'The Last Dance': 5 takeaways from Episodes 7 and 8

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 just a scoop, but rather a deep dive into Jordan’s mindset and motivation. His harsh treatment of his Bulls teammates, exceeding even the intensity of Marine drill instructors towards fresh recruits, was for his own reassurance. He needed to be certain that his team, the Jordanaires, was capable of securing championships.

However, it was also meant for them. In Jordan’s demands, ridicule, and confrontations with his fellow Chicago players, we witnessed some of the harshest forms of “tough love” imaginable.

Finally, we have Jordan pulling back the curtain on it.

“Victory comes with a cost,” Jordan stated in his recent discussions with the documentary team. “So does leadership.”

“Once you became part of the team, you adhered to the specific standard at which I played the game. I wouldn’t settle for anything less.”

When Michael Jordan returned to the Bulls, he gave a straightforward welcome to Bill Wennington, a center who had joined the team during Jordan’s initial retirement. According to Wennington, Jordan told him, “I want you to jump on the cape. But you have to hold on.”

If it entailed physically confronting teammates like Will Perdue and Steve Kerr, verbally attacking Scott Burrell, or even making Dennis Hopson shed tears (which happened in the 1990-91 season but was not included in the documentary), then so be it.

“He couldn’t be a nice guy, given the kind of mentality he had,” said B.J. Armstrong.

Adam Carolla, a popular podcast host, often mentions Jordan, saying that for Jordan it wasn’t about you doing your best, but you doing Jordan’s best. He was very particular in stating that he never demanded anything from a teammate that he wouldn’t do himself.

He got very emotional too.

“Desiring victory, I also wished for their involvement in the win,” said Jordan, his voice growing husky. “Choose not to play that way, if it’s not your preference.”

He paused at that moment and said, “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, when James, Jordan’s father, fell victim to a random roadside murder on a Carolina highway. However, Episode 7 revealed that Michael’s decision to retire was not a direct result of this tragic loss – in fact, he had been considering retirement after the ’93 championship, potentially as early as the autumn of 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 his success in basketball skyrocketed, Jordan had played and adored baseball. He had witnessed exceptional athletes like Bo Jackson and Deion Sanders successfully juggle careers in two sports. However, it was his family’s support for baseball and his father’s advice to pursue what brings him joy that led him to Birmingham, Ala., to play for the Class AA Barons in the Chicago White Sox system, despite skepticism from the sports world.

At his 1993 retirement news conference, held 10 weeks following his father’s murder, Jordan made two remarks that struck a chord. He first stated, “The word ‘retire’ means you can do anything you want.” His second comment was, “He saw my last basketball game.”

The documentary depicted James Jordan, Michael’s father, being a constant presence by his son’s side, acting as a formidable wingman comparable to Scottie Pippen. This was evident right up to the 1996 Finals’ Game 6 against Seattle. Those of us reporting on the championship series, where Chicago initially led 3-0 before losing Games 4 and 5, forcing a return to United Center, retrospectively pondered if an unseen force was crafting poetry. The decisive game took place on Father’s Day, with Jordan and the Bulls securing their first championship without Michael’s father present.

We’ve witnessed NBA stars express their emotions and shed tears when they achieve the pinnacle of victory. Yet, the sight of Jordan weeping on the floor of the trainer’s room, clutching the basketball while attempting to avoid the prying lenses of the cameras, was an entirely different and authentic level of emotion.

3. Pippen’s star turn, minus 1.8 seconds

At the time Jordan was working in Minneapolis, the ironic twist of his first retirement was starkly evident. The Timberwolves, who had been somewhat entertaining yet fundamentally terrible during their initial four years, were finally poised to make their mark on the big league. They were set to host the NBA All-Star Game in February 1994.

And now, it was getting an All-Star Game without Michael Jordan, a daunting prospect.

Of course, that was a narrow-minded perspective. Consider the feelings of Bulls fans when the best player in the game unexpectedly quit while at the height of his career. Both sectors were delightedly taken aback.

Pippen experienced the pinnacle of his career with an outstanding individual season, propelling Chicago to a surprising 55-27 season – a significant achievement, given they had lost Michael Jordan just before training camp. He ranked third in MVP voting, trailing behind Hakeem Olajuwon and David Robinson. He also delighted Twin Cities basketball fans by assuming Jordan’s role as the superstar, clinching the All-Star MVP trophy.

Pippen was not the same type of player as Jordan, and his personality differed as well. His approach resonated with his teammates. However, we have been so focused on Jordan’s aggressive and relentless approach to motivating his teammates, that some of the Bulls seemed somewhat timid for embracing the change.

