This story is published in OLD SLAM ADS. Get your copy here.
My 40-year-old knees are worn out. Worn out like the lawn behind my childhood home, and for the same reason. It’s the reason I bought a rim and backboard set with the cash I saved on my 12th birthday. It’s why I had my dad lower the rim after the first week. It’s why I replaced it with a spring-loaded rim a year later. Before that, it was the reason that my Spalding Micro-Mini hoop snapped within an hour of purchasing. The reason the old lady next door complained. The reason why Shawn Kemp was (and still is) my hero. It’s the reason why, even all these years later, the skin on my palms at the base of my fingers is rough. It’s why my 1994 NBA All-Star Weekend VHS tape went fuzzy.
It’s because all I ever wanted to do was dunk.
The problem was that I did most of my growing early so, by the age of 16, my height was just about scraping 5-10 and my fingers just about scraping the rim. Hope, as usual, would be found within the hallowed pages of SLAM. It wasn’t in a frame-by-frame SLAMADAMONTH spread, either (although those were insanely dope). No. It was the ads that provided a solution to my problem with gravity. The range of Jump Higher programs on offer in our first two decades was wild, and within our magazines were scattered a medley of options. It wasn’t just me who wanted more bounce. We all did.
The ad that initially stood out to me was from the late ’90s. What’s crazy is that the program didn’t even have a name; it was just a lot of writing (we had larger attention spans back then…) and a black and white pic. The text implied that someone was giving away some top secret, Area 51 type of info. This, combined with a mysterious photo that was giving “Loch Ness Monster” style vibes had me completely locked in. The pic featured a young-looking kid jumping freakishly high (a trampoline?! definitely not…) with a defender helplessly waiting to have a basketball smashed into his unathletic face. It was significant that the kid featured was white. I was (and still am) also white and, until YouTube and Mac McClung (shout out to Rex Chapman, too) proved otherwise, our destiny was to replicate Larry Bird’s dunk package, if we were lucky. If this program could get a white kid dunking, then there was hope for us all. Surely.
I never did meet anyone who got their hands on that report—it claimed to be free—but the brand name, “Why Almost Everyone is Wrong About How They Train to Increase Their Vertical” was possibly a little long and not too catchy. Others, though, really stayed in the memory bank and, despite being pricey, saw a lot of success.
Jumpsoles and Strength Shoes were the early big hitters. For a long stretch, it would be common to find both brands battling it out in an issue, fighting for our pockets and their share of a bunny-hungry market. While basically the same product, Strength Shoes provided an entire shoe, along with Bob Knight and Bobby Hurley Sr’s approval. Jumpsoles, on the other hand, were strapped onto your existing shoe. This flexibility, as well as an athlete endorsement from the greatest short dunker (at the time) ever witnessed in Spud Webb, made sense. Although he was winning dunk contests almost 10 years before this product hit the market, we didn’t ask questions.
For a short period, we saw ads from imitation products such as Gainers and Skyflex, who apparently didn’t get off the ground (pun intended, always). Jumpsoles and Strength Shoes would hold their solid grip on the market and remain in our pages for a long time. My skeptical assumption, combined with the fact that I didn’t want to risk spending more money than I ever had in my bank account, was that they probably didn’t work. I’d heard reports of Yeah, right moments where a dude who couldn’t touch the rim wore them for five minutes and went on to throw down a windmill, all in an effort to sell units to kids at a camp. Others reported that the shoes would blow out your knees or that just working the calves would never be enough. Still, there have been countless others who claim them to be totally legit, and the fact that both of these brands exist today is perhaps proof of this.
Other equipment-based products available included ankle weights, vests, even a board with bungee straps that promoted itself with the tagline, “INCREASE YOUR VERTICAL BY ACTUALLY JUMPING!” Still, other programs boasted “No special shoes or weights necessary” and products like the Air Alert series began to push plyometrics over physical products. The fact that these brands required no actual equipment (other than books or DVDs) to be shipped, combined with the rise of the internet, meant that this section of the market was even more competitive. Names such as AIRBORNE!, JUMP ON, Mad Bounce and Vertical Leap Beyond Belief would fight for the attention of SLAM readers, all following a similar format. Some would refer to their information being “top secret…until now!” Quotes would be included from happy customers whose lives had been drastically altered by jumping higher. An ad by Leapfrog attempted to hook us in by sending customers a “dunk montage of 75 slams including a 6-1 LEAPFROGGIN’ jam over a 6-3 person.” I would’ve loved to have seen that whole thing. Oh, and they all, of course, guaranteed a specific gain of inches, a claim that was awkwardly comparable to a completely different industry that was spamming our in-boxes at the time. Fulfilling the desire to perform and/or impress is big business.
In the end, I never did invest in a “jump higher” type of program (three-pointers are cooler these days anyway, right?) but I remain fascinated by how synonymous they are with SLAM and, in turn, basketball culture. If I could go back to when I was a teen, I don’t think I’d opt for Strength Shoes or Jump Soles, not even Air Alert (which is still going btw!) for that matter. Too much effort. Instead, I’d give the Vertical Growth supplement pills a go. What could go wrong? If not then the Vertical Blast 2000 would have done the job. They worked for Todd from Phoenix, AZ, (pictured with a female companion no less) so why not Sammy from Erdington? If I wasn’t too late (this particular ad states that it’s only available to the first 125 “athletes” who respond) then a bottle of Adenotrex looked like a safe bet.
If all else failed, then there’s one product that couldn’t. Genuinely. The Slam Station springboard—”a stable but portable ‘mad ups’ producing dunking machine that gets you where you want to be…ABOVE THE RIM.” Incredible.
I barely ever dunked on a regulation rim ( a couple of times, maybe), but my dunking fantasy remains. And sometimes, after bending down to rub my aching 40-year-old knees, I still think to myself, “Why didn’t I send for that top-secret jumping info in SLAM…”
