'What more do you need?'
Remembering MJ: His last shot won a championship
Posted: Wednesday January 13, 1999 10:50 AM
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One of the best ever: Jordan's accomplishments on the court have made him one of the greatest American sports legends AP |
CHICAGO (AP) -- His final shot seemed to hang in the air forever.
Was Michael
Jordan telling us something as he watched it settle through the net,
his right wrist cocked in a followthrough for several satisfying seconds?
On that night last June in Salt Lake City, he was savoring, it seemed,
the final seconds of his life in the NBA.
Turns out it was a perfect ending -- another last-second, game-clinching
shot to win a championship for the Chicago Bulls, a basket
that would not only cap his remarkable, unparalleled career but also one
that would symbolize and define it.
"He made his last shot to win a world championship," longtime Jordan
friend and opponent Charles
Barkley said last month. "What more do you need? That's every player's
fantasy."
He succeeded so often because attempting that game-deciding shot, pulling
out a victory when it was so in doubt, was what Jordan was all about.
"Best There Ever Was, Best There Ever Will Be," reads the inscription on
Jordan's statue outside the United Center, erected there in 1994 during his
first retirement.
The words were perfect, describing a superstar who defined basketball for
an entire decade.
Jordan led the Bulls to six NBA titles -- three straight and three more
after he returned. He won two Olympic gold medals, and his last-second
jumper as a skinny freshman in 1982 gave North Carolina's Dean Smith his
first NCAA title. He captured 10 scoring titles, was selected MVP of the
league five times and won the same award during the finals all six times he
competed.
His playoff scoring average is the highest ever, and he finished as the
No. 3 scorer in NBA history.
But there was so much more that defined Jordan.
Sky walker: Jordan dazzled crowds with his amazing dunks and mid-air mastery AP |
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The smile, the wagging tongue on the way to a dunk, the sweaty bald head
glaring in the lights, the stylish suits, the fashionable ear wear, the
victory cigars, the golf forays, the trash talk, the scowling, the unreal
pictures of him hovering above the rim, suspended in air during the slam
dunk contest, the incredulous glance at officials who would dare to make a
call against him.
The faithful son mourning his slain father, the retiree, the would-be
baseball player. And then back to the ultimate performer and showman in the
game he ruled like no other player.
The fans lining up for a snapshot, an autograph, a glimpse of this legend
in long shorts, all but bowing down at his statue outside the United
Center.
The rock star treatment on the road and at home.
Who could forget the evening in 1995 when rumors of his return were
rampant through a city that worshipped him. Within minutes, two city blocks
were mobbed by thousands just hoping to glimpse him as he departed a
downtown Chicago hotel where he held an office.
The hype, the nights of room service when being a normal person was
impossible, the endless questions about every aspect of his life, the
criticism of his gambling and the accusations that his athletic apparel
company was using sweatshop labor.
Movie star, subject of numerous books, the man everyone -- actors,
athletes and politicians -- wanted to meet. The athlete every kid wanted to
emulate. Just to "Be Like Mike," even if it was on a pretend playground.
The mind-boggling business empire he created with his name and his
persona and his dazzling string of endorsements for a variety of products.
His $10 billion impact, according to one financial magazine, on the
economy.
He was as big as Babe Ruth, as well-known as Muhammad Ali, more popular
than Arnold Palmer, as world-famous as Frank Sinatra or Elvis.
At 35 he could still play his game better than anyone. His skills were
not the same as they were 10 years ago, but he compensated by using his
experience to take him where his legs no longer would.
But this time, it was time.
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There was nothing else left to prove.
When he retired the first time in October 1993, he thought there was
little left to motivate him, his father's public murder giving him a
different perspective on what was important.
He went away and he came back. Save for a brief period at the end of the
1995 season when his skills were still rusty, he was not a shadow of what
he once was.
So many athletes retire and then return yearning for what they left
behind. But Jordan did come back and his reputation -- except for that one
brief period -- didn't waver as he added three more championships.
"He's always said he wants to leave on top. What better way?" teammate Steve Kerr said.
"I wouldn't miss it at all, as much as you may think," Jordan said after
vanquishing the Utah
Jazz in the 1998 Finals, the Bulls' sixth title in their run through
the 90s.
The year before, he beat the same team with a last-second pass to Kerr;
this time he sliced their hearts, first with a steal and then another,
in-your-face, you-can't-stop-me game-winner.
"Sure, I may have some (nostalgia) when it comes back to this time of the
season, but I've got enough memories to suffice and overcome that," he
said.
"I have another life. And I know I have to get to it at some point in
time. Hopefully the fans and the people understand that."
After ending his first retirement, he had some incredible moments --
beating Atlanta at the buzzer in his fourth game back, scoring 55 points
against New York three nights later, helping the Bulls win 13 of their last
17 regular-season games and leading Chicago past Charlotte in the first
round of the playoffs.
But his memories were of shooting 41 percent from the floor, of making
crucial mistakes during the Bulls' six-game playoff loss to Orlando and of
hearing some members of the media say he could never again be the Jordan
who carried Chicago to NBA titles in 1991, 1992 and 1993.
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He also was criticized for changing uniform numbers during the playoffs.
And his offseason included an unsuccessful bid to decertify the players
union.
But then he took a summer to rehone his game, revisit his skills. He came
back stronger and more determined than ever.
Surrounded by a new cast of players, reunited with his long-time sidekick
Scottie
Pippen and his coach of choice, Jackson, Jordan brought the Bulls back
to the top of the NBA.
Taking back the leadership role that Pippen had struggled with during his
absence, Jordan had what he always needed -- another challenge. Those who
thought he'd been away too long or was too old were wrong.
He would show them, and he did as the Bulls won an NBA record 72 games in
the 1995-96 season.
He heard the cries of double standard by frustrated defenders and and
charges of preferential treatment from the officials. He was above the game
-- literally and figuratively -- because he had done so much for it, made
the NBA known from one side of the planet to the other.
Theatre? How about donning his early footwear for a retro attack on the
hated Knicks at Madison Square Garden and once again beating the whiny,
arrogant team that could never contain him. He twice decimated Cleveland in
the playoffs with last-second shots, so much so that the Cavs, despite many
changes, have never recovered.
Jordan led the league in scoring for the 10th time last season, although
his 28.7 average was his lowest since his second year in the league. His 46
percent shooting during the regular season was his lowest for a full
season, and his 78 percent from the line was a career low.
But in a close game, it was still give him the ball and watch him work.
What was it like to guard him?
"Hell," says Nick Anderson,
the Orlando Magic
guard, who gave Jordan problems in the 1995 playoffs as Jordan struggled to
regrasp his game. "You ever been to hell before? You don't want to go."
Jordan isn't sticking around because he wants glory or needs money. He's
finished because he couldn't have picked a better time to say goodbye.
"I want to leave at the top of my game," he said last season. "That's
something I've always said about when it's time for me to walk away. I know
people wouldn't expect it because I'm still playing at a high level. But
that's the appropriate time to leave, I think."
Copyright 2003 Associated Press. All rights reserved. This material may not be published, broadcast, rewritten, or redistributed.
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