nix
Dec 13, 1999, 10:37 PM
by J.A. Adande
All right, what kids do you think will be the envy of
their friends at school Monday: The ones who sat on Santa's lap at
the local mall or the ones who caught a glimpse of Michael Jordan at
the Beverly Center Sunday?
It's at that point, you realize. Jordan's almost a year into
retirement, and he still has a higher Q rating than St. Nick.
Jordan rolled through a couple of sports apparel stores Sunday. Just
checking to see how the latest edition of his Air Jordan shoes areselling.
Except with Jordan it's never as simple as a weekend stroll through
the mall. He had a small pack of Nike folks, three security guards, a
representative from his agency, his personal trainer and a good buddyin tow.
There wasn't a mad rush of people trampling each other to get to him.
Instead it was a gradual movement of people slowly moving toward
Jordan, their eyes transfixed as they blindly stepped forward -- kind
of like the people looking at the giant UFO in "Close Encounters."
If we remain transfixed by Jordan, perhaps it's because of the
retrospective state we're in as the end of the century draws closer.
Among Jordan's few peers in stature, Babe Ruth is long gone and
Muhammad Ali's Parkinson's Syndrome has drained him of the bombastic
charisma that was so closely tied to his image.
Jordan remains preserved and intact. He's like a living museum piece.
He might not be the greatest athlete of the 20th century, but he is
the definitive 20th century athlete. He embodies physical grace,
savvy and mass appeal.
Jordan had an abundance of talent and a sharp mind. He benefited from
integration and technological advances, using all of the
opportunities and tools at his disposal to reach the heights of his
sport and achieve global fame and wealth.
His rise to prominence coincided with the advent of cable and
satellite television, making it possible to watch every one of his
games from anywhere in the country by the end of his career.
And he always gave us good reason to tune in. Talk about must-see TV.
Watching Jordan go for 30-plus began to feel like a constitutionalright.
In a sense, Jordan had to play in this era, because to come along
before television would have diminished his impact. Think about how
many conversations you've had that began with, "Did you see what
Jordan did last night?"
That's what we'll take away from his career. It was a shared
experience -- and a replayed experience, with the highlights shown
over and over again. There's no way of objectively determining the
measure of Jordan's greatness. He didn't score the most points or win
the most championships, so it has to be a collective agreement. The
best rationalization I've heard came from Quinn Buckner.
"I played with Larry Bird," Buckner said. "If he says Michael's the
best, then he's the best."
There's a rush to nominate the greatest this or that of the century,
and Jordan still has a shot at the No. 1 spot on ESPN's 50 greatest
list. Yet the prospect makes him uncomfortable.
"I just hope it's not me," Jordan said. "Put it that way."
He wouldn't pick one, but it's doubtful he would disagree with the
choice of Ali. Jordan once said of him: "We are fingers, and he
certainly is a hand."
Jordan recognizes the debt he owes to Ali, but somehow it seems as if
he can't quite comprehend the magnitude of his impact on sports and
society. It's almost as if he's afraid to.
"I'm only 36 years old." Jordan said. "I've got a lot of time left to
sit back and reflect."
He's much more quick to discuss current topics. He talked NFL
football with a security guard in the freight elevator. On the way to
his car he offered his observation that the Los Angeles Lakers look
pretty good under coach Phil Jackson and had some of the same advice
as any other fan: "Tell Shaq to hit his free throws."
Jordan said he didn't plan to get in any practice runs with the
Lakers while in town."What for?" he said.
Well, for one thing, they might learn something.
"Phil can teach them more than I can," Jordan said.
With that, he climbed into his car, talked products with a couple of
the Nike representatives and was gone.
His stays always seem brief. He played 930 NBA regular-season games,
plus 179 more in the playoffs, and it didn't seem like enough.
He isn't a recluse, yet he isn't a man of the people, either. He gets
close enough to touch, yet somehow remains out of reach. He's
elusive, always on the move.
We think we know him because we see him on TV, but we really don't.
Michelle Dubuclet, a saleswoman at Champs Sports in the Beverly
Center, was surprised at how tall he looked when he walked in thestore.
Most people are accustomed to seeing him surrounded by tall players
on the court. At 6-foot-6, he usually towers above everyone else in
the room when he's away from the NBA scene.
Dubuclet showed him around the store and answered his questions.
"He was just an ordinary guy," she said. "It's just that he'sfamous."
