😱WOW😱: MEMPHIS GRIZZLIES STAR JA MORANT SET A GENIUS WORLD RECORD, BEEN THE FIRST TO… FLY?!
It started as a whisper in the arena.
A no-look pass here. A behind-the-back crossover there. And then… liftoff.
When **Ja Morant** leapt from just inside the free-throw line—twisting midair, ducking under a defender’s elbow, windmilling the ball, and smashing it through the rim with thunder—the **FedExForum didn’t cheer. It screamed.** The noise cracked like lightning.
Somewhere in the chaos, a fan live-streaming courtside shouted, “**Bro just broke gravity!**”
That’s when the stat came in. First from the Grizzlies’ social media. Then picked up by ESPN. Then flashed across international news tickers.
**”JA MORANT HAS SET A GENIUS WORLD RECORD: MOST IN-AIR TIME DURING A SINGLE NBA GAME.”**
Officially: **36 minutes and 49 seconds. Of total airtime.**
No human had ever spent that much accumulated time airborne—**during regulation play**—in the history of professional basketball.
Not Michael. Not Vince. Not LeBron.
**Only Ja.**
—
The **GENIUS World Record Committee**, known for quirky yet precise records—fastest cartwheel by a cat, longest video game session on a treadmill—had scientists reviewing Ja’s performance in real-time. Slow-motion replays, frame-by-frame altitude analysis, sneaker tech breakdowns. It was absurd. And true.
Ja Morant hadn’t just jumped.
He had practically floated.
That night was quickly dubbed **“The Hangtime Game.”** And it would go down in basketball folklore.
—
**Let’s rewind 12 hours.**
Pre-game, Ja Morant arrived to the arena in a vintage jet-black Mustang, music blasting, diamond-studded shades on. Reporters swarmed, asking about his recent triple-double streak, but Ja just grinned.
“I feel light today,” he said.
Nobody knew he meant *physically* light.
Not even coach Jenkins. Not even his teammates. Not even the guy managing Ja’s TikTok, who had just posted a viral video of him dunking over three yoga balls during warm-ups.
“I’m gonna fly tonight,” Ja had whispered to himself in the tunnel.
—
**First quarter.**
The Grizzlies won the tip. From the jump, Ja was different. Not just fast. Not just agile. But **airborne**—more often than not. Dunks. Layups. Tip-backs. Alley-oops. His hangtime looked edited.
The stat crew noticed it early: he was getting off the floor with unnatural hang. Almost like he paused mid-jump. Floaty, like a video game glitch—but beautiful.
By halftime, he had **23 points**, **11 assists**, **7 rebounds**, and **a suspicious number of midair seconds.**
—
That’s when the GENIUS rep in attendance—Dr. Olivia Chang, a Harvard-trained physicist who typically worked in biomechanics—got a message from her watch.
“Ja Morant has exceeded previous air-time thresholds for any basketball athlete in one half.”
The crowd didn’t know. But by then, the NBA did. The cameras locked in. Slow-motion replay tech was engaged. They even brought out the secret “Hang-Cam,” a high-speed motion capture lens only used for All-Star dunk contests.
Third quarter: Ja dunked **over** a center—**and** the center’s *teammate*.
“Did he step on clouds?” the announcer shouted. “Did Ja just break the simulation?!”
—
By the **fourth**, the arena was packed. Fans texted their friends. Celebrities began showing up mid-game. Usher. J. Cole. Even Elon Musk, who tweeted cryptically, “Ja Morant may have discovered anti-gravity pockets. Tesla will investigate.”
In total, Ja spent more than **a full quarter’s worth of time** airborne.
The final bucket? A 360-reverse dunk after leaping **from the free throw line** during a steal. It was like something out of *NBA Street Vol. 2*—only real. Only louder. Only Ja.
The buzzer sounded. Grizzlies won by 17. But the number that mattered wasn’t on the scoreboard—it was in the sky.
**36:49.** Total hangtime. Officially clocked. Certified. Genius-verified.
—
**Post-game**, Ja walked into the press conference, wearing his jersey backwards like it was a cape.
“How’d it feel to be in the air that long?” someone asked.
Ja sipped his drink and smirked. “Up there? It’s quiet. Kinda peaceful. Like the game slows down. I might build a house up there.”
Reporters laughed. Some didn’t. One ESPN writer just typed: *“Ja Morant no longer plays on a court. He plays in orbit.”*
—
In the following days:
* Nike announced a “**Ja Morant Zero-G**” signature sneaker line with pressurized soles and a silver-and-space-blue design.
* GENIUS World Records awarded him live, mid-practice, handing him a platinum trophy shaped like a leaping silhouette. It immediately sold as a limited-edition Funko Pop.
* NBA commissioner Adam Silver called it “the most physics-defying game of the modern era.”
Even NASA got involved, releasing a short statement: *“While Ja Morant’s airtime is not technically spaceflight, the phenomenon is being studied.”*
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But for Ja, it wasn’t about records.
It was about **motion**.
About **expression**.
“I don’t jump to make people gasp,” he said in a reflective moment. “I jump ‘cause that’s where I feel free. Like, for a second—I’m not just playing basketball. I’m dancing in the sky.”
That quote ended up painted as a mural on the side of a Memphis rec center. Kids took turns jumping off curbs, trying to mimic Ja’s pose mid-dunk, captured in freeze-frame glory.
One little girl yelled, “I’m gonna break Ja’s record one day!”
Her friend replied, “You’ll need a jetpack!”
They laughed. But somewhere, inside a hardwood-floored gym in Tennessee, Ja was already planning his next ascent.
—
**The Legend of Hangtime had only just begun.**
Because after the record was set, Ja teased something else on Instagram Live:
**“Next time? I’m going for 40 minutes. Might need wings though.”**
The chat blew up.
And honestly?
No one doubted him.