Here are five key points from episodes 7 and 8 of “The Last Dance,” a documentary series about Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls’ championship season in 1997-98:
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1. So that’s why he was a jerk
This wasn’t so much a revelation as it was a deep dive into Jordan’s mindset and drive. When he pushed his Bulls teammates beyond the limits, akin to a Marine drill sergeant training new recruits, it was partially for his own benefit. He needed assurance that his team, the Jordanaires, were capable of securing championships.
However, it was also for their benefit. We witnessed some of the most intense examples of “tough love” imaginable in Jordan’s expectations, ridicule, and confrontations with his fellow Chicago players.
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. “Leadership also comes with a cost.”
“Once you became a part of the team, you lived up to the standard I set while playing the game. I wouldn’t accept anything less.”
When Bill Wennington, a center who joined the Bulls during Jordan’s first retirement, met the returning boss, he was greeted in a straightforward manner. Wennington shared that Jordan told him, “I want you to jump on the cape. But you have to hold on.”
If that entailed physically confronting teammates like Will Perdue and Steve Kerr, verbally assaulting Scott Burrell, or even causing Dennis Hopson to shed tears (an incident from 1990-91 not covered in the doc), then so be it.
“B.J. Armstrong stated, “His mentality made it impossible for him to be a nice guy.”
As podcast king Adam Carolla often mentions, with Jordan, the expectation wasn’t about you doing your best, but rather, you doing his best. He made it clear that he never demanded anything from a teammate that he himself didn’t do.
He got very emotional too.
“I desired victory, but I also yearned for their involvement in that success,” voiced Jordan, his tone growing intense. “If that’s not your preferred style of play, then don’t play that way.”
He paused at that moment and declared, “Break,” effectively calling his own “cut” to the scene.
2. James Jordan never left his side
We were bound to revisit the summer of 1993, marked by the tragic, random murder of James Jordan, Michael’s father, on a Carolina highway. However, Episode 7 revealed that Michael’s decision to retire wasn’t solely because of his father’s untimely demise. He had already been contemplating retirement after the 1993 championship, potentially as early as fall 1992.
His venture into baseball was largely inspired by his father.
Michael's No. 1 fan from the beginning.#TheLastDance pic.twitter.com/nW4YeC1p7Y
— Chicago Bulls (@chicagobulls) May 11, 2020
Before Jordan’s basketball career took off, he had already played and adored baseball. He had observed extreme athletes like Bo Jackson and Deion Sanders handle their dual-sport careers quite well. However, it was his family’s support for baseball and his father’s advice to pursue what brings him joy that led him on a journey to Birmingham, Alabama. There, despite skepticism from the sports world, he joined the Class AA Barons in the Chicago White Sox system.
At his 1993 retirement press conference, which took place 10 weeks following his father’s murder, Jordan made two impactful comments. One was, “The word ‘retire’ means you can do anything you want.” and the other was, “He saw my last basketball game.”
In the documentary, James Jordan’s presence was noticeably at his son’s side, much like Scottie Pippen. This was evident even up to Game 6 of the 1996 Finals against Seattle. As the documentary moved back and forth in time, those of us reporting the championship series, where Chicago initially held a 3-0 lead, only to lose Games 4 and 5, leading to a decisive match at the United Center, pondered retrospectively whether there was some unseen force penning a poem. The deciding game fell on Father’s Day, with Jordan and the Bulls winning their first title without Michael’s dad present.
We’ve witnessed NBA stars shedding tears and showing deep emotion when the reality of their championship victory sinks in. However, Jordan, lying on the trainer’s room floor, weeping while clutching the basketball and attempting to hide from the cameras instead of playing up to them, was an entirely distinct level of authenticity.
3. Pippen’s star turn, minus 1.8 seconds
At the time Jordan was working in Minneapolis, the harsh irony of his first retirement was instantly apparent. The Timberwolves, who were amusing yet fundamentally terrible for their initial four years, were finally preparing to enter the big leagues by hosting the 1994 NBA All-Star Game in February.
And now, it was getting an All-Star Game without Michael Jordan (gulp).
Of course, that perspective was quite narrow-minded. Consider the shock of Bulls fans when the game’s top player decided to quit while still at the peak of his career. However, both markets were pleasantly caught off guard.
Pippen experienced the best individual season of his career, guiding Chicago to an unexpected 55-27 season – let’s not forget, they lost Michael Jordan just before training camp started. He ranked third in MVP voting, following Hakeem Olajuwon and David Robinson. Additionally, he catered to Twin Cities basketball fans by filling Jordan’s shoes as the superstar, even earning the All-Star MVP trophy.
Pippen was not the same as Jordan, displaying a different personality that his teammates appreciated. However, we’ve become so accustomed to Jordan’s aggressive, demanding, and obsessive method of motivating his teammates that when some of the Bulls seemed relieved by the change, it could almost be considered (dare we say) soft.
