Air Jordan wings, basketball and number 23 on upper arm

Realism · Upper arm · Black and grey · Photo

The tattoo shows the Air Jordan winged basketball logo with the words AIR JORDAN across the top, followed by the word JORDAN, a dark jumpman silhouette and a large outlined number 23 at the base. The linework is bold and the background uses soft grey smoke-like shading behind the lettering and figure. The piece is entirely black and grey and fills the upper arm in a close, angled view against a dark top and a room interior.

Realism Upper arm Wing Logo Lettering

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The snow had sealed the Crossing Inn by the third day, and the only thing in the taproom anybody cared about was the ball. Father had found it in the coach boot with a shirt rolled round it, the number 23 stitched across the back in cracked red. Nobody claimed either. We hung the shirt over the settle to dry, and the ball sat on the flagstones like a sleeping animal.

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Ned Harker, the carrier who had brought the coach up from Hexham, swore he'd seen the owner pass it off a bench in Carlisle before a fight broke out. He was lying, I think, but it was a good lie. He bounced it off the cellar door until the hinges rang, and Mother threatened him with the poker. By the fourth evening the whole house was playing: the cook in her apron, two drovers from Dumfries, the vicar's widow who had never touched anything heavier than a teacup.

The ball was never quite round after that. Sooty handprints, a scuff where the wings had been picked at, a flattened patch where somebody had stood on it. Mother said it was a wonder it held air at all. On the fifth morning, when the drifts had sunk below the sills and the sky was a hard, sharp blue, I took it out to the yard and threw it at the stable door. It went wide, struck the trough, and rolled under the gate.

The coach came back for its passengers at noon. A man in a good wool coat climbed aboard, glanced at the shirt still steaming on the settle, and asked nobody in particular whether it had been claimed. Nobody answered. I folded it round the ball, tied the string twice, and handed the parcel up. He didn't wave. I watched the wheels turn the fresh snow black, and I kept the number on my wall anyway.