Dunking was the dream when I was a teenager. I wasn’t any different. Back then, basketball felt carved into me; now that kind of obsession has thinned out like smoke.
Li-Ning Sonic 3, mismatched colorway
If I’m being strict about it, this was my first real pair of basketball shoes: the Li-Ning Sonic 3 in a mismatched colorway.
Because they were the first, I could forgive almost everything. And there was a lot to forgive. There was no impressive tech to speak of, no standout bounce, a sole that felt stiff as a board, and breathability was basically nonexistent. Li-Ning had also added a shank plate to keep the sole from snapping, and I still managed to wear it apart. The price, though—499 yuan—hurt enough that after this pair I stopped buying domestic basketball shoes altogether.
A Nike outdoor training shoe
Not long after being disappointed by the Sonic 3, I picked up this Nike basketball shoe. I can’t remember the model name anymore, but in terms of comfort it was second only to the KD5 EP II.
Compared with the Sonic 3, this pair had Nike Zoom, great forefoot responsiveness, a better fit, and a lighter feel on foot. In actual play it also gave me a strong first step. The only real drawback was the usual one with low-tops.
This was also the pair I abused the hardest. It was the first time I felt what a basketball shoe was actually supposed to feel like. It didn’t need to be expensive or flashy. It just had to give me what I wanted.
Nike KD5 EP II
The Nike KD5 EP II was a pair I genuinely loved.
It gave me everything I was looking for: lockdown, bounce, lightness, and a colorway I admired just as much as the performance.
I had some of my best moments in these. I won a high school basketball tournament championship wearing them, and my best recorded jump touched 330 cm. Back then I only brought them out for real games, tournaments, or days when I knew I was in top form.
I’ve tried playing in them again in recent years. Maybe I’m the one who’s tired now, or maybe the shoes have simply aged. Either way, neither of us has quite what we used to.
Nike LeBron 11 “South Beach”
The pair I dreamed about most was the LeBron 11 “South Beach.”
My jersey number was 1, borrowed from Tracy McGrady—the man behind those unforgettable 13 points in 35 seconds. But that never got in the way of how much I liked LeBron James, a player who pushed power and violence in motion to their aesthetic extreme.
The South Beach color scheme, the almost mech-like upper, the full-length Zoom—everything about that shoe hit exactly where it needed to. But the 1,599 yuan price tag stood there like a wall. I even used to joke that maybe someone would give me a pair for my birthday in a dream.
Later, I bought them myself with the first money I earned from working. I didn’t hesitate for a second. Once I had them, there was nothing left to regret.
The dream behind the shoes
After talking this much about basketball shoes, it almost feels like I lost sight of the first thing I said: dunking was every boy’s dream, and it was mine too.
Now things look different. A grade-two meniscus injury, a bulging lumbar disc, and the endless weight of ordinary life seem determined to grind that dream down.
I used to sneak in training sessions at home during summer vacation
I used to work hard on basketball skills
I could spend six or seven hours on it without feeling tired
I even joined the track team and trained relentlessly for it
Ever since that summer when LeBron brought Cleveland the glory that belonged to him
Ever since the college entrance exam ended, all those things from back then
seem to have vanished in the blink of an eye, like smoke