ANOTHER BRILLIANT MEMORY
Invincible. Times six.
A single tear leaked down Michael Jordan’s face. Maybe it was only sweat. Jordan earned both. He deserved each. Maybe never more.
The hugs, from Phil Jackson, from Scottie Pippen, from Dennis Rodman, were just a little tighter, held a little longer.
The music was over and yet the Bulls felt the need to linger over the last dance.
“I have another life,” Jordan would say. “I’ll have to get to it some time.”
No hurry, Michael.
“You grace us with your presence,” said NBA commissioner David Stern, handing Jordan his sixth NBA Finals MVP Trophy.
Ah, why don’t they just rename the thing for him right now? Rename the fourth quarter, at least.
Certainly any game-winning moment will be forever known as Michael Time. Be like Mike?
Can you hit the game winner, the title winner? Can you steal the ball to get to the game winner, the title winner? Is that not the defining memory to leave of what you are and what you have meant to basketball?
“Yes,” Jordan said. “If that’s the case.”
Will it be the case? All the principals remained coy, even Jerry Reinsdorf, offering hope and a prayer that “Scottie and Michael will come back one more time.”
Players may be too late. Hope has another name. Money.
“Tonight it’s a lot of sympathetic feelings about this team and where we want to go,” Jordan said. “But as time gets involved, some of those feelings might change. You never know.”
“It won’t be his last game,” said John Stockton. “He’s not quitting. He’ll be back. Scottie will be back. Phil Jackson will be back. I’m tired of hearing it. It worked for them. Give them credit.”
So, it was all a great scam? What does Stockton know? It was no scam when Pippen played the game like he could have used a walker, an I.V. and a tea trolley.
It was Jordan’s fierce will that made up for Pippen’s lack, not an unfamiliar function of their relationship. That was no scam. That was Jordan as Jordan, in all his legend. It has always been Jordan, and all the rest have been occasional accomplices.
“It has been wonderful, tremendous, unforgettable,” said Pippen, coming as close to summing up as anyone.
Will Jordan ever run out of moments? Of course he will. Maybe he has. Maybe his game-winning jumper, which came after his Karl Malone stopping steal, may be the last shot as a Bull. Maybe that is why Jordan uncharacteristically posed, arm still raised in follow through, making a memory last just a bit a longer.
“Hopefully I’ve put enough memories out there for people to have memories of what Michael Jordan did in his years in the NBA,” Jordan said.
Stockton’s final, desperate, futile shot for Utah clattered and teased the rim and then leaped safely all the way into Bulls’ history.
Jordan raised his right hand, five fingers full, and raised his left hand, the single finger making the number complete, six.
“Michael is a real-life hero,” said Jackson.
Jordan’s winning shot was classic Jordan, a push, a feint, an opening.
“That’s when the moment becomes the moment for me,” Jordan said. “Once you get to the moment, you know you’re there. Things start to move slowly, you start to see the court very well. You start reading what the defense is trying to do.
“I saw that, I saw that moment. (Bryon) Russell reached and I took advantage of the moment. I never doubted myself. I never doubted the whole game.”
Who would dare doubt?
“He’s the greatest player to ever play this game,” said Jerry Sloan, “and this league needs players like that.”
Not to minimize the compliment, but there are no other players like that. Not then. Not now. Not soon.
Not ever.
