The power of numbers is special in sports, especially when it comes to jerseys. They have meanings far beyond just the numbers themselves. For basketball fans, the No. 23 will always invoke memories of Michael Jordan no matter who wears the number (there's a reason LeBron is No. 23, and in turn, Eric Gordon). There will be a legion of kids who wear No. 18 in their youth sports' leagues in honor of Peyton Manning, and any No. 34 is worn in honor of the greatest running back of all-time — there is no argument in my world — Walter Payton.

Indiana basketball has its own honor roll when it comes to jerseys although those numbers don't seem to get the same kind of respect at IU that they do at other schools. Other universities retire numbers, but no Hoosier number has ever been retired. I'm OK with that. Indiana basketball has always been about the name on the front of the jersey first and foremost, and the numbers aren't nearly as important as the performers who wear them.

Still, in my mind, certain numbers will always belong to certain players, no matter who wears them in the future. For instance, Inside Indiana writer Wes Scott once told me he had purchased a Lance Stemler jersey, but I quickly corrected him. The conversation went something like this:

Scott: "Hey, I just bought a Lance Stemler jersey."

Bikoff: "No, you didn't."

Scott: "OK. I get it. Then I just bought a Marshall Strickland jersey."

Bikoff: "No, you didn't."

Scott: "Then what is it?"

Bikoff: "It's a Damon Bailey throwback jersey. End of discussion." Certain numbers simply will never belong to others. Steve Alford is No. 12, no matter if Luke Jimenez or Donald Perry tried to make it their own. Keith Smart is No. 23 at IU — period. You hit the shot to win a national championship, you become the number. Sean Kline, for as much as I loved him, didn't win IU a banner while wearing that number. Neither did Steve Hart nor Rob Turner. No. 23 is all Smart in Bloomington.

But that "national championship" rule will have to be suspended this year — barring one heck of a run in the tournament — when it comes to one of IU's current seniors. Dan Dakich was great. So was Dane Fife. Isiah Thomas hung a banner, but in my mind, No. 11 at Indiana will always be Errek Suhr going forward.

"Wait," I'm sure you're saying. "Errek Suhr over Isiah Thomas for No. 11? Isiah won a national championship. He was one of the few IU players to go on to NBA greatness. How can Errek Suhr steal that kind of thunder?"

The simple answer is — and I really don't think I'm alone on this one — I respect Errek Suhr much more than I do Isiah. I'm not going to turn this into an Isiah-bash fest, so I'll move on, but I will say that Isiah played basketball for the Hoosiers. Suhr is Hoosier basketball.

It has been a long, odd trip for Suhr at IU, from those days as a walk-on under former head coach Mike Davis to becoming a scholarship player who is a fan favorite — but not in the Kevin Lemme kind of way. He's the little guy who made good thanks to hard work and determination. Adam Ahlfeld once told me Suhr was his "hero" for the way he worked his way into the lineup. Davis said last season that he kept looking for reasons why Suhr shouldn't be on the floor and couldn't find one. In fact, Suhr might hold the Indiana record for causing fans to look at one another and ask, "Why doesn't he get more playing time?"

After playing just four games as a freshman and 15 games as a sophomore, Suhr has been a fixture in the IU rotation for the past two seasons. He's listed at 5-9 this year although it seems he somehow grew an inch when Kelvin Sampson took over. I've stood next to him, and I know for sure I'm 5-9. He was shorter than me, so someone is telling lies. Anyway, his ability to change the momentum of a game despite playing limited minutes — did you realize Ben Allen averages more playing time than Suhr this year? — is what has endeared him to the coaching staff.

Sampson has said the only negative he can find about Errek Suhr is that he's a senior. No less an authority than Duke head coach Mike Krzyzewski was staggered by what Suhr brought to the floor during IU's loss to the Blue Devils in late November.

"That kid Suhr, he took his team, it was drowning, and picked them all up," Coach K said. "What a courageous performance by that kid. That's the beauty of the college game. I don't know. The kid is going to be a banker or something... I won't say anything else (laughing). I'm going to get myself in trouble. But he was terrific."

Former head coach and current ESPN college basketball analyst Steve Lavin has called him "the pepperpot" for the energy Suhr brings to the floor. During that Duke game, the Blue Devil fans started chanting "Hobbit" at Suhr, but he silenced them in just a few minutes. IU fans use all kinds of words to describe him. "The Little Guy." "The Hustler." "The Worker." My father calls him "The Waterbug."

I don't know if there has been a player at Indiana in the past quarter-century who has earned more respect on a basketball court than Suhr. When he comes into a game, he makes a difference every single time. He's the little-things guy. Nobody draws more charges. Nobody hits the floor harder and gets back up every time.

There is a photo floating around out there — I can't remember if I saw it in The Herald-Times (Bloomington) or The Indianapolis Star — but it is a shot of Suhr in mid-air after being trucked by some opponent while taking a charge. Suhr is a couple of feet off the ground, and in that frozen moment of time is the definition of Suhr's career at Indiana. Take a charge. Get dirty. Do whatever it takes to win a basketball game.

Suhr has his flaws on the basketball court. His size makes him a defensive liability at times. He can't create his own offense and he has a tough time getting off shots if he is guarded too closely. But, the beauty of Suhr is that he doesn't try to do too much on the floor. He also has the right attitude, never accepting too much credit for what he does, always deferring to teammates and preaching whatever the coaching staff is trying to teach.

We have been privileged to see Suhr play over the past four years and especially during his time on the court the last two seasons. He should be an inspiration for every young player out there with the dream of playing big-time college ball. Suhr has given his heart and soul to IU basketball, and he has asked for nothing in return but the opportunity to get run over again by someone a foot taller and 50 pounds heavier.

Isiah may have hung a banner at Assembly Hall, but Suhr's impact on young IU fans may have been greater. It's why someday I will be forced to correct someone who claims to be wearing an Isiah Thomas jersey.

"Sorry," I'll say. "But at Indiana, No. 11 belongs to Errek Suhr."