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 really a revelation but rather a deep dive into Jordan’s mindset and drive. When he pushed his Bulls teammates harder than many Marine drill instructors would with new recruits, it was, of course, for his own sake. He needed to be certain that his team, the Jordanaires, were capable of securing championships.
However, it was also intended for them. We witnessed some of the harshest examples of “tough love” imaginable in Jordan’s expectations, ridicule, and conflicts with his fellow Chicago teammates.
Finally, we have Jordan pulling back the curtain on it.
“Winning and leadership both have a price,” Jordan stated recently to the documentary crew.
“Once you become part of the team, you lived up to the standard I set while playing the game. I wasn’t willing to accept anything less than that.”
Bill Wennington, a center who joined the Bulls during Jordan’s first retirement, received a straightforward welcome when the team leader came back. Wennington shared that Jordan told him, “I want you to jump on the cape. But you have to hold on.”
If that involved physically assaulting teammates like Will Perdue and Steve Kerr, verbally attacking Scott Burrell, or reducing Dennis Hopson to tears (an incident from 1990-91 not featured in the documentary), then so be it.
“B.J. Armstrong stated, “He couldn’t be a nice guy with that kind of mentality he had.”
Adam Carolla, the king of podcasting, often points out about Jordan – it wasn’t about you striving for your personal best, it was about meeting his high standards. He was very clear that he never demanded anything from a teammate that he didn’t do himself.
He got very emotional too.
“Desiring victory, I also wanted them to share in the triumph,” Jordan voiced, his tone growing heavy. “If you’re not interested in playing that way, then don’t.”
He paused at that point, saying, “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 arbitrary attack on a Carolina highway. However, Episode 7 clarified that Michael’s decision to retire was not triggered by this tragic loss. He had been considering ending his career after winning the ’93 title, possibly even as early as fall 1992.
His venture into baseball was primarily 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 had a passion for baseball. He had observed how athletes like Bo Jackson and Deion Sanders had successfully managed careers in two sports. However, it was his family’s love for baseball and his father’s advice to pursue what brings him joy that led him to take a bold step. Despite the skepticism of the sports world, he went to Birmingham, Ala., to play for the Class AA Barons in the Chicago White Sox system.
At his 1993 retirement press conference, 10 weeks following his father’s murder, Jordan made two comments that had a significant impact. The first was his interpretation of retirement, stating, “The word ‘retire’ means you can do anything you want.” The second was an emotional reference to his late father: “He saw my last basketball game.”
The documentary shifted between timelines, consistently highlighting James Jordan’s presence alongside his son, a confidant rivaling that of Scottie Pippen, even until Game 6 of the 1996 Finals against Seattle. Those of us who reported on the championship series, where Chicago initially led 3-0 before losing Games 4 and 5, prompting a return to the United Center, retrospectively questioned if there was some unseen force crafting a poetic narrative. The decisive match took place on Father’s Day, marking the first time Jordan and the Bulls won a title without Michael’s father present.
We’ve witnessed NBA stars shedding tears and expressing emotions when they achieve victory in the championship. However, seeing Jordan on the floor of the trainer’s room, crying while embracing the basketball, and trying to avoid 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 retired for the first time, he was working in Minneapolis where the irony of his retirement was cruelly immediate. The Timberwolves, a team which had been somewhat amusing yet essentially terrible during their first four years, were finally about to make their mark. They were set to host the 1994 NBA All-Star Game in February, stepping up to the big leagues for the first time.
And now, it was getting an All-Star Game without Michael Jordan, which was quite a gulp.
Of course, that perspective was somewhat narrow-minded. Think about the reaction of Bulls fans when the best player in the game retired while still in his peak years. Both sectors were delightfully taken aback.
Pippen experienced the best individual season in his career, guiding Chicago to an unexpected 55-27 season – particularly noteworthy since they had just lost Michael Jordan right before the start of training camp. He ranked third in the MVP voting, coming after Hakeem Olajuwon and David Robinson. Pippen also pleased the basketball fans of Twin Cities by filling Jordan’s shoes as the superstar, earning himself the All-Star MVP award.
Pippen was not the same as Jordan, either in his play or personality. His approach resonated well with his teammates. However, we’ve been so focused on Jordan’s aggressive, relentless method of motivating his teammates that some of those Bulls seemed slightly (dare we suggest) weak for appreciating the respite.
The entire team dynamic shifted in a mere 1.8 seconds when Pippen refused to play at the end of Game 3 of the East semifinals series against New York. Coach Phil Jackson had planned the play for Toni Kukoc to take the final shot, and Pippen wasn’t even on the court as a distraction. Instead, Pippen – the team’s top passer – was assigned to inbound the ball.
