| YES
Michael Jordan looks down a challenge like a rabid
Rottweiler eyes a slab of raw steak. Many people gush over
Jordan's Superman act, but there's truth in the hyperbole:
No. 23 finds ways to
win.
The Houston Rockets of 1994 and 1995 and the Utah Jazz of
1997 and 1998 are not that different. No one
stops Hakeem Olajuwon or Karl Malone—you start prayer
rituals that they'll
miss.
The question is, who stops Jordan? Vernon Maxwell? Maybe
with a revolver. And Jordan (pictured) took the wind out of Clyde
Drexler's glide three years before the Rockets snared their
second
title.
Yet the trademark of the Bulls' run isn't all Jordan-this
or Jordan-that. It's the ability to stop what the other
team does well—to divine the trail to victory. No one
is immune to that. And no one has discovered a cure for
that nasty team-killer
known as No.
23.
—Brian
Hamilton
|
|
NO
 MJ should be glad he retired when he did. His unbesmirched
NBA Finals legend would have been tainted in '94 when he
would have lost to the Houston Rockets and Hakeem Olajuwon (pictured),
whose game was
unstoppa-Bull.
The '94 Rockets were dominant where Chicago was most
vulnerable—at center. The Rockets had more size and
better depth. Robert Horry would have clamped down on
Scottie Pippen. The Dream would have matched His Airness
point for point, at least, against
the weak Chicago
pivotmen.
Even if the Bulls had managed to defeat the Rockets in two
hard-fought series in '94 and '95, those two battles would
have taken a physical toll on Jordan. Certainly, one reason
Jordan demonstrated unparalleled skills when he returned in
'95 was that he
had nearly two seasons of
rest.
Without that critical time off, there's no way Michael and
the Bulls thwart the '98 Jazz—their toughest Finals
foe since Hakeem in '94—and there's no way they string
together eight
titles.
—Dan
Shanoff
|
NBA Finals
