There are many kinds of jump shots. Some guys have a one-jumper image.

Tim Hardaway had the world's only combination knuckle ball jump shot. His ball would move three to four inches either way before it hit the back of the rim and somehow stayed down. With no spin on it, the ball took forever to get to the basket. Entire defense teams would sway back and forth, so mesmerized, that everyone forgot to box out.

Antonio Davis has the robo-jumper. He squares to the basket and pushes it up the same way every time. Unlike Hardaway's opponents, Davis almost never forgets to box out. I think it's a positive by-product of his marriage.

Manute Bol came from Africa and may be the most unique physical specimen ever to play in the NBA. He was seven-foot-six and weighed about the same as your little nephew. One game, for reasons only known to himself, Bol decided to try a three pointer. His feet were just behind the arc, but his arms seemed to go all the way back to half-court. He chucked it so high the ball disappeared through the rafters for a moment. When it started coming down, somebody screamed "Incoming!" Charles Barkley, a teammate of Bol's at the time, missed the next quarter with "stomach soreness."

The Mugsy Bogue's clean look, totally open jumper: He did everything right. He bent his knees, spread his hand, squared up, kissed his lucky chain ... he did it all. I don't remember if he hit most of them, but I sure remember how exhausted he looked after he put 'em up.

That kid who plays for Gonzaga, Adam Morrison, might make some memories. He's got his own pace to his jumpers. You get the feeling he's thinking something like ... "Dude, behold my jumper!" He's tall, he's not athletic and he's white. But don't compare him to Larry Bird. He's not that kind of competitor.

Rolando Blackman, the former all-star with the Dallas Mavericks, has a two-jumper image. The first one was one of the sweetest strokes in the game. He bent deep, leapt high and released right at the top. He hit it often enough to be among the game's best. Sadly, father time claimed his legs and he finished his NBA days heaving it up for the New York Knicks from well below the basket. In the end, his shot was tentative and disjointed. It was painful to see him that way, but for that kind of money, I'd lay a lot more bricks than he did.

Bill Cartwright, the center on the first Chicago Bulls championship team, had the anti-Jordan jumper. Everyone knows how fluid Michael Jordan was and how he seemed to levitate. Cartwright barely left the ground at all. He just stuck out his elbows far enough to get some space and flung the ball sideways. His main contribution to the Bulls was voice operating their defense. His was the raspy voice yelling at Jordan, Scottie Pippen and Horace Grant to switch and double. I still think his jumper was reason Jordan kept sticking his tongue out though.

Jordan himself had a three-jumper image:

You remember him nailing that 18 footer to win the NCAA's. That was cold.

You remember him leaping in the air when he immortalized Craig Ehlo in Cleveland. That was astonishing.

And you remember him shoving the Utah Jazz's Byron Russell out of the way to win his last ring. Some things just don't end the way you want them to end.

Jordan could easily have a fourth image, but I didn't watch those Washington Wizard's games.