It's been thirty-five years, four months and seventeen days since I was first worn by a tall human who people call “Michael.” I was originally just a sketch on a piece of paper drawn by an artist named Peter Moore but later turned into the most popular shoe for the past thirty-four years. 

October 18, 1984, was the day this “Michael” first wore me in a game. People were mean to me, calling me “the ugliest shoes in the history of basketball,” but I knew that I had to ignore it. In the locker room of the Chicago Bulls (basketball), we got ready to play, seeing tall men talking and fighting scared me thinking that people would get mad at me, and step on me.  (Sight/Touch) Then, Michael put me on his giant feet, and we walked out onto the court together. I remember looking up and seeing tons of people in the stands and it was like being back in the factory where I was made, seeing rows and rows of shoes. (Sight) After a pale human with black and white stripes threw an orange ball in the air, Michael and another human jumped up and tried to hit the ball, but we missed and the other team got the orange sphere first. The other team approached us like a lion charging at its prey --  passing and throwing the ball to each other. Finally, we got the ball, and we ran down the court like a baby cheetah running toward its wounded mother. The smell of buttery popcorn stained into my leather. (smell) Michael jumped so high that it felt like we were flying, (touch) and he threw the ball into the ring. I remember how good it felt, humans stood on their feet, cheering so loud my shoelaces were trembling. Victory.  

I remember it very clearly, April 20, 1986; Michael and I were getting ready in the locker room for the NBA Finals game against the Boston Celtics. Once again, the pale man with black and white stripes threw the ball into the air, and this time we caught it!! We raced down the polished court zooming past the spectators. As Michael jumped, my laces followed him into the air and his long, chiseled legs separated me from my counterpart. He slammed the ball into the hoop. The cheers grew like a freight train, and I never wanted it to end. (sound)

Although we didn’t win that game, Michael scored sixty-four points. People loved him-- and me. From that day forward, I knew I wouldn’t be sitting on clearance racks at Foot Locker. 

I was the Air Jordan 1.