Here are five key points from episodes 7 and 8 of “The Last Dance,” a documentary series focusing on Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls’ championship season of 1997-98:
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1. So that’s why he was a jerk
This was less about revealing a secret and more about delving into Jordan’s mind and driving force. When he pushed his Bulls teammates beyond what even the toughest Marine drill instructors would do to new recruits, it was partly for his own benefit. He wanted to ensure that his team, the Jordanaires, were capable of securing championships.
However, it was also for their benefit. We witnessed some of the harshest forms of “tough love” in Jordan’s requirements, ridicule, and clashes with his fellow Chicago teammates.
Finally, we have Jordan pulling back the curtain on it.
“Winning comes at a cost,” Jordan stated in his recent discussions with the documentary team. “So does leadership.”
“Once you joined the team, you lived up to the standard at which I played the game. I wasn’t willing to accept anything less.”
Bill Wennington, a center who joined the Bulls during Jordan’s first retirement, received a straightforward welcome when the team leader returned. Wennington shared that Jordan told him, “I want you to jump on the cape. But you have to hold on.”
If it required physically assaulting teammates like Will Perdue and Steve Kerr, verbally attacking Scott Burrell, or emotionally breaking Dennis Hopson to tears (which happened in 1990-91 and is not included in the documentary), then so be it.
“He couldn’t be a nice guy with that kind of mentality he had,” said B.J. Armstrong.
As podcast king Adam Carolla often points out, Jordan’s philosophy wasn’t about you performing at your best, but rather you performing at his level of excellence. He was particular in emphasizing that he never demanded anything from a teammate that he himself wasn’t doing.
He got very emotional too.
“Desiring not just my victory, but theirs as well, was my intention,” said Jordan, his voice growing husky. “If you’re not inclined to play in such a manner, then simply don’t.”
He paused at that point and said, “Break,” effectively calling his own “cut” to the scene.
2. James Jordan never left his side
We were unavoidably led through the summer of 1993, when James, Jordan’s father, was randomly and fatally assaulted on a Carolina highway. However, Episode 7 revealed that Michael’s decision to retire was not a direct result of his father’s tragic death. In fact, he had been contemplating retirement after winning the ’93 title, possibly even as early as fall 1992.
His venture into baseball was largely motivated by his father.
Michael's No. 1 fan from the beginning.#TheLastDance pic.twitter.com/nW4YeC1p7Y
— Chicago Bulls (@chicagobulls) May 11, 2020
Before his basketball career took off, Jordan had a fondness for baseball, having played and enjoyed it previously. He was inspired by multi-sport athletes like Bo Jackson and Deion Sanders who had successfully managed dual sports careers. However, it was his family’s support for baseball and his father’s advice to pursue what brought him joy that led him to take a leap of faith. He moved to Birmingham, Alabama, amidst skepticism from the sports community, to play for the Class AA Barons in the Chicago White Sox system.
At his 1993 retirement news conference, which took place 10 weeks after his father was murdered, Jordan made two comments that particularly stood out. He first remarked, “The word ‘retire’ means you can do anything you want.” He then followed with, “He saw my last basketball game.”
As the documentary transitioned between different timelines, James Jordan was depicted as a constant figure by his son’s side, appearing as a counterpart to Scottie Pippen. This was evident up until Game 6 of the 1996 Finals against Seattle. Those of us who reported on that championship series, where Chicago initially led 3-0 before losing Games 4 and 5, forcing them to return to United Center, retrospectively questioned if there was a poetic twist of fate at play. The decisive game took place on Father’s Day, marking the first championship victory for Jordan and the Bulls without Michael’s father present.
We’ve witnessed NBA stars becoming emotional and shedding tears during their championship victory moments. However, seeing Jordan on the trainer’s room floor, weeping while hugging the basketball and attempting to avoid the cameras instead of playing to them, was an entirely new level of authenticity.
3. Pippen’s star turn, minus 1.8 seconds
At the time Jordan first retired, he was working in Minneapolis where he was faced with a cruel irony. The Timberwolves, who had been comically bad but essentially terrible for their first four years, were finally about to get their big break by hosting the 1994 NBA All-Star Game in February.
And now, it was getting an All-Star Game without Michael Jordan, which was hard to swallow.
Of course, that was a narrow-minded perspective. Think about the shock Bulls fans must have experienced when the greatest player in the game decided to retire while still at his peak. However, both markets were unexpectedly delighted.
Pippen experienced the peak season of his career, guiding Chicago to an unexpected 55-27 season, especially considering the loss of Michael Jordan just before training camp. In the MVP voting, he ranked third, trailing behind Hakeem Olajuwon and David Robinson. Moreover, he filled the void left by Jordan’s departure, becoming the standout star and winning the All-Star MVP trophy, much to the delight of Twin Cities basketball fans.
Pippen was not the same as Jordan, both in terms of his playing style and personality, which resonated well with his teammates. However, we have become so accustomed to Jordan’s aggressive, forceful, and obsessive way of motivating his teammates that some of the Bulls were perceived as somewhat soft for appreciating the change.
The internal dynamics of the team drastically shifted within 1.8 seconds when Pippen decided not to participate in the final moments of Game 3 of the East semifinals series against New York. Coach Phil Jackson designed the play for Toni Kukoc to make the last shot, and Pippen was not even on the court as a decoy. Instead, Jackson had Pippen, the team’s top passer, inbounding the ball.
After years of playing second fiddle to Jordan and then finally advancing in rank, Pippen felt he was back to a supporting role with the arrival of rookie Kukoc. Kukoc was the European discovery of General Manager Jerry Krause, who was already a thorn in Pippen’s side.
