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

Here are five key points from episodes 7 and 8 of “The Last Dance,” the documentary series about 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 an exploration into Jordan’s mindset and driving forces. His hard treatment of his Bulls teammates, surpassing even the intensity of Marine drill instructors with new recruits, was partly for his own benefit. He wanted to ensure that his teammates, the Jordanaires, were capable of securing championships.

However, it was also intended for them. We witnessed some of the harshest instances of “tough love” imaginable in Jordan’s expectations, ridicule, and clashes with his fellow Chicago teammates.

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

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

“Once you became a part of the team, you had to live up to the standard at which I played the game. I wasn’t going to accept anything less.”

Bill Wennington, the center who joined the Bulls during Jordan’s first retirement, received a straightforward welcome when Jordan came back. According to Wennington, Jordan instructed him, “I want you to jump on the cape. But you have to hold on.”

If it entailed hitting teammates like Will Perdue and Steve Kerr, verbally attacking Scott Burrell, or even making Dennis Hopson shed tears (which happened in 1990-91 but wasn’t 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.

Adam Carolla, a renowned podcast host, often makes a point about Jordan. He emphasizes that for Jordan, it wasn’t about you giving your best, but rather about you matching his level of performance. He was very particular in ensuring that he never demanded anything of a teammate that he himself didn’t do.

He got very emotional too.

“Desiring a win was my aim, but I also wanted them to share in that victory,” Jordan stated, emotion weighing heavy in his voice. “If you’re against this style of play, then don’t play this way.”

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 bound to revisit the summer of 1993 when James, Jordan’s father, was brutally murdered in an unanticipated roadside attack on a Carolina highway. Episode 7 clarified that Michael’s decision to retire was not triggered by his father’s unfortunate demise. He had been contemplating retirement after the ’93 championship, perhaps even since 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 basketball career took off, Jordan was an avid baseball player. He had watched super-athletes like Bo Jackson and Deion Sanders successfully juggle two-sport careers. However, it was his family’s love for baseball and his father’s advice to pursue what brings him joy that led him to bravely confront a doubtful sports world. This led him to Birmingham, Alabama, to play for the Class AA Barons in the Chicago White Sox system.

At his 1993 retirement press conference, which took place 10 weeks after his father’s murder, Jordan made two impactful comments. The first one was, “The word ‘retire’ means you can do anything you want.” The second was, “He saw my last basketball game.”

As the documentary oscillated between past and present, James Jordan was depicted as a constant figure beside his son, comparable to Scottie Pippen. This was evident right 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 a return to United Center, retrospectively questioned if fate was crafting a poetic narrative. The decisive game occurred on Father’s Day, marking the first championship win for Jordan and the Bulls without Michael’s father present.

We’ve witnessed NBA stars shedding tears and expressing emotions when the reality of championship triumph sinks in. However, Jordan, lying on the trainer’s room floor, weeping as he clutched the basketball and attempting to evade the cameras instead of performing for them, was an entirely different degree of authenticity.

3. Pippen’s star turn, minus 1.8 seconds

Jordan’s first retirement was ironically timed, as he was working in Minneapolis. The Timberwolves, who had a generally terrible performance in their first four years, had amusingly planned to elevate their status by hosting the 1994 NBA All-Star Game in February.

And now, it was facing an All-Star Game without the presence of Michael Jordan, which was a nerve-wracking thought.

Of course, that perspective was narrow-minded. Consider how fans of the Bulls felt when the best player in the game decided to retire while still in his prime. Both fan bases were pleasantly taken aback.

Pippen experienced the peak season of his career, unexpectedly guiding Chicago to a 55-27 season, especially considering they had just lost Michael Jordan right before training camp. He ranked third in the MVP voting, coming after Hakeem Olajuwon and David Robinson. Pippen also catered to the Twin Cities basketball fans by filling Jordan’s shoes as the star player, even winning the All-Star MVP trophy.

Pippen was not the same type of player as Jordan, and his personality was also different. His approach meshed well with his teammates. However, because we’ve become so accustomed to Jordan’s aggressive, relentless way of motivating his teammates, some of the Bulls seemed somewhat soft for appreciating the relief.

The team’s entire dynamic shifted within 1.8 seconds when Pippen declined to participate at the conclusion of the East semifinals series’ Game 3 against New York. Phil Jackson, the coach, had designed a play for Toni Kukoc to make the final shot, with Pippen not even present on the court as a decoy. Instead, Jackson had Pippen, the team’s top passer, inbound the ball.