Famous because he played basketball. Famous because we all wanted to
watch him do it.
All right, what kids do you think will be the envy of
their friends at school Monday: The ones who sat on Santa's lap at
the local mall or the ones who caught a glimpse of Michael Jordan at
the Beverly Center Sunday?
It's at that point, you realize. Jordan's almost a year into
retirement, and he still has a higher Q rating than St. Nick.
Jordan rolled through a couple of sports apparel stores Sunday. Just
checking to see how the latest edition of his Air Jordan shoes areselling.
Except with Jordan it's never as simple as a weekend stroll through
the mall. He had a small pack of Nike folks, three security guards, a
representative from his agency, his personal trainer and a good buddyin tow.
There wasn't a mad rush of people trampling each other to get to him.
Instead it was a gradual movement of people slowly moving toward
Jordan, their eyes transfixed as they blindly stepped forward -- kind
of like the people looking at the giant UFO in "Close Encounters."
If we remain transfixed by Jordan, perhaps it's because of the
retrospective state we're in as the end of the century draws closer.
Among Jordan's few peers in stature, Babe Ruth is long gone and
Muhammad Ali's Parkinson's Syndrome has drained him of the bombastic
charisma that was so closely tied to his image.
Jordan remains preserved and intact. He's like a living museum piece.
He might not be the greatest athlete of the 20th century, but he is
the definitive 20th century athlete. He embodies physical grace,
savvy and mass appeal.
Jordan had an abundance of talent and a sharp mind. He benefited from
integration and technological advances, using all of the
opportunities and tools at his disposal to reach the heights of his
sport and achieve global fame and wealth.
His rise to prominence coincided with the advent of cable and
satellite television, making it possible to watch every one of his
games from anywhere in the country by the end of his career.
And he always gave us good reason to tune in. Talk about must-see TV.
Watching Jordan go for 30-plus began to feel like a constitutionalright.
In a sense, Jordan had to play in this era, because to come along
before television would have diminished his impact. Think about how
many conversations you've had that began with, "Did you see what
Jordan did last night?"
That's what we'll take away from his career. It was a shared
experience -- and a replayed experience, with the highlights shown
over and over again. There's no way of objectively determining the
measure of Jordan's greatness. He didn't score the most points or win
the most championships, so it has to be a collective agreement. The
best rationalization I've heard came from Quinn Buckner.
"I played with Larry Bird," Buckner said. "If he says Michael's the
best, then he's the best."
There's a rush to nominate the greatest this or that of the century,
and Jordan still has a shot at the No. 1 spot on ESPN's 50 greatest
list. Yet the prospect makes him uncomfortable.
"I just hope it's not me," Jordan said. "Put it that way."
He wouldn't pick one, but it's doubtful he would disagree with the
choice of Ali. Jordan once said of him: "We are fingers, and he
certainly is a hand."
Jordan recognizes the debt he owes to Ali, but somehow it seems as if
he can't quite comprehend the magnitude of his impact on sports and
society. It's almost as if he's afraid to.
"I'm only 36 years old." Jordan said. "I've got a lot of time left to
sit back and reflect."
He's much more quick to discuss current topics. He talked NFL
football with a security guard in the freight elevator. On the way to
his car he offered his observation that the Los Angeles Lakers look
pretty good under coach Phil Jackson and had some of the same advice
as any other fan: "Tell Shaq to hit his free throws."
Jordan said he didn't plan to get in any practice runs with the
Lakers while in town."What for?" he said.
Well, for one thing, they might learn something.
"Phil can teach them more than I can," Jordan said.
With that, he climbed into his car, talked products with a couple of
the Nike representatives and was gone.
His stays always seem brief. He played 930 NBA regular-season games,
plus 179 more in the playoffs, and it didn't seem like enough.
He isn't a recluse, yet he isn't a man of the people, either. He gets
close enough to touch, yet somehow remains out of reach. He's
elusive, always on the move.
We think we know him because we see him on TV, but we really don't.
Michelle Dubuclet, a saleswoman at Champs Sports in the Beverly
Center, was surprised at how tall he looked when he walked in thestore.
Most people are accustomed to seeing him surrounded by tall players
on the court. At 6-foot-6, he usually towers above everyone else in
the room when he's away from the NBA scene.
Dubuclet showed him around the store and answered his questions.
"He was just an ordinary guy," she said. "It's just that he'sfamous."
Famous because he played basketball. Famous because we all wanted to
watch him do it.