What’s in a Number?

Remember when it was daring for a pro sports figure to wear the No. 1? That is, unless you were a wizard like baseball's Ozzie Smith, or a barefoot kicker in the NFL. What Penny Hardaway brought back in the early-'90s is now commonplace thanks to lesser phenoms such as the Rockets' Tracy McGrady, the Braves' Rafael Furcal, the Hornets' Baron Davis, and the Lakers' Caron Butler.

The Pacers' Stephen Jackson shamed the number on November 19th, and furthered it by "needing" to practice against the banished Ron Artest, saying he needed to bang with a real "all-star." I bet that went well with the rest of the squad. Only the Pistons' Chauncey Billups, the 2004 Finals MVP, wears the number one deservingly today.

What is it about numbers on athlete's jersey that make them what they are? Pride, superstition, family, identity are only a few reasons why athletes wear the numbers they wear on gameday.

In this day and age of marketing, youngsters and adults both are hooked on wearing the jerseys of their favorite stars from the past and present. It is great that today's youth are exposed to sports legends via the throwback jersey. Sure, some have an identity crisis and look to sport the jersey nobody at the local school has worn before, or because Snoop Dogg was caught with a Terry Bradshaw No. 12, or simply because it's "sick." Unfortunately, youth gangs around the country wear certain numbers to let those around know they belong to a certain group. Sign of the times.

Jersey numbers originated for the sole purpose of identifying a player in a scorebook for statistics. It also helps spectators at an event locate a player from afar. Now, numbers identify a player long after they have left sports, which is why numbers are retired by organizations as a way of honoring individual athletes for superstar careers.

What's in a number?

Why is it that the No. 32 is the most popular sports number of all? It goes as far back as Jim Brown with the Browns, who seemed to open the floodgates to a plethora of present and future Hall of Fame athletes who followed his lead: O.J. Simpson, Sandy Koufax, Franco Harris, Steve Carlton, Magic Johnson, Karl Malone, Dennis Martinez, and Dr. J of the ABA. Let's not forget that three of the four past Super Bowls' leading rushers wore No. 32: the Pats' Antwain Smith and the Bucs' Michael Pittman. There are no great No. 32s in hockey, which goes to show that the number heralds itself nostalgically Americana.

The second greatest sports number is the one that has been worn by many Super Bowl champion quarterbacks: No. 12. Greats such as Joe Namath, Terry Bradshaw, Roger Staubach, Ken Stabler, and Tom Brady head a stellar cast. Not only is the No. 12 the most popular number worn by QB greats, but there are few field generals who were lousy that donned No. 12, such as Tony Banks.

How about Jackie Robinson's No. 42 being retired throughout baseball? That is number immortality at its peak.

Classy vs. Not-so-classy. Joe Montana, perhaps the greatest quarterback of all, wore No. 16 his entire stint with the 49ers, and when he finished his career with Kansas City, he switched to No. 19 in honor of the retired No. 16 enshrined to Len Dawson, quarterback of Super Bowl I. Jerry Rice became the greatest receiver to play football wearing the No. 80 for the 49ers and the Raiders. When he moved onto Seattle, he asked Steve Largent, the only Seahawk to have his number retired if he could dust aside all traditions and wear the No. 80, although it already hangs on the rafters in Seattle. Largent granted Rice his wish. What could've been a touch of class on Rice's part, exposed what the player who was once known for his focus and competitiveness, and now for his swollen ego.

Thanks to Wayne Gretzky for introducing the outlandish number No. 99 to a sport that was conservative in its number-wearing. The Great One started a trend in the NHL of football-like numbers such as Mario Lemieux's No. 66, Jaromir Jagr's No. 68, Alexander Mogilny's No. 89, and so on.

It was Dennis Rodman made it cool to go bigger than the traditional fifty-something in the NBA, sporting the No. 91 with the Bulls, then followed by freaks such as Gheorghe Muresan (No. 99), Shawn Bradley (No. 76), and the wanna-be Worm, Ron Artest (No. 91).

Chicago White Sox catcher Carlton Fisk introduced the mammoth No. 72 in the early-'80s, which was somewhat of a first, considering it was not uncommon for Negro League players such as Satchel Paige such numbers. Mitch William, a.k.a. Wild Thing, wore No. 99 when he gave it up to Joe Carter in the early-'90s. Nowadays, it is common, especially for pitchers, to go big.

In life, superstitious numbers such as No. 13 are seldom worn considering its unlucky stereotype. Dan Marino had a record setting, Hall of Fame career, but has no ring, and only made it to one Super Bowl. Ask Kurt Warner, who has been No. 13 with the Iowa Barnstormers of the Arena League, the St. Louis Rams, and New York Giants. Sure, he has two rings, one with Iowa and one with St. Louis, but now he holds the football like he has three fingers, and rides the pine. No quarterback has won a Super Bowl wearing the unlucky No. 13, except Warner.

Whatever happened to No. 00? Why aren't there any more Robert Parrishes and Billy "White Shoes" Johnsons. The double zero was the most popular iron-on number in the late-'70s, and now it's obsolete? Someone should bring it back.

Hopefully, not Artest.