During the 1991 Eastern Conference Finals, soon-to-be New York Knicks head coach Pat Riley sat down with Michael Jordan for what resulted in one of the most revealing interviews of His Airness’ career.
Think of your hero. It could be your parents, grandparents, siblings, friends or whoever. It could be an athlete. It could be an entertainer. It doesn’t matter. We love heroes because we remember them at their strongest. They fit the mold of a larger than life figure, a security blanket and an example of everything right in the world. The funny thing about heroes though? They’re regular people and there was once a time they felt the same insecurities and pressures like you or me.
Before Barack Obama became leader of the free world, imagine the nervousness he had when taking Michelle out the first time. Damn any campaign he’ll be on between now and November, he was probably more worried about not saying the wrong thing about her outfit. You want a hilarious and humanizing story? Ask your parents or grandparents how they met. Lance Armstrong probably fell off a bike more times than he cares to remember. The lesson is this – heroes never know they’ll become heroes.
In 2012, Michael Jordan the basketball player is everything. Mike is the definition of winning to a generation who never saw Bill Russell. He’s the epitome of leadership. He was above and beyond the most popular athlete in the world for close to a decade and still stands as the most recognizable with respect to Muhammad Ali. Michael Jordan – in terms of miracles on a basketball court – is and probably will always be the closest thing to God to millions. That’s just it though. A large percentage of Jordan worshippers remember the six titles, the Finals MVP’s, the “flu game” or the “last shot.” For as important as those are to his legacy, it’s unfair to simply classify him as just that.
Those who’ve never taken the opportunity to immerse themselves in Mike’s entire career fail to remember there was once a time when the world wondered if the league’s most talented and exciting player would ever graduate to “world champion.” That, my friends, is everything pre-June 1991; a B.C. era if there was one in sports (Before Championships).
In 1991, while the Bulls were in the midst of overcoming the one team to repeatedly kick their championship dreams in the nuts – the Detroit Pistons – then TV analyst Pat Riley sat down with Michael Jordan for a near 10-minute clip, which has since become lost in history. He openly admitted wanting to play the Portland Trailblazers instead of the Lakers because the latter had the upper hand on experience. And for a guy who loved the spotlight more than anyone in recent memory, he wasn’t too enthused about the thought of having the attention of the entire country fixated on a Clash of the Titans-like matchup between he and Magic Johnson.
Michael, for everything he had accomplished up to that point, appeared calm, but remarkably humble. Knowing how the story ended, hearing Jordan actually contemplate not playing in the 1992 Olympics was stupefying. Seriously, take a moment to imagine that team without Jordan. They’d have still won by 40 every game coasting to the gold, but we would never have the stories of him, Magic and Charles Barkley staying up until 6 a.m. playing cards only to play a game some three hours later. Could they have really been called “The Dream Team” if the unquestioned best player on the planet never made the trip to Barcelona? Probably, but it’s better he did anyway.
Ask an old head who was around to appreciate basketball in the ’70’s and ’80’s about Jordan prior to his first ring. The response between theirs and someone younger is like asking what a person thinks of OJ Simpson. Some know him as “The Juice,” while some simply remember him as the guy who Johnnie Cochran and Kim Kardashian’s daddy saved during the biggest murder trial of the past 25 years. Anywho, said old head will most likely tell you Jordan was a one-man wrecking crew who only cared about himself, getting his numbers and doing everything he could to win. If he fell flat, it was because of his teammates, not him. He was a killer on the court, and while he led the league in a host of statistical categories, he ranked dead last in accountability.
This is exactly the reason his MVP in 1991 changed so many minds. Mike seemed to get “it.” Not to say he hadn’t in years prior, but it came full circle with Jordan realizing if he wanted to be called champion – regardless if there was an “i” in the word – no one player had ever gotten to the mountaintop without trusting his support system. Accepting the award at half court with the guys he went to war with, Mike was emotional, nervous and at times uncomfortable. You could almost say the same when LeBron had his press conference a few weeks back.
The pressures of trying to live up to being “the best” in your profession based off the talents God gave you is one thing. Attempting to have them sing in perfect harmony with what the world’s perception of a “winner” represents is the true test. Building the wall of invincibility around his team meant tearing down his own insecurities (which sometimes masked themselves as strengths). And once he did that, the league was never the same.