Here are five key points from the 7th and 8th episodes 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 of a revelation and more of a deep dive into Jordan’s mindset and drive. His tough treatment of his Bulls teammates, exceeding even the intensity of a marine drill instructor with fresh recruits, was a personal endeavor. He needed reassurance that his team, the Jordanaires, had what it took to clinically secure championships.
However, it was also for their benefit. We witnessed some of the harshest instances of “tough love” imaginable in Jordan’s expectations, derision, and encounters with his Chicago teammates.
Finally, we have Jordan pulling back the curtain on it.
“Winning comes with a cost,” Jordan stated in his recent interviews with the documentary team. “So does leadership.”
“Once you became part of the team, you had to live up to the standard I set in the way 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 upon Jordan’s return. Wennington shared that Jordan instructed him, “I want you to jump on the cape. But you have to hold on.”
If that required physically confronting teammates like Will Perdue and Steve Kerr, verbally attacking Scott Burrell, or reducing Dennis Hopson to tears (which actually happened in the 1990-91 season but was not included in the documentary), then it was seen as necessary.
“He couldn’t be a nice guy with the mentality he had,” said B.J. Armstrong.
As podcast king Adam Carolla often says, Jordan’s approach was not about you doing your best, but about you doing his best. He made it clear that he never asked a teammate to do something he himself wouldn’t do.
He got very emotional too.
“Desiring victory, I also wished for their involvement in the triumph,” Jordan declared, his voice growing husky. “If that style of play doesn’t appeal to you, then don’t participate in it.”
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, Michael’s father, was brutally murdered in an arbitrary attack on a Carolina highway. However, Episode 7 revealed that Michael’s decision to retire was not triggered by his father’s tragic demise. In fact, he had been contemplating retirement post the 1993 championship, perhaps even as early as the fall 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
Jordan had a passion for baseball prior to his basketball success skyrocketing. He had witnessed high-performance athletes like Bo Jackson and Deion Sanders successfully juggle two-sport careers. However, it was the support of his family and his father’s advice to pursue what brings him joy that led him to take a leap of faith in the face of a doubtful sports industry. He went to Birmingham, Alabama, to play for the Class AA Barons in the Chicago White Sox system.
At his 1993 retirement press conference, 10 weeks after his father’s murder, Jordan made two comments that struck a chord. He stated, “The word ‘retire’ means you can do anything you want,” as his first comment. His second comment was, “He saw my last basketball game.”
Throughout the documentary, as it oscillated through time, James Jordan played a consistent role as his son’s trusted sidekick, comparable to Scottie Pippen. This was evident all the way to Game 6 of the 1996 Finals against Seattle. Those of us who reported on this series, where Chicago initially held a 3-0 lead but lost Games 4 and 5 forcing a comeback to United Center, retrospectively speculated if some unseen force was crafting a poetic narrative: The decisive game fell on Father’s Day, marking the first championship win for Jordan and the Bulls without the presence of Michael’s father.
We’ve witnessed NBA stars shedding tears and showing emotions when the reality of their championship victory sinks in. However, the sight of Jordan on the floor of the trainer’s room, weeping as he clung to the basketball and attempting to evade the cameras instead of performing for them, was an entirely different level of authenticity.
3. Pippen’s star turn, minus 1.8 seconds
At the time when Jordan first retired, he was working in Minneapolis, where an ironic situation unfolded. The Timberwolves, who had been largely terrible but somewhat amusing in their initial four years, were finally poised to make their mark in the big leagues. They were set to host the 1994 NBA All-Star game in February, which highlighted the cruel irony of Jordan’s sudden retirement.
And now, it was getting an All-Star Game without Michael Jordan, gulp.
Of course, that was a narrow-minded perspective. Consider the feelings of Bulls fans when the greatest player in the game decided to retire while still at his peak. Both communities were pleasantly taken aback.
Pippen experienced the best individual season of his career, guiding Chicago to an unexpected 55-27 season – especially surprising considering they lost Michael Jordan just before training camp. He ranked third in the MVP vote, trailing behind Hakeem Olajuwon and David Robinson. Pippen also catered to the Twin Cities basketball enthusiasts by assuming Jordan’s position as the superstar, even securing the All-Star MVP trophy.
Pippen was not the same as Jordan, both in terms of his playing style and personality. His approach resonated well with his teammates. However, we’ve become so accustomed to Jordan’s aggressive and relentless method of motivating his teammates that some of the Bulls seemed somewhat weak for appreciating the change.
