Here are five key points from episodes 7 and 8 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 an in-depth exploration into Jordan’s mindset and driving force. His tough approach towards his Bulls teammates, harsher than most Marine drill instructors dealing with new recruits, was indeed for his own benefit. He wanted to be certain that his teammates were capable of securing championships.
However, it was also for their benefit. We witnessed some of the most intense “tough love” imaginable in Jordan’s high 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 interactions with the documentary team. “So does leadership.”
“Once you became part of the team, you had to live up to the standard I set as I played the game. I refused to accept anything less.”
Bill Wennington, a center who joined the Bulls during Jordan’s first retirement, received a straightforward greeting when Jordan returned. According to Wennington, Jordan instructed him, “I want you to jump on the cape. But you have to hold on.”
If that meant physically confronting 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.
“He couldn’t be a nice guy, with that kind of mentality he had,” said B.J. Armstrong.
As podcast king Adam Carolla often notes, Jordan’s ethos wasn’t about you striving to do your best, but about you meeting his standards of excellence. He was adamant that he never demanded anything from a teammate that he himself didn’t do.
He got very emotional too.
“Desiring victory, I also wished for them to share in the triumph,” Jordan expressed, his voice heavy with emotion. “If you’re not interested in playing in such a manner, then don’t.”
He paused at that point 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, when Michael Jordan’s father, James, was tragically killed in an arbitrary roadside assault on a Carolina highway. However, Episode 7 revealed that Michael’s decision to retire was not directly influenced by his father’s unfortunate demise. In fact, he was contemplating retirement after the 1993 championship, potentially 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
Before his basketball career took off, Jordan had enjoyed playing baseball. He had observed multi-talented athletes like Bo Jackson and Deion Sanders manage two-sport careers quite successfully. However, his family’s support for baseball and his father’s advice to pursue what brings him joy led him to bravely face a doubtful sports world. He went down to Birmingham, Alabama, to play for the Class AA Barons in the Chicago White Sox system.
At his 1993 retirement news conference, held 10 weeks following his father’s murder, Jordan made two comments that had strong impact. His first statement was, “The word ‘retire’ means you can do anything you want.” He later said, “He saw my last basketball game.”
The documentary transitioned back and forth through time, illustrating James Jordan’s constant presence beside his son, almost rivaling Scottie Pippen as a wingman. This was evident up until Game 6 of the 1996 Finals against Seattle. Those of us who reported on that championship series, where Chicago initially had a 3-0 lead but lost Games 4 and 5, forcing a return to the United Center, retrospectively speculated if a hidden influence was crafting a poetic narrative. The decisive game took place on Father’s Day, marking the first championship won by Jordan and the Bulls without Michael’s father in attendance.
We’ve witnessed NBA stars shedding tears and displaying strong emotions when they experience the pinnacle of victory, the championship win. However, Jordan’s reaction, sitting on the floor of the trainer’s room, crying while clutching the basketball and attempting to avoid the cameras instead of playing up to them, was a completely 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 and the cruel irony was immediately evident: The Timberwolves, who had been largely terrible but oddly entertaining in their first four years of existence, were finally about to hit the big leagues by hosting the 1994 NBA All-Star Game in February.
And now, it was about to host an All-Star Game without the presence of Michael Jordan, which was a bit nerve-wracking.
Of course, that was a narrow-minded perspective. Picture the reaction of Bulls fans when the game’s top player decided to quit while at the height of his career. Both groups were pleasantly taken aback.
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 right before training camp. He secured the third position in MVP voting, trailing behind Hakeem Olajuwon and David Robinson. He also catered to the Twin Cities basketball fans by filling Jordan’s shoes as the lead star, earning himself the All-Star MVP trophy.
Pippen was a different sort of player from Jordan, possessing a distinct personality that resonated with his teammates. However, we’ve been so preoccupied with Jordan’s relentless, assertive, and obsessive approach to pushing his colleagues that some of those Bulls seemed somewhat, perhaps, soft for appreciating the departure.
In any case, the entire dynamic of the team was altered in a matter of 1.8 seconds when Pippen declined to participate at the conclusion of Game 3 of the East semifinals series against New York. Coach Phil Jackson had designed the play for Toni Kukoc to make the final shot, with Pippen not even being on the court as a distraction. Instead, he had Pippen — the team’s top passer — throw in the ball.
