This story first appeared in SLAM 250.
I wonder if my love for collecting comes from the satisfaction gained from knowing that everything is in order and accounted for. That the numbers line up and everything slots into place. The fact that every SLAM issue ever released has a number, and this number represents a date on the basketball timeline appeals to me. I’m a weirdo. Don’t judge me.
In terms of issue numbers, our last milestone was when we hit you with the Iverson/Jordan double whammy on Issue 200, August 2016. In the eight years that have passed since, things have changed—not necessarily in drastic ways, but there are changes nonetheless. By contrast, when we hit our first major landmark, Issue 50, back in 2001, the changes that had happened since our conception in 1994 were wild.
The internet had immensely changed the way we consumed basketball information. Salaries had evolved from weighty to astronomical. Streetball had infested our DVD collections and the baggy fashion era was about to get real. Very real. One thing remained, though. Michael Jordan was our basketball god.
It was fitting, then, that one of the most iconic MJ moments should inhabit the front page of our 50th drop. It was the infamous free-throw line jam, the Windy City version—the White Cements…Only we did it different. I’m not only talking about the three alternate covers, I’m talking about the never-seen-before camera angles. Our short but significant stint in the game meant editors Russ Bengtson and Tony G had built a solid relationship with legendary NBA photographer Nat Butler. Nat has taken (and continues to take) some of the most iconic pictures in basketball history. To put it plainly, you likely rock his pics on tees, post them on your feed and choose them as your background. The (possibly) unlikely friendship that our forefathers made with Nat meant that he granted access to—and permission to use—previously unseen shots of one of the most significant moments in Mike’s career. The result was a fitting cover series for our 50th issue.
The “familiar but different” element of the SLAM 50 covers epitomizes those early SLAM years. Giving you something you thought you knew, but making you look twice. Reminding us that everything changes, while somehow staying the same. All executed chaotically but perfectly. Everything slotting into place. Numbered in the basketball timeline.