In any case, the entire dynamic of the team shifted in a mere 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 had planned for Toni Kukoc to execute the final shot, without even using Pippen on the court as a distraction. Instead, he had Pippen inbound the ball, despite him being the team’s best passer.
After years of being second to Jordan and finally advancing in rank, Pippen viewed himself as back in a supporting role to the rookie Kukoc. Kukoc was the European discovery of General Manager Jerry Krause, who was already a source of irritation to Pippen.
Despite how valid his reasons may seem now, he was completely mistaken. The 1994 footage and reflections from different Bulls members on the reactions of mature men who felt betrayed by their teammate, shown on Sunday night, was intriguing. Furthermore, this occurred after Kukoc successfully scored the buzzer beater, temporarily holding off the Knicks.
Steve Kerr remarked, “He abandoned us. It was devastating.”
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. Despite the Bulls being eliminated, he displayed ferocity in the last three games of the series.
Pippen’s legacy is firm. 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 seen as the most significant No. 2 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 break to play minor league baseball for a season and could have continued if not for the prolonged labor dispute in the sports industry extending into spring 1995.
Jordan’s bat swinging at curveballs was a change from his usual tongue-wagging dunks, but he still resembled his old self. He reflected on this detour and reviewed the footage on Sunday.
However, he was not. He had exchanged his supreme basketball physique for one more appropriate for baseball, and…was this widely discussed at the time?
Back in the day, the period from March 1995 through the Bulls’ elimination against Orlando seemed significant primarily due to some memorable performances by Jordan during his comeback. He briefly swapped his renowned Bulls jersey number 23 for 45. However, it wasn’t merely rustiness or novelty that characterized Jordan’s sudden re-entry into the revamped Chicago lineup.
Jordan had undergone training to become a baseball player instead of a basketball player. However, he had to physically revert to his previous 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 condition my body for basketball,” said Jordan.
Without meaning to disrespect young Shaquille O’Neal and Penny Hardaway or former Bull Horace Grant, it might be a challenge to get Jordan to express the same sentiment.
Tim Grover, Jordan’s personal trainer, and Chip Schaefer of the Bulls, supported this reasoning. The reflexes, strength, and agility required for one sport were significantly different from the other. It might not have been as obvious as, for example, giving Aaron Judge, the 6-foot-7, 280-pound Yankees hitter, a body fit for an NBA power forward. But, the difference was authentic.
The section of the document portrayed Jordan embracing his role in “Space Jam” in the summer of 1995 and highlighted his determination to reclaim his form. He persuaded the movie studio to build the “Jordan Dome” on its premises, which was a fully-equipped court and gym that he used for two-hour daily workouts. In the evenings, he spearheaded high-level pickup games with NBA talent, simultaneously refining his skills and scrutinizing theirs.
5. Don’t look, talk or even breathe at Jordan
If you hope to stand a chance against him, you better not provoke him. Jordan’s tendency to transform perceived insults – authentic or fabricated – into intense motivation was fully displayed on Sunday.
In sports, it’s often said that players and teams can occasionally tap into their deeper potential, maximize their talents when necessary, and even stretch the boundaries of their “zone” during moments of intense focus. However, it’s generally believed that they can’t simply activate their peak performance like flipping a switch or pressing the nitrous oxide button on a drag strip.
Apparently, Jordan was the exception. He was capable of converting immediate grudges into exceptional performances, and even mastered creating them. This was comparable to Bruce Banner transforming into the Hulk in full force.
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.
Sunday was filled with the kind of drama that once split Isiah Thomas and Jordan. Among the highlights was Nick Anderson’s comment after the Magic’s Game 1 victory in their ’95 playoff series, stating “45 isn’t 23.”
Seattle coach George Karl’s predicament of whether to visit Jordan’s table at the restaurant ended in failure, regardless of the choice he made. Whether they were from Carolina or not was irrelevant to Jordan.
“That’s all I required,” he stated. “And it turned personal for me.”
Finally, we revisit Jordan’s earlier reaction in the series to Thomas’s comment, as he viewed a video on a tablet given to him. On this occasion, it was Gary Payton expressing how the outcome of the ’96 Finals could have been different if Karl had assigned him to defend Jordan before 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
“Repeatedly hitting and pounding him took a toll on Mike,” said Payton. “That’s when the series shifted.”
Ignoring Jordan’s cackling, the standout moment was his condescending tone when he returned the tablet, saying Payton’s nickname, “The Glove”.
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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