After spending years in Jordan’s shadow, and then finally rising in rank, Pippen perceived himself as being back in a secondary role to the newly discovered rookie, Kukoc. This European player was the latest find of General Manager Jerry Krause, who was already a source of irritation for Pippen.

Despite his reasons seeming appropriate now, he was completely mistaken. It was interesting to watch the footage from ’94 and the retrospective views from different Bulls members on Sunday night, observing how mature men reacted after feeling deceived by a teammate. And this all happened after Kukoc successfully made the buzzer beater to momentarily hold off the Knicks.

“Steve Kerr said, ‘He quit on 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 the team accepted it. He exhibited fierce gameplay in the last three games of the series, despite the Bulls’ eventual elimination.

Pippen’s legacy is firmly established. He is a Hall of Fame inductee, was selected as one of the Top 50 NBA players in history in 1997 (even though he still had seven seasons left in his career), and is generally acknowledged as the most significant secondary player ever on an NBA team.

Even today, in Chicago, you can find replica jerseys 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 potentially would have continued if it wasn’t for the prolonged labor dispute in that sport that extended into spring of 1995.

Jordan’s bat swinging at curveballs was a change from his usual tongue-wagging on dunks. However, he seemed like his old self, reminiscent of that detour, as he revisited the footage on Sunday.

However, he wasn’t. He had exchanged his globally renowned basketball physique for one more fitting for baseball, and… was there much talk about it back then?

Back in the day, it appeared that the partial season and postseason from March 1995 to the Bulls’ defeat against Orlando was mainly significant for Jordan’s remarkable performances during his comeback. This included his temporary switch from his iconic 23 to 45 on his Bulls jersey. However, it turned out that Jordan was not simply rusty or too new, as he made his sudden return to the rebuilt Chicago lineup.

Jordan had undergone training to become a baseball player instead of a basketball player. He then had to physically 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 return my body to the condition needed for playing basketball,” said Jordan.

Perhaps no offense to young Shaquille O’Neal and Penny Hardaway, or even former Bull Horace Grant, although getting Jordan to say that might be a challenge.

Tim Grover, Jordan’s personal trainer, and Chip Schaefer of the Bulls, supported this explanation. The reflexes, strength, and agility required for one sport significantly differed from the other. It could have been more nuanced than, for instance, turning Yankees’ hitter Aaron Judge, who stands 6-foot-7 and weighs 280 pounds, into an effective NBA power forward. However, it was a genuine difference.

This section of the document displayed Jordan embracing his role in “Space Jam” in the summer of 1995 and his determination to reclaim his form. He had the film studio build the “Jordan Dome,” a full court and gym on its premises for his daily two-hour workouts. In the evenings, he would orchestrate high-level pickup games with NBA players, refining his own skills while also examining theirs.

5. Don’t look, talk or even breathe at Jordan

If you hope to have a chance to defeat him, don’t underestimate Jordan. His tendency to turn perceived or fabricated slights into intense motivation was fully displayed on Sunday.

In sports, it’s often said that players and teams can occasionally tap into a deeper level of their abilities, especially during critical moments, extending their “zone” of focus. However, it’s generally believed that they can’t suddenly enhance their performance dramatically, akin to hitting the nitrous oxide in a drag race.

It seems Jordan was the exception to the rule. Not only did he transform instant animosities into extraordinary performances, but he also figured out how to create them. It was like watching Bruce Banner morph 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.

On Sunday, we saw plenty of tension similar to what had come between Isiah Thomas and Jordan. Notably, there was Nick Anderson’s comment after the Magic’s victory in Game 1 of their 1995 playoff series, where he pointedly said, “45 isn’t 23.”

Seattle coach George Karl’s restaurant failure was a no-win situation; whether he chose to stop by Jordan’s table to pay respects or not. Did Jordan care if they were guys from Carolina? Absolutely not.

“That’s everything I required,” he stated. “It turned into something personal for me.”

Lastly, a repeat of Jordan’s earlier response in the series to a remark from Thomas was shown, as he watched a video on a tablet given to him. This time, it featured Gary Payton expressing his belief that the ’96 Finals could have had a different outcome 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 pounding on Mike really wore him down,” said Payton. “That’s when the series took a turn.”

Ignore Jordan’s cackling. The main event was his condescending pronunciation of Payton’s nickname, “The Glove”, as he returned the tablet.

However, the cackling was also pretty 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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