After years of trailing behind Jordan and eventually rising in the ranks, Pippen believed he was once again relegated to a supporting position to Kukoc, the rookie discovered by GM Jerry Krause in Europe. This was already a source of annoyance for Pippen.
Despite his reasons seeming valid now, he was completely mistaken. It was intriguing to observe both the footage from ’94 and the reflections from different Bulls players on how adults reacted after feeling betrayed by a teammate. This was all after Kukoc managed to score the buzzer beater to momentarily hold off the Knicks.
Steve Kerr said, “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 confirmed the team’s acceptance of his apology. He demonstrated ferocity in the last three games of the series, despite the Bulls’ eventual 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 with seven more seasons of his career remaining. He is also widely acknowledged as the most significant second-best player on any NBA team.
Even today, in Chicago, you can find replica jerseys that instead of bearing his usual number 33, display “Pippen 1.8”.
4. Comparing Jordan’s ‘bodies’ of work
The top player in the NBA left to play minor league baseball for a season and might have continued if it weren’t for the prolonged labor dispute in that sport, which extended into the spring of 1995.
Jordan having his bat swinging at curveballs was a change from his usual tongue wagging on dunks. However, he appeared to be his usual self, reminding of that detour and watching the footage again on Sunday.
However, that wasn’t the case. He had exchanged his well-adapted basketball physique for one more appropriate for baseball. And… was there much talk about this during that period?
Back in the day, it appeared that the brief period from March 1995 to the Bulls’ loss against Orlando was mostly memorable for Jordan’s impressive performances during his return. His temporary switch from his renowned 23 to 45 on his Bulls jersey was also noteworthy. As it turns out, Jordan’s occasional rustiness or unfamiliarity wasn’t the only significant aspect of his sudden re-entry to the reshuffled Chicago roster.
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 recondition my body for basketball,” said Jordan.
Without meaning to disrespect young Shaquille O’Neal and Penny Hardaway or ex-Bull Horace Grant, it would still be a challenge to get Jordan to admit that.
Tim Grover, Jordan’s personal trainer, and Chip Schaefer of the Bulls confirmed the explanation. The reflexes, strength, and agility required for one sport were significantly different from the other. The difference might have been more nuanced than, for example, turning 6-foot-7, 280-pound Yankees slugger Aaron Judge into a competent NBA power forward. But the difference was tangible.
This segment of the document portrayed Jordan stepping into his role in “Space Jam” in the summer of 1995, demonstrating his determination to recover his prowess. He commissioned the film studio to build the “Jordan Dome” on their property, a complete court and gym for his daily two-hour training sessions. In the evenings, he organized high-level pickup games with NBA players, both refining his own skills and scrutinizing theirs.
5. Don’t look, talk or even breathe at Jordan
You won’t stand a chance at beating him if you do. Jordan’s habit of turning perceived insults – whether genuine or fabricated – into intense motivation was on full display this Sunday.
It’s often said in sports that players and teams can occasionally tap into their hidden potential, exploit their talents at the right moments, and sometimes extend their focus beyond the usual limits. However, they’re not expected to have the ability to suddenly boost their performance, similar to activating nitrous oxide on a drag strip.
Apparently, Jordan was the exception. He transformed immediate resentments into extraordinary performances and even concocted methods to evoke them. It was akin to Bruce Banner morphing 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.
Sunday saw a lot of the kind of drama that once caused a rift between Isiah Thomas and Jordan. An example would be Nick Anderson’s postgame comment following the Magic’s Game 1 victory in their ’95 playoff series, when he said, “45 isn’t 23.”
The failure of Seattle coach George Karl to stop by Jordan’s table at a restaurant was a damned-if-he-did, damned-if-he-didn’t situation. Jordan didn’t care whether they were from Carolina or not.
“That’s all I required,” he stated. “It then became personal to me.”
Lastly, the series revisits Jordan’s earlier reaction to a comment by Thomas, which he watched on a tablet given to him. This time, it was Gary Payton expressing his belief that the outcome of the ’96 Finals could have been different if Karl had chosen 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
“I relentlessly struck and pounded him, which significantly affected Mike,” 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 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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