For those of us who thought Michael Jordan wouldn’t make it through the season without getting hurt, there is no satisfaction in seeing the best basketball player ever looking old, tired and surgically repaired.
That was the concern early on, that Jordan would come out of this latest comeback altered in some way, a 1984 Cadillac finding itself on blocks in a chop shop. It’s the same concern now.
The competitor inside Jordan will have him rushing back with a playoff spot on the line for the Wizards. If you take away the possibility of a postseason for MJ, all you are left with is an athletic-shoe salesman who can average 24 points in his sleep.
Thus there are certain things you can count on in life–death and taxes, taxes after death in probate court and Jordan willing himself back to help his team make the playoffs. He defies odds and loves the attention that comes with it.
The thing about those bright lights, however, is they reveal every wrinkle, every blemish, every cigar-cutter scar. Jordan knew it would be that way, and maybe he believes that’s the lesson for us–that it’s OK to get older. We already knew older meant hipper because of the existence of Hugh Hefner, but Hef can’t dunk, unless there’s more to Viagra than we know.
As most of the developed world–and parts of Southeast Asia–now knows, the 39-year-old Jordan is recuperating from arthroscopic surgery that repaired torn cartilage in his right knee. Reports have Jordan out of action from two weeks to forever, depending on his ability to heal and the relative optimism of various media outlets.
The Washington Post, for example, faced with the prospect of covering the Wizards featuring Kwame Brown and Jahidi White, has hired a shaman to cure Jordan “yesterday, if possible,” a Post spokesman said. And there will be a “laying of hands” upon Jordan’s knee by the entire Post sports staff.
Wizards coach Doug Collins, who traded ina broadcaster’s microphone to work with Michael, has been sobbing uncontrollably since Jordan’s injury and screaming, “They can send a man to the moon, but they can’t fix a knee?”
As we wait with bated breath for Michael’s return, this might a good time to analyze his latest comeback. There are two questions to address during this pause in the Great Experiment.
1. Is Jordan better off for having returned to the game this season?
This is a question only Michael can answer, but let me attempt to get inside his cranium, an area that resembles a hazy, smoke-filled casino: He’s not sure. His knees hurt. His body aches. His wife recently reminded him that his lifestyle is not healthy in the traditional marriage sort of way.
What has been on public display is a man searching for the meaning of his life. Fascinating? To Nike officials, yes, but then they’d be fascinated by Michael’s nail clippings.
Jordan did remind himself that even with three years off, he’s still among the best players in the world. There wasn’t much question of that. There wasn’t much question that Jordan, coming to a bad team, would be among the top 10 scorers in the NBA either.
So other than having captive card players on the team airplane, Jordan might be wondering whether this was all worth it. The answer will come if the Wizards make the playoffs. He’s not a teaching pro to young stars. He’s a winner.
2. Are we better off having witnessed the Third Coming of Michael?
It has never been about us, aside from the obvious marketing and sales opportunities. It’s about Jordan, about his being unable to let go of this one thing he once did better than anybody else.
It’s hard to begrudge him that, although there is this vague feeling of emptiness hanging over Jordan’s return. It has lacked meaning and substance.
I don’t see how I’m better off than I was four months ago. Jordan could come back three years from now and average 18 points a game. Scoring never was the issue.
Watching Jordan going against the Bulls in Chicago in January was like watching an asbestos cleanup site. I’d much prefer to have my memories than the current version, but it’s his life.
Michael can do whatever he wants with that life, but it doesn’t mean it has to be fun witnessing it. Watching liver spots grow isn’t fun either.
Wake me if the Wizards make the playoffs.
