Animal Style: How Dwight Howard Learned to Dunk

“I hit the ground like a sack of potatoes,” said a fearful Erick Dampier after a 111-108 Dallas win over Orlando. “I think I’d rather dance around in a Britney Spears schoolgirl costume than go through that again.”

Dampier was referring to the Dwight Howard dunk he witnessed up close and personal—and which left him in a state of humiliation.

The good news for Dampier is that he isn’t the only one to feel the pain of a thunderous jam from the league’s leading dunker.

Howard more than doubles the next closest players in dunks—Andrew Bynum and Shawn Marion—with an incredible 112.

Where exactly did this beast learned his trade?

It’s quite simple, really.

Growing up in Atlanta, Dwight was a raised by a pair of very religious parents. They loved him very much, and believed that Dwight should be raised by only the best of standards.

No one can argue with the route they chose to take, considering Dwight is one of the league’s most well-behaved players. But one choice the Howards almost didn’t make could have prevented Dwight from becoming the man he is today.

Howard did all the right things as a child, including eating right, according to his parents’ guidelines.

Or at least he did until one fateful day in the backyard of his best friend’s house.

James was a positive influence on Dwight. His parents weren’t as strict on him as the Howards were on Dwight, but different people were good for Dwight’s growth.

And then came snack time.

Dwight ate only fruits and healthy midday snacks, while James settled for sweets of all kinds. His most favorite snack of them all was the Oreo cookie.

Oh James loved them—and he especially loved to dunk them in milk.

Dwight would have none of it, though; he respected and obeyed his parents too much to deviate from his diet.

But just as it always does, peer pressure won out, and Dwight had a cookie. It was the greatest thing ever—a mixture of tastes he'd never had before.

Dwight wouldn’t stop there. He'd had milk before; in fact he has it every day. But he had to take it to the next level. He had to dunk the Oreo.

Dwight dunked the cookie better than anyone had ever dunked it before. In all of James' years of Oreo dunking, he had never seen someone with such tenacity and finesse. Dwight was ruthless yet spectacular in what he did.

From there, Dwight was hooked. He would do anything he could to dunk Oreos. He’d request milk in his school lunches and impress the entire cafeteria with his extreme Oreo dunking skill. The other kids would bring him Oreos just to see him work his magic.

Soon after, though, the Oreos took their toll, and it was obvious that Dwight wasn’t following his diet. His mom took notice and broached the subject.

“But Ma, I love to dunk! It’s what I’m good at! No one is better than me!”

It didn't matter to Mrs. Howard; no son of hers was going to disrupt his diet just because he was good at dunking.

Dwight went into a downward spiral. His love of dunking was taken away, and with that went his concentration and desire. His grades fell, he got benched on the basketball team, and suddenly the kids in school didn’t much care to acknowledge the former dunker.

But like all good parents who notice the good and the bad, Mr. Howard knew what he had to do.

Dwight came home from school one day to find a glass of milk on the kitchen table with a note on top of a bag.

“Dunk like you’ve never dunked before. Love, Mom and Dad”

Dwight opened the bag to find boxes of Animal Crackers.

Not only where Animal Crackers not as fattening as Oreos, but their unique shapes and sizes only improved Dwight’s dunking abilities. They gave him new angles and ideas—and eventually the creativity would translate into success.

“Is there anything you can’t dunk?,” a reporter asked Howard after the game.

“There is one thing,” Dwight responded. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t. I’m just not allowed.”