In any case, the entire dynamic of the team shifted in 1.8 seconds when Pippen declined to participate at the close of the East semifinals series’ Game 3 against New York. Phil Jackson, the coach, had planned the final move for Toni Kukoc to make the last shot, without Pippen even being on the court as a diversion. Instead, he had Pippen, the team’s top passer, throwing in the ball.

After years of playing second fiddle to Jordan and finally ascending the ranks, Pippen felt he was once again relegated to a supporting role with the arrival of rookie Kukoc. Kukoc was the European discovery of GM Jerry Krause, who had already been a thorn in Pippen’s side.

Despite how correct his reasons may seem at this moment, he was entirely mistaken. It was intriguing to watch the ’94 footage on Sunday night and the reactions of different Bulls players as they reflected on their reactions to feeling betrayed by a teammate. Notably, this occurred after Kukoc successfully made the buzzer beater that momentarily held off the Knicks.

“His quitting on us was devastating,” said Steve Kerr.

Bill Cartwright, the center, was so upset when he confronted Pippen in the locker room that he cried.

Pippen immediately apologized and Kerr stated that the team accepted his apology. He played fiercely in the last three games of the series, despite the Bulls’ elimination.

Pippen’s legacy is firmly established. He has been inducted into the Hall of Fame and was recognized as one of the Top 50 players in NBA history in 1997, even though he still had seven seasons left in his career. He is also widely regarded as the most significant second player ever on an NBA team.

Even today, you can find 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 detour to play minor league baseball for a season and may have continued if the sport’s prolonged labor dispute hadn’t stretched into spring 1995.

Jordan’s bat swinging at curveballs was a change from his usual tongue-wagging dunks. However, he seemed to be his usual self throughout, reminding us of that detour and revisiting the footage on Sunday.

However, that was not the case. He had exchanged his basketball-ready physique for one more adapted to baseball. And… was there much talk about it then?

Back in the day, it appeared that the fragment of the season and postseason from March 1995 through the Bulls’ defeat by Orlando was primarily distinguished by Jordan’s striking performances during his comeback. This also included his temporary use of 45 instead of the iconic 23 on his Bulls jersey. However, it turns out that Jordan was not simply rusty or inexperienced, as he seamlessly integrated into the revamped Chicago roster.

Jordan had trained to become a baseball player instead of a basketball player, and 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 the past, I didn’t have sufficient time to condition my body for basketball,” said Jordan.

Without meaning to disrespect young stars like Shaquille O’Neal and Penny Hardaway or ex-Bull player Horace Grant, it would likely be a challenge to get Jordan to admit it.

Tim Grover, the personal trainer of Jordan, and Chip Schaefer of the Bulls supported this explanation. The reflexes, strength, and agility required for one sport considerably differed from the other. It may not have been as obvious as, for instance, transforming Yankees slugger Aaron Judge, who is 6-foot-7 and 280 pounds, into a competent NBA power forward. However, it was indeed a reality.

This section of the document illustrated Jordan embracing his role in “Space Jam” in the summer of 1995, and his determination to get back in shape. He requested that the movie studio build the “Jordan Dome,” a full court and gym, on its premises for his daily two-hour workouts. In the evenings, he directed 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 want to stand a chance against him, don’t do it. Jordan’s tendency to turn perceived insults – whether genuine or imagined – into intense motivation was fully demonstrated on Sunday.

It’s a common saying in sports that players and teams can occasionally tap into their full potential at the right moments, extending their “zone” of intense focus. However, it’s generally considered impossible for them to suddenly unleash their full potential like activating nitrous oxide on a drag strip.

Apparently, except for Jordan. He managed to transform immediate grudges into extraordinary performances and even found ways to create them. At that point, he was like Bruce Banner transforming into full 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.

The kind of things that caused a rift between Isiah Thomas and Jordan were abundant on Sunday. An example was Nick Anderson’s comment after the Magic’s victory in the first game of their ’95 playoff series; he stated, “45 isn’t 23.”

Seattle coach George Karl’s failure to stop by Jordan’s table at the restaurant was a damned-if-he-did, damned-if-he-didn’t situation. Jordan was indifferent whether they were from Carolina or not.

“All I needed was that,” he stated. “It then turned personal for me.”

A recap of Jordan’s previous reaction to a comment from Thomas in the series is revisited as he watches a video on a tablet given to him. This time, Gary Payton is seen expressing his belief that the outcome of the ’96 Finals could have been different if Karl had assigned him 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 battering him affected Mike significantly,” Payton stated. “That’s when the series shifted.”

Pay no attention to Jordan’s cackling. The standout moment was his condescending pronunciation of Payton’s nickname, “The Glove”, as he returned 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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