Every dunk in Vertly is one of 275 cards, hand-ranked by Cam from rank 1 (1 Hand off Lob) to rank 275 (360 Double Eastbay, the hardest dunk ever done). Land one, mint the card, and your proof clip lives on the back forever. Filterable, sorted, yours.

Rank is the map, not the gate. Nothing locks. If you can land rank 214 before rank 30, go take it.

Sets group the catalog by move. Finish every windmill in the book and you mint the Windmill Master title card, a monument almost nobody else will hold. Ten sets. One is the endgame.

Your vertical has its own ladder. Eight clubs from a 24 inch bounce to the 50 club, and every crossing gets its own ceremony. The 40 club is the only gold call in the app. Past 44, the air turns to ice.

The window is real

The years before 18 are when the nervous system learns to be explosive. Young athletes who jump early and often are firing exactly the fibers that make fast, springy, coordinated adults. Jumping is one of the most studied markers of athleticism there is, and the direction of the research is consistent: the athletes who fly later are the kids who bounced early.

Fun is the engine

Kids repeat what feels like a game. Vertly turns jump training into one: every dunk is a card to earn, every vertical milestone is a club to join, and every new personal best gets a full-screen celebration. The training underneath is real. The wrapper is joy.

Low rims make it safe to start today

Nobody starts at 10 feet. In Vertly an 8 foot rim counts, a 9 foot rim counts, and every card is stamped with the height it was earned on. A 10 year old on the driveway hoop is running the same climb as a pro, imagining they're Cam Hazzard, and building real athleticism the whole time.

Honest by design

No fake promises. You will not find "+15 inches in 3 months" anywhere in this app. Progress gets measured honestly, celebrated loudly, and coached one next right step at a time. As Cam puts it:

This summer I'm one of 24 dunkers in the world that Shaquille O'Neal picked for the DunkMan League. It's live on TNT. There's $500,000 on the line. It's my first real dunk contest, and everyone keeps asking the same question: man, aren't you nervous?

And my answer is the same one it's been my whole climb: I'm just trying to have fun. That's not a line. It's the actual method.

The game in my head

I never grinded my vertical. I played it. Beat my squat max. Beat my best touch. Take a dunk I already had and add one more thing: a 360 Eastbay is already brutal, so finish it with two hands. Then change the style. One dunk becomes five, and every one of them is a new game to win.

I did all of that on low rims first. 8 foot, 9 foot, messing around with my friends, imagining bigger stages. While I was having fun, I was accidentally building a pro athlete. First dunk at 15 on a rec-center rim. A tested 50 inch vertical now, one of about seven people ever to do it.

The hard parts count too

It hasn't been clean. I tore both hamstrings weeks after my first windmill. In January I shattered a metacarpal and broke a knuckle off, plates and screws, hand strapped to my chest. The call about DunkMan came days after that surgery. Two and a half weeks after I was cleared to jump again, I went to class from 8 to 12, worked 12 to 5, drove to the gym, and tested 50. My 8 to 5, and then tested 50.

Why I built Vertly

The game I just described was always in my head: the numbers, the next dunk, the celebrations I gave myself. Vertly is that game, built for real. A coach trained on how I actually train, that learns you the way I'd learn you. A bag for every dunk you land, because your best work deserves better than a buried post. A climb that always has a next card. And celebrations, because the whole point is that you don't have to do this. You get to.

I wish I had this as a kid. It was already playing in my head. Now I just get to hand it to you.