Leave it to Magic Johnson to set us all straight. He shall put the future on hold, not that he has a choice now, but Sunday can cure at least some of what ails him.
”I haven`t had a chance to say goodbye to all the fans,” Johnson mentioned, arms folded beneath that bright smile. ”This might be my last game, so my VCR will be working.”
Whether Magic will attempt to play on past his NBA All-Star appearance might not be his call, much as he wishes it were, because for once the ball is not in his court. When Magic went to the podium in Los Angeles late last fall for that retirement announcement, he recognized that his body`s new timepiece isn`t the 24-second clock. In fact, the process began at the peak of his fame and fortune, when Magic blithely indulged in a style of life that tempts an early death.
There was nothing heroic about Johnson`s performance on Nov. 7, nor will there be anything courageous about his endeavor Sunday. But that doesn`t make it wrong. If any player in the history of this league he helped resurrect from the ashes deserves a world-class farewell, it is Magic, and a pox on anyone who thinks otherwise. He filled pockets, he filled seats, he filled cold arenas and stuffy team buses and cramped locker rooms with his own brand of joy. He has earned Sunday, for years of being Magic.
Magic is no different from so many athletes who couldn`t give it up when the legs gave out or, what`s worse, had to give it up before the legs did. As Phil Jackson, the coach of the Bulls and Eastern Conference All-Stars, says,
”You can`t find competition at the YMCA.” Magic is still too vibrant and young and lean to tell all those people who voted for him, thanks but no thanks. He says he wouldn`t have come here had his presence not been demanded, and you believe him, because Magic knows crowds the way he knows the fast break.
Where Magic is different is that he is no longer just positive, but HIV-positive, infected instead of infectious, a threat if he cuts a finger instead of a swath for the hoop. Former adversaries who still love him whisper that they now fear him, too. There is that vast unknown about AIDS, though the doctors who should know say the possibility of Magic spreading his virus can be pegged with a decimal point followed by a litany of zeroes, pick a number. Is it worth bucking infinitesimal odds for Charles Barkley to shut up and play ball? One would think so, and now so does he.
”I was misquoted,” insisted Philadelphia`s mound of sound. ”I didn`t say Magic didn`t belong here. I said he maybe shouldn`t come because of all the aggravation and the circus atmosphere.”
But the real circus will come later, if Magic opts to outrun reality. The same medical experts who blessed his desire to suit up for Sunday`s exhibition informed him about the perils of even thinking about continuing his career with such an illness. He quit on the spot to take care of himself and to turn the page. Magic would carry a message instead of the Lakers. His judgment then, as it always was when he dribbled through defenses, seemed flawless. However, when Magic talks about the Olympics and maybe even next season, you worry for the man all over again.
Since he came forward with the truth, there has been virtually no attention paid to his partners, the women with whom he was so careless, wherever they are. And in this very state of Florida, Kimberly Bergalis went to her grave after going to the dentist. Was she accorded a standing ovation on national TV for her bravery? No, she went to Washington like a scarecrow to be heard. If Magic is sincere about teaching minorities to learn more and urging politicians to do more, will he get it done by going to practice? By trying to beat the Sacramento Kings or trying to beat the killer that lurks within?
Magic`s decision to play in Sunday`s shindig is above reproach, and the NBA that cleared his path doesn`t need big TV ratings to survive, for it has nothing to prove, either. It`s his life and, in so many ways, it`s his league. He`ll play Sunday because he should play. But the millions of admirers to whom Magic gave his best now want what`s best for Magic, and he`ll say it all if he really does say goodbye on Sunday.
He will miss the crowds, and the crowds will miss him, but there are more important things in life. There is life itself, and then there is the alternative, and none of us, not even Magic, gets to vote on that. Sunday will be easier for him than Monday.
