Poetic Last Dance
Dribble, pull up, shoot, bucket, drip, rinse, and repeat. For hours and hours on end, the GOAT poured everything into the game. Like every other sport fan out there, I’m eternally grateful that ESPN decided to release The Last Dance documentary earlier than planned. For the average basketball fan out there, this documentary was a huge awakening, or small reminder, of the greatness that is Michael Jeffrey Jordan. The nineties showcased how a psychotic, executional masterpiece can stride from moment to moment in poetic fashion.
I honestly miss the old school NBA ball where players actually could play through contact and were more in tuned with the tactical component of the game instead of just hurling up step back threes all game. Coming into the nineties, the NBA was poised for a new and revolutionary face to take over the game following the eighties reign of Magic and Bird. Air Jordan was a highlight reel that was unlike anything the world had scene prior, yet he faltered in the playoffs for countless years with the lack of great players around him or a physical foundation to withstand the Bad Boy Pistons in the late eighties. The sheer drive and tactical determination really set in in the early nineties and throughout the rest of the decade to cement Jordan’s legacy.
If you want something you’ve never had, you must be willing to do something you’ve never done.
Like any good story of a small boy maturing into a strong man, there is hard work and discipline that goes into the journey. It’s no surprise that Jordan was a relentless worker both in the gym and the court. Tim Grover, now world-renowned trainer, came onto the scene in 1990 to drastically change the trajectory of how Jordan’s career would unfold. Like most of the upper-echelon of athletes, Jordan had all the skills in the world to dazzle opponents and defenses but had a frail foundation when it came to the physical aspect of the game. Tim Grover saw the opportunity to build up Jordan’s physique through a unique weight-training program. With no experience training professional athletes prior, Grover was given 30 days to train Jordan; 30 days turned into 15 years and six championships to his name.
Outside of the physical aspect, the mental aspect came into the picture with revolutionary coach Phil Jackson. Prior to Phil Jackson, Jordan was accustomed to carrying the team by handling the ball on nearly every single possession up the court. Phil Jackson, along with assistant Tex Winter, revolutionized the Bull’s offense with the triangle offense that forced the ball out of Jordan’s hands more than he would have liked to when initially presented the idea. The artistry of spacing to get the defense into a funk was pivotal to the Bull’s legendary nineties run.
Above both the game’s tactics and physicality, it’s the mind games and head space that Jordan tinkered with that has me, as with most people, truly amazed. Here’s a man who says he wants to win at any and all costs to get to the ultimate goal of winning an NBA championship. On the court, whether it was in practice with his teammates or in a game against another team, Jordan always found a way to mess with the psyche of his adversaries through his piercing trash talk remarks to test whether or not they were willing to step up to the challenge. More often than not, he got the best out of his opponents by having them shy away from the moment and lower themselves knowing who and what they were up against in Jordan. He would go even as far as contriving story lines for himself to pit him against his direct competition as a way to fuel his motivation. As for his teammates, that’s where tough love fortunately paid off; a cold, brutally honest leadership style sunk into the heads of his teammates such that they were able to elevate their games to a level that Jordan could respect. Six championships later, I don’t think any one of them could really complain.
Poetry in motion. This wasn’t a man who was a stone cold killer 24-7. He had the spiritual grounding factor to remain in the present and have a good time with fellow NBA players, albeit while still competing over a card game or out on the golf course. He was someone who knew when to switch it on and become Air Jordan and when to switch it off and become gregarious Michael. There was a gracefulness to how he strode both on and off the court. The footwork, the nonchalant swagger, the confidence, etc. were all pillars to his greatness as a person, something that was merely amplified and personified on the hardwood courts.
The last dance. One final run at a title with all the cards stacked against them following the loss in game 5 at home in the 1998 NBA finals. Down three with 40 seconds to go. Time seemingly stood still when you realized Michael Jordan was on the court and the moment was there to be seized. All the hours in the gym, studying footage and tactics, and ability to be fearless came to fruition in those final three plays. I still get chills watching the playback of those final 40 seconds and see that quick two for one drive and score and the steal on Malone. And the last shot. Everyone knew, Rodman, Pippen, the Utah Jazz crowd, and the rest of the world that no one would get the ball out of Jordan’s hands in that moment.
Pure poetry when you see the image of the shot from Jordan to call game to win his sixth championship with 6.6 seconds left on the clock and a kid throwing up a six at that very same moment. Take a look at it for yourself here. We will likely never see anyone ever get close to the pure poetry that Jordan graced the world with in the nineties in the basketball world. All we can do is salute the greatness, take inspiration from it all, and hope, as the closest thing to Jordan would say:
You have to dance beautifully in the box that you’re comfortable dancing in.
“My attitude is that if you push me towards something that you think is a weakness, then I will turn that perceived weakness into a strength.” - Michael Jordan
