Michael Jordan shakes off Bryon Russell, takes a step, and delivers a signature jumper.
With five seconds to go in Game 6 of the 1998 NBA Finals, it couldn't have happened any other way. That was the way Jordan played.
The Jazz of course, had no comeback. In their five seconds to force a Game 7, the ball was gifted to their surest chance of a basket – John Stockton. The Point-Guard opted for one of his signature threes, but all he could manage was a bounce off the rim.
Nine times out of ten, that shot would have gone in for Stockton. The way Jordan played, you could only think it would go in all ten times.
The buzzer sounded and the Bulls completed their second “three-peat” in eight years.
So what was Jordan's legacy after these finals? His impact was undoubtedly missed as the next season the Bulls struggled mightily without Jordan, Scottie Pippen and Dennis Rodman. Jordan had of course retired for the second time, while Pippen and Rodman were traded for cups of coffee in an attempt to bring youth into the ageing squad.
Jordan's legacy is crystal clear. Every shining player in history is compared to him, and in most peoples eyes, including mine, all come up short. He had the total package needed to be not only the best of his generation, but the GOAT (Greatest of All-Time). Looking at the best players in NBA history, the likes of Larry Bird, Bill Russell, Jerry West, Wilt Chamberlain, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Julius Irving, Magic Johnson, Tim Duncan, Shaquille O'Neal and possibly Kobe Bryant, all possessed something that made them special. What made Jordan special was that he had more than a handful of things that made him special. No one could match what he had, evidenced by the number of titles he won for the Bulls and the number of Finals MVP trophies he won – six, by the way (double that of Magic, Shaq and Duncan).
I see Jordan's game being played today. I don't see one particular player imitating his style and ability (the Bryant comparison is tired) , but rather several players that possess a single quality that Jordan had. No one has what his Airness had. I see Jordan's aggressiveness and cocksure drives to the basket in Dwyane Wade. I see Jordan's fade-away jumper in Kobe Bryant. I see Jordan's dunks imitated by LeBron James (not a true imitation, but who can actually dunk the way Jordan did?)
Wade, James and Bryant are three of the top six or seven players in the game today, and I only see a couple of MJ characteristics in them that define them as being in that upper-echelon. Of course, they're all fantastic players, but I can only imagine Jordan playing them like the stars of his era. The men he denied rings – men like Karl Malone, Patrick Ewing and Reggie Miller.
All NBA players strive to be the best. Jordan strived to be more than that.
In that Game 6 in '98, NBC announcer Bob Costas remarked that Jordan played every game like he had everything to prove, and he couldn't be more accurate. Jordan played the most intense, dialled-in, focused game of basketball ever seen. For opposing players to match his game and mindset, it was impossible. You could force a seven-game series to go the distance, but ultimately Jordan would come out on top.
Not everything was golden with Jordan. Just look at the way he interacted with opposing players. He talked smack after big dunks and baskets – because he could. If anyone ever had the right to do so, it was him. When we see a player do that these days, we tend to lambaste and look down on them, because at the end of the day, he's not the GOAT. We say, sure, take in the plaudits, talk up a big game, but you'll never be Jordan. The media react in the same way. Not many people criticised Jordan for it because they knew how special he was, but when a guy like LeBron, Kobe or Wade mouths off, they're labelled as arrogant and ego-centric.
Jordan was given a free-pass. Why? Because after the game was over, he'd happily talk to the media and give credit to his opponents – win or loss – and he would give credit to his team-mates for the win. He was the ultimate showman on the court, and the ultimate gentleman off it. Some of todays players should learn from him. Every year LeBron has been eliminated in the playoffs, or beaten in the finals, he's sulked. He's walked away from the cameras and media and even failed to congratulate his opponents. That's not what a sporting gentleman does. It's what a coward does. This sounds like an attack on “King James”, I know, but a little humility might help the man – especially after the way he handled his move to Miami. It's not just LeBron though, we all saw how childish and disrespectful Kobe Bryant can be in the same situation. Also, you don't shout gay-slurs to the referee when a call goes the other way, you take it like a man and keep playing.
The NBA was never a bigger entity than that of when Jordan played the game. It remained a hugely-followed sport in the wake of Jordan's second retirement thanks to emerging stars like Shaq, Duncan, Bryant, Allen Iverson and the 1999 MVP Karl Malone. But in 1999, it seemed like all of American sports was thriving. Football had the Super Bowl champions St. Louis Rams (dubbed “The Greatest Show on Turf”), hockey had Jaromir Jagr tearing up the league, and baseball had Sammy Sosa and Mark McGwire hitting 60-plus home-runs for the second consecutive season (not to mention an incredible New York Yankees team). Even professional wrestling was at its highest peak.
The shortened NBA season of 1999 was like a funeral for Jordan's career. It was as if the whole of the NBA decided the only way to commemorate his incredible career was to just not play anything resembling the sport. To some, it seemed like there was no basketball without Jordan. He meant that much. If you ever needed a bigger example of how much Michael Jordan meant to the NBA, then you had to look no further than Game Six.
Commissioner David Stern presented Jordan with the MVP trophy, thanking him for “gracing us with your presence”, like he was a God. The NBC crew repeatedly asked whether Jordan was coming back, and he and Pippen both dodged the question. I can only imagine the look on Stern's face, imagining an NBA he'd inherited in 1984 – Jordan's rookie year, without the man that single-handedly made the sport into a worldwide phenomenon. No wonder he was gushing when he gifted him the trophy.
Michael Jordan reached a level of popularity no other athlete has ever or will ever see. He transcended his talent into an enigma, and into a household name. His character and ability pushed him over the top to the status of icon.
There will never be another Michael Jordan, and I don't whether that makes me happy or sad.
