes. My moment was here, I wanted that, I needed that...I needed to put my flag in the ground and belong...be accepted as cool...finally. (How petty looking back now).

No more Payless off brand Roos with the side zipper pouch, or plain colored Reeboks...or hand me down boat shoes from my cousins that have already spent a year in them wearing them out...no sir...these are Fucking Jordans and you better recognize...and the only one that stood between me and that feeling putting those on everyday was my Mom. Well, luckily I was a great kid growing up for the most part and she knew it and agreed to pay half. The day would be mine. That day "Seick Jordan" was born. I wanna be...I wanna be like Seickkkkkkkkk.

So knowing that the St. Theresa Trojans 6th grade basketball team all wanted team shoes...and EVERYONE...and I mean EVERYONE wanted to be like Mike in the 90's. We all knew that the Air Jordans would be the team shoe of choice. I already got mine but let me put this into perspective for you. Tryouts came and tryouts went. I did however make the basketball team this year, unlike the previous year not making the team but got to stay on as the "TEAM MANAGER" YAYYYYYYYY. Let me tell you, there is no greater, respected job than being in middle school, and being on a team, but not really being on the team...and the rest of the team has so much support in 6th grade for that postion and a constant reminder daily of how good you have it NOT having a uniform. You want thick skin...try that position on for a season. No sir, not this year....I made the team, got a uniform, had the shoes and rode the pine as the 4th string center. I was that good. I was tall, but had no aggressiveness nor had a competitive bone in my body. I was 5'11" and 85 pounds so no weight to throw around or even attempt to box out for a rebound. Even the coach told my parents, "He needs to get mean. He's too nice of a kid to play center." But I'll be damned if in warm ups and practice those Jordan's didn't make me look damn good doing whatever I was doing. I was put in with 30 seconds to go, being up 32 points over our opponents (as the coach was "clearing the benches" to tell you his confidence in my playing ability not getting in earlier in this rout).

I scored 2 points the ENTIRE 6th grade season and that came in the form of a sky hook in the paint that felt so natural Karem Abdul Jabbar would've shed a tear from that performance. Each point I scored that year cost $62.50 and I am convinced, it is STILL the best money I had ever spent on anything to this day.

5 years later, going through my closet I came across them, the previous clear bottoms had become oxidized yellow and green toed from the numerous lawn cutting I had done over those 5 years. I later sold them for $100 to a guy I worked with at Da Jewels in the Produce Section because he "Collected Original Jordans and restored them".....I wonder how rich that guy is now? Either way...I feel I got my money's worth out of those shoes...and even made money back by selling them. You can't go wrong when you're representing the GOAT.