The entire dynamic of the team shifted in just 1.8 seconds when Pippen declined to participate at the conclusion of Game 3 in the East semifinals series against New York. The plan for the last shot had been drawn up by Coach Phil Jackson for Toni Kukoc, with Pippen, not even acting as a decoy on the court. Instead, Pippen – the team’s top passer – was assigned to inbound the ball.
After years of playing second fiddle to Jordan and eventually rising in rank, Pippen perceived himself to be once again relegated to a supporting position, this time to rookie Kukoc. Kukoc was the European discovery of General Manager Jerry Krause, who had already been a thorn in Pippen’s side.
Despite his seemingly valid reasons, he was completely mistaken. It was intriguing to watch both the footage from ’94 and the reflections of different Bulls players on Sunday night, observing how mature adults reacted after a betrayal within their ranks. This was notably after Kukoc had successfully made the buzzer-beating shot, temporarily holding off the Knicks.
“His quitting was devastating,” said Steve Kerr. “He left us.”
Bill Cartwright, the center, was so upset when he confronted Pippen in the locker room that he cried.
Pippen immediately apologized, and according to Kerr, the team accepted it. He played fiercely in the last three games of the series, despite the Bulls being knocked out.
Pippen’s legacy is firmly established. Being a Hall of Fame inductee, named as one of the Top 50 players in NBA history in 1997 (even though he had seven more seasons to play), and often regarded as the most significant No. 2 player on any NBA team, solidifies his standing.
Even now, there are replica jerseys in Chicago that display “Pippen 1.8” instead of his usual number 33.
4. Comparing Jordan’s ‘bodies’ of work
The NBA’s top player took a break to play minor league baseball for a season and might have continued, had the sport’s labor disagreements not extended into the spring of 1995.
Jordan sporting a different look, swinging his bat at curveballs instead of his tongue wagging during dunks, was quite a sight. However, he maintained his familiar flair, reminiscing about that detour and reviewing the footage on Sunday.
However, he wasn’t. He had exchanged his superb basketball physique for one more tailored to baseball, and… was there much talk about that back then?
Back then, it appeared that the short season and postseason from March 1995 until the Bulls’ elimination against Orlando were mainly notable for some notable performances by Jordan in his comeback. This included his temporary switch to jersey number 45 instead of his legendary 23. However, Jordan wasn’t just rusty or too unfamiliar, but actually made a significant impact on the restructured Chicago team.
Jordan had undergone training to become a baseball player instead of a basketball player. However, he had to physically revert back to his original form.
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 transform my body back into a basketball shape,” said Jordan.
With no disrespect meant to young Shaquille O’Neal and Penny Hardaway or ex-Bull Horace Grant, it may be challenging to get Jordan to voice that sentiment.
Tim Grover, Jordan’s personal trainer, and the Bulls’ Chip Schaefer supported this explanation. The reflexes, strength, and agility required for one sport were considerably different from the other. It might not have been as noticeable as turning Yankees’ hitter Aaron Judge, who stands at 6-foot-7 and weighs 280 pounds, into a competent NBA power forward. However, the difference was genuine.
This segment of the document portrayed Jordan embracing his role in “Space Jam” in the summer of 1995, and his determination to get back into shape. He persuaded the film studio to build the “Jordan Dome,” a full-fledged court and gym on its premises for his daily two-hour workouts. In the evenings, he orchestrated high-level pickup games with NBA players, simultaneously refining his skills and assessing theirs.
5. Don’t look, talk or even breathe at Jordan
If you aim to have a chance at defeating him, then not. Jordan’s knack for transforming perceived or fabricated insults into intense motivation was fully demonstrated on Sunday.
In sports, it’s often mentioned that players and teams can potentially tap into their full potential, harness their talent more effectively or extend their ‘zone’ during certain moments of intense focus. However, what they aren’t expected to do is suddenly enhance their performance significantly, similar to accelerating rapidly using nitrous oxide on a drag strip.
Apparently, Jordan was the exception. He didn’t just transform immediate grudges into extraordinary performances, he also discovered how to create them. In doing so, he was like Bruce Banner morphing into the Hulk.
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.
The type of behavior that caused a rift between Isiah Thomas and Jordan was abundantly evident on Sunday. One instance was Nick Anderson’s comment after the Magic’s victory in Game 1 of their ’95 playoff series, saying “45 isn’t 23.”
Seattle’s coach, George Karl, was in a no-win situation with his failed attempt to stop by Jordan’s table at the restaurant and show respect. Whether they were from Carolina or not, it didn’t make a difference to Jordan.
“That’s all I required,” he stated. “It then became personal for me.”
Finally, the series revisits Jordan’s earlier reaction to a comment made by Thomas, this time while watching a video handed to him on a tablet. In this instance, it was Gary Payton speculating about how the outcome of the ’96 Finals could have been different if Karl had used Payton to defend 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
“I repeatedly hit and banged him. It significantly affected Mike,” said Payton. “Following that, the series took a different turn.”
The highlight was not Jordan’s cackling, but rather his patronizing pronunciation of Payton’s nickname, “The Glove”, as he handed back the tablet.
However, the cackling was also quite good.
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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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