After being second to Jordan for years and finally rising up in the ranks, Pippen found himself back in a supporting role to the rookie Kukoc, as he saw it. Kukoc was the European discovery of GM Jerry Krause, who was already an annoyance to Pippen.
Despite his reasons seeming correct now, he was utterly mistaken. It was intriguing to witness the footage from ’94 and the recollections from various Bulls players about how adult men reacted to the betrayal by a teammate, on a Sunday night. This happened after Kukoc had successfully scored a buzzer beater, temporarily holding 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 shed tears.
Pippen immediately apologized and Kerr confirmed that the team accepted it. Despite showing ferocity in the final three games of the series, the Bulls were eventually eliminated.
Pippen’s legacy is firmly established. He has been inducted into the Hall of Fame, was listed among the Top 50 players in NBA history in 1997 (even though he had another seven seasons to go), and is often recognized as the most significant secondary player in an NBA team’s history.
Even today, you can find replica jerseys in Chicago that, instead of bearing his usual number 33, display “Pippen 1.8.”
4. Comparing Jordan’s ‘bodies’ of work
The best player in the NBA left to play minor league baseball for a season and could have continued if it wasn’t for the lengthy labor dispute in the sport that extended into spring 1995.
Jordan having his bat swinging at curveballs was a change from his usual tongue-out dunking style. However, he still resembled his old self, reminding us of that detour and re-watching the footage on Sunday.
However, that wasn’t the case. He had exchanged his basketball-suited physique for one more apt for baseball, and… was there much talk about that back then?
Back in the day, it appeared that the brief period from March 1995 till the Bulls’ defeat against Orlando was mainly remarkable for Jordan’s outstanding performances during his comeback. Notably, he donned the number 45 instead of his iconic 23 on his Bulls jersey for a short time. However, it turned out that Jordan’s return wasn’t merely a comeback of a rusty or new player. He made a significant impact on the reshaped Chicago team.
Jordan had trained to become a baseball player instead of a basketball player, but he then had to physically revert back 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 regain my basketball physique,” said Jordan.
Perhaps no offense is intended to the young Shaquille O’Neal and Penny Hardaway or the former Bull, Horace Grant, though convincing Jordan to voice 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 may not have been as noticeable as, for instance, transforming Yankees hitter Aaron Judge, who stands 6-foot-7 and weighs 280 pounds, into a competent NBA power forward. However, it was a genuine difference.
This document segment depicted Jordan assuming his part in “Space Jam” in the summer of 1995 and his sheer determination to recapture his form. He had the movie studio build the “Jordan Dome,” a fully-equipped court and gym on its premises for his daily two-hour workouts. Then in the evenings, he would spearhead high-level pickup games with NBA players, simultaneously refining his own skills and closely observing theirs.
5. Don’t look, talk or even breathe at Jordan
If you wish to stand a chance against him, then no. Jordan’s habit of turning perceived or fabricated insults into intense motivation was fully exhibited on Sunday.
In sports, we often hear about players and teams supposedly being able to occasionally unlock greater depths of their abilities at crucial times, and even extend their periods of exceptional focus known as “the zone”. However, they are not expected to be able to instantly enhance their performance like flipping a switch or activating nitrous oxide on a drag strip.
Apparently, Jordan was the exception. He had the unique ability to transform immediate resentments into exceptional performances, and even managed to create them. At this juncture, he was akin to Bruce Banner transforming fully 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 incidents that stirred up conflict between Isiah Thomas and Jordan were abundant on Sunday. One notable instance was Nick Anderson’s comment after the Magic’s victory in Game 1 of their ’95 playoff series, stating, “45 isn’t 23.”
Seattle coach George Karl was in a lose-lose situation with his unsuccessful attempt to stop by Jordan’s table at the restaurant to show respect. Whether they were from Carolina or not, it was irrelevant to Jordan.
“That’s everything I required,” he stated. “It then turned personal for me.”
Lastly, the series revisits Jordan’s earlier reaction to a comment from Thomas, as he watches a video on a tablet given to him. This time around, it’s Gary Payton speculating that the ’96 Finals could have had a different outcome 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
“Continuously striking and battering him really wore Mike down,” admitted Payton. “That’s when the series took a turn.”
Disregard Jordan’s loud laughter. The real standout moment was his condescending way of saying Payton’s nickname, “The Glove”, while returning the tablet.
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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