Air Frivolous

It’s all his fault, him and his “old skool kicksology“. Although I guess I could work a little harder on the willpower front…

Let’s rewind a little.

I enjoy playing basketball, but don’t get much chance these days. Many moons ago I used to play every Sunday night, and my idol, like every basketball fan of that era, was Michael Jordan. These were the days when rampant commercialism was just beginning, in fact I’m not even sure we realised, back then, where it would lead, so it took me all of a nano-second to decide to buy my first pair of basketball boots and, naturally, they’d have to be Air Jordan (V).

I can remember trying them on in the shop and the first time I wore them on a court, the squeak and slap of the sole on the varnished wood still etched in my memory. You see, of all the sports I’ve ever played, basketball was not only my favourite but something at which I was, well, let’s say above average. Ohh balls to that, I was pretty good! I’m still not sure why, possibly something picked up from my Dad — memories of being allowed to play in the school gym where he taught, and entire basketball court and more to myself — or maybe it just suited my brain better. Whatever the reason I know that, in my year, there were two good basketball players and I was one of them.

Those basketball boots lasted me for several years before, having worn them almost constantly, they kinda fell apart. Ohh yes, it was a sad day when they were finally laid to rest. A touching ceremony, although Mr. Jordan declined the invitation to attend.

Zip forward several years and, in Stoke Mandeville, I found a group of guys who met up on a Sunday night to play basketball. I hadn’t played for years but leapt (no pun intended) at the chance to get back on the court. Admittedly these guys were all MUCH better than me, including the guy who could dunk, but I held my own and enjoyed every minute. I invested in a new pair of basketball boots and, unable to shake my youth, I plumped for the latest Air Jordans again (the XIII). I still have them, as I don’t really wear them often, and it’s those very same boots that I was wearing when I broke my foot.

That was three years ago, and the boots are still at the bottom of my wardrobe. With no basketball in my near future, Lord knows I’ve no reason to buy another pair, not even if they were the same as my beloved original Air Jordan V.

But I did.

Hey, they were cheap, doubly so as I paid for them a couple of weeks back when the dollar to sterling rate rendered things virtually ‘half-price’, and they arrived on Monday. Yes, I have NO willpower. Unfortunately you can’t buy that on a whim (which, surely, is kinda odd?).

Frivolous? Hell yes. But you should see the smile on my face!

Related: Air Jordan History

Written By

Long time blogger, Father of Jack, geek of many things, random photographer and writer of nonsense.

Doing my best to find a balance.

More From Author

A clock showing the split of time between events

The in-between

A generated image of many app icons in a colourful display

Not yet sherlocked

Painting of the american flag on concrete, a large crack splits the flag in two

Fuck Trump

You May Also Like

A clock showing the split of time between events

The in-between

A generated image of many app icons in a colourful display

Not yet sherlocked

Painting of the american flag on concrete, a large crack splits the flag in two

Fuck Trump