Despite his reasons seeming logical now, he was completely mistaken. It was intriguing to watch the footage from ’94 and the reflections of various Bulls players on Sunday night, showing how adult men reacted to feeling betrayed by a teammate. This happened after Kukoc managed to score a last-second shot, temporarily holding off the Knicks.
“It was devastating. He quit on us,” said Steve Kerr.
Center Bill Cartwright was so distressed when he confronted Pippen in the locker room that he shed tears.
Pippen immediately apologized and Kerr confirmed that the team accepted it. Despite his ferocious performance in the final three games of the series, the Bulls were ultimately eliminated.
Pippen’s legacy is firmly established. He has been inducted into the Hall of Fame, was listed as one of the Top 50 players in NBA history in 1997 (even though he still had seven seasons left in his career), and is generally regarded as the most significant No. 2 player in an NBA team’s history.
Even now, you can find replica jerseys in Chicago that, instead of featuring his usual number 33, have “Pippen 1.8” written on them.
4. Comparing Jordan’s ‘bodies’ of work
The NBA’s top player departed to play minor league baseball for a season and may have continued if not for the prolonged labor conflict in the sport that extended into the spring of 1995.
Jordan sporting a different appearance, swinging at curveballs with his bat instead of showing off his tongue on dunks was a unique sight. However, he retained his usual persona, reminding us of that deviation and reviewing the footage on Sunday.
However, he wasn’t. He had exchanged his top-tier basketball physique for one more appropriate for baseball, and… was there much talk about that during that period?
Back in the day, it appeared that the brief season and postseason from March 1995 up to the Bulls’ defeat to Orlando was primarily memorable for Jordan’s resonating performances during his comeback. This was also the short period when he wore the number 45 instead of his iconic 23 on his Bulls’ jersey. However, it turns out that Jordan wasn’t just out of practice or too fresh, having joined the reformed Chicago team in the manner he did.
Jordan had trained to become a baseball player instead of a basketball player. Subsequently, he had to undergo a physical transformation to revert back.
Good Guys Wear Black (& Red) #TheLastDance pic.twitter.com/gi6LnaJL3W
— Chicago White Sox (@whitesox) May 11, 2020
“Reflecting on it, I didn’t have sufficient time to get my physique back into basketball shape,” said Jordan.
Without meaning to disrespect Shaquille O’Neal, Penny Hardaway in their youth, or former Bull player Horace Grant, it might be a challenge to get Jordan to admit it.
Tim Grover, Jordan’s personal trainer, and Chip Schaefer of the Bulls supported that explanation. The reflexes, strength, and agility required for one sport were significantly different from the other. The difference might not have been as obvious as transforming Yankees’ power-hitter Aaron Judge, who stands 6-foot-7 and weighs 280 pounds, into a functional NBA power forward. However, the difference was genuine.
This section of the document depicted Jordan embracing his role in “Space Jam” in the summer of 1995, highlighting his determination to attain his previous prowess. He convinced the film studio to build the “Jordan Dome,” a full-sized basketball court and gym on its lot for his daily two-hour workouts. In the evenings, he organized and participated in top-level pickup games with NBA players. This not only helped him refine his skills but also allowed him to assess theirs.
5. Don’t look, talk or even breathe at Jordan
If you desire a shot at defeating him, avoid it. Jordan’s tendency to turn insults, whether genuine or fabricated, into intense motivation was thoroughly demonstrated on Sunday.
It’s often said in sports that players and teams can occasionally tap into their full potential, maximize their abilities at the right moments, and even extend their high-performance “zone” during particularly focused instances. However, they are not expected to be able to suddenly boost their performance, similar to hitting the nitrous oxide in a drag race.
Apparently, Jordan was the exception. He had a knack for turning immediate animosities into extraordinary performances and even creating them. He was akin to Bruce Banner transforming into the full-on Hulk mode.
The LaBradford Smith story was early legend. That’s when Jordan got so incensed by the Washington guard’s big scoring night against him in Chicago that he torched Smith the very next night of a back-to-back. But the kicker was Smith’s alleged remark (“Nice game, Mike”) after the first game never happened. Somehow, Jordan convinced himself that it had and got his revenge.
On Sunday, we saw plenty of the tension that once divided Isiah Thomas and Jordan. An example was Nick Anderson’s comment after the Magic’s Game 1 victory in their ’95 playoff series, where he said, “45 isn’t 23.”
Seattle’s coach, George Karl, found himself in a lose-lose situation when he failed to stop by Jordan’s table at a restaurant to show his respect. Regardless of their Carolina connection, it made no difference to Jordan.
“That’s everything I required,” he stated. “It turned into something personal for me.”
Lastly, a replay of Jordan’s previous response in the series to a comment made by Thomas, seen on a tablet given to him. This time, it was Gary Payton expressing his thoughts on how the ’96 Finals could have turned out differently if Karl had assigned Payton to guard Jordan prior to Game 4.
Gary Payton thought he found a way to get to MJ … Mike wasn't sweating the Glove #TheLastDance pic.twitter.com/Z8NG7qN5hW
— ESPN (@espn) May 11, 2020
“Continuously striking and banging him wore Mike down,” Payton admitted. “That’s when the series took a turn.”
Ignore Jordan’s loud laughter. The highlight was his condescending pronunciation of Payton’s nickname, “The Glove”, as he returned the tablet.
However, the cackling was also quite impressive.
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Steve Aschburner has written about the NBA since 1980. You can e-mail him here, find his archive here and follow him on Twitter.
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