He stands six feet, six inches tall. Even though some heads peak above his, he stands the tallest of them all.

Sweat pours from his face. He pants rapidly. He begins to dribble down the court. He is in complete control over his mind, and soon the minds of the other players on the court. He moves like a panther as he spins and weaves around his clueless opponents. They fear him, for they know there is no way of preventing him from reaching his destination - the rim.

He explodes in front of them, leaving his dimension - the basketball hoop - in his path. He reaches his take-off strips-the foul line-15 feet from the rim. Leaping, he launches into space.

He soars through the sky, the spectators viewing his flight in awe. He nears the hoop, throwing his arms behind his head, the basketball tightly gripped in his massive hands.

He arrives at the basket, his head so high. It seems as if his whole self is above the rim, his hair brushing against the rafters that hang from atop the stadium.

But his flight must end. So, as he passes the hoop, he slams the basketball through the hoop with such power. And, as the spectators cheer with excitement, they feel an acute sense that he performed with such ease.

He is the greatest athlete on earth: the best basketball player alive. He is Michael Jordan. n