I wonder what it was like for Brandan Wright the first time he dunked a ball. Probably in the middle of a growth spurt, he tried and tried, coming so close but unable to get that little extra. Then, one day, it happened. A rim grazer, it could be called, but a dunk nonetheless. Imagine the elation. Imagine the power.
Now it’s over a decade later. He dunks with regularity. They are sometimes powerful, sometimes artistic. Put backs, tomahawks, alley-oops, posters, windmills. He does them all. But try as he might, he can never recapture that beautiful moment. A moment in time, clear as a new morning’s dawn, where he flew higher than ever before. The magic is gone. The magic is gone forever.