How to Be Like Mike (18 page)

After the games in Chicago, the media came at Michael in waves. The first wave came, then the second, then the third, then the fourth. At the back of the pack one day was a sixteen-year-old kid from the New Trier High School paper. Michael took as much time with him as he had with the major media. He did that kind of thing all the time. No matter how dumb the question, Michael would answer it like it was a great question.

—Chuck Swirsky
BROADCASTER

Not long ago, I got a note from Steve Schanwald, an executive vice president with the Bulls. He sent me a copy of a letter that I had sent him when I was the Philadelphia 76ers’ general manager back in 1977, a brief word of encouragement to a young guy who was trying to break into the sports business. “I was cleaning out the attic the other day,” he said, “and I came across this letter. I don’t think there’s anything more rewarding in our profession than helping young people climb the ladder of success. You were big-time back then and I wasn’t, but you treated me like I was. Thanks for that.”

Tony Kornheiser, the talented Washington sports columnist, observed: “MJ had such a dignity to his spirit, and he understood the responsibility of being a superstar. As a reporter in a major MJ press gathering, if you asked him a question and he used your first name in answering you—well, all your peers looked at you as if you were at an elevated plateu and had been bathed in celestial oil. It was like, Michael Jordan knows who I am!”

This is part of a letter that my daughter Karyn, as a freshman at Indiana University, wrote me three years ago. I share it with you as proof that influence, no matter how small or great, is always recognized.

Dad, I’ve realized a lot of things since I’ve been away. I’ve realized that I have lived one of the most exciting, interesting lives and have had thousands of opportunities that could have only come to me through you. I am only now realizing how valuable they are. . . . I have notes that you’ve sent me hanging up in my room, and I don’t think you realize how much they mean to me.

Perhaps she’s right. Perhaps it’s impossible for me to step away, to gain some dispassionate distance and fathom how much my words really meant to my daughter. But what matters to me, more than anything, is that Karyn knows.

CHAPTER SEVEN

THE KILLER
IN CONTROL

JORDAN ON COMPETING AND WINNING:

T
he higher the stakes, the higher the rewards, the higher the level you play at. I’ve always had that. I think that’s the mental part of the challenge. I love to hear them say they doubt me. That’s something that’s always driven me. You tell me I can’t do something, and that’s what I’m going to try to do.

F
ormer Coca-Cola Chairman Roberto Goizueta said that organizations that don’t have an enemy need to create one. When asked why, he explained, “That’s the only way you can have a war.” In public, Coca-Cola may want to teach the world to sing, but their motto is “Destroy Pepsi.”

—Dr. Warren Bennis
author

I
t may sound like a bold statement, but there are volumes of evidence to prove that Michael Jordan is, quite simply, the I greatest competitor this generation has ever seen. There is an interminable game being played inside his head; he will do whatever is necessary to win. He thrives on retribution. Every slight during his career was a major affront, every strong performance against him a jab in the eye.

I have heard dozens of corroborating stories in the midst of researching this book, so many that I cannot recount them all here without this chapter alone approaching the length of a Russian novel; but for the moment, let us explore the sad story of LaBradford Smith, whose name will be forever linked with the fury of Michael Jordan.

Smith was a marginal pro with the Washington Bullets who, one night in 1993, mustered thirty-seven points against the Bulls in Chicago. Then, afterward, according to Jordan, he muttered a facetious, “Good game.” Jordan was furious. He said nothing on the plane ride to Washington, where the Bulls had to play another game against the Bullets. He ate nothing. He drank nothing. B. J. Armstrong walked back to speak to him. “Don’t take this personally,” Jordan said, “but tomorrow I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do.”

Jordan nearly matched Smith’s previous game total in the first half. He rode Smith defensively for the entire game. A few days later, the
Washington Post
’s David Aldridge looked into what had happened.

And what had happened is that Smith never said anything. Not one taunt. Not one word.

“Michael Jordan invented the story,” Aldridge said, “to ignite a fury. To kill Smith and the Bullets.”

“Michael was so competitive, it was almost abnormal,” said former Bulls assistant coach Tex Winters. “He’d rip into his teammates, and I’ve often wondered why. I think it was his way of challenging himself. I think he was so much better than everyone that he had to do these things just to stay interested.”

“I’ve never seen anyone like Michael Jordan who would fight so hard not to lose,” said Washington Wizards owner Abe Pollin. “I’ve never seen anything like his drive.”

MJ’s comical, but intimidating repartee with opponents not only reveals his supreme confidence, but also serves to embellish his legend. In Babe Ruth fashion, he called his shots:

Vern Maxwell, NBA guard:
“In my third season we played Chicago. Before the tipoff, MJ came over and whispered, ‘Max, I want you to string your shoes as tight as you can, because this is going to be a rough night for you. ’ In the second quarter he looked at me and said, ‘Vern, did you string your shoes up like I told you?’”

Tariq Abdul-Wahad, French-born NBA player:
“I was on the bench and MJ looked at me and said, ‘Send the French guy out here. ’”

Mel Turpin, former NBA player:
“Michael dunked over one of our little point guards, prompting a fan to yell, ‘Why don’t you do that to someone your own size?’A few plays later, Michael dunked over my seven-foot frame, turned to the fan and said, ‘Is he big enough for you?’”

Butch Beard, former NBA coach:
“In the fourth quarter, I went to the scorer’s table to check on a malfunctioning clock. MJ was kneeling, waiting to reenter the game and said, ‘Coach, you don’t need to be concerned about the clock. I’m going back in now, and I’m going to take over the game. ’He did, too. He scored sixteen points in six minutes and the game was over.”

Chauncey Billups, NBA player:
“Right after I was drafted, Reebok did a commercial built around my quickness. The tag line was, ‘He plays out of his shoes. ’ MJ saw me before opening night in Boston and said, “Welcome to the NBA, Rookie. And by the way, you better have your shoes on tonight because I’m going to run circles around you. ’”

Marques Johnson, former NBA player:
“At the 1986 NBA All-Star weekend in Dallas, I ended up in a limo with Patrick Ewing and MJ. Patrick said, ‘I respect you, but don’t be bringing your stuff into my office. ’ MJ replied, ‘I’ve got a hide-and-seek show you haven’t seen yet. ’”

Doug Collins, NBA coach:
“It was late in the game of my first night as the Bulls’ coach, and we were in a dog fight at New York. Michael saw how intense I was and said, ‘Get a drink of water. I’m not going to let you lose your first game. ’He didn’t either.”

I witnessed Michael’s competitive fire at the Bay Hill (Orlando) tournament. Arnold Palmer, Pennsylvania Governor Tom Ridge, Amy Grant and MJ were in the same foursome. Amy won the first hole and the crowd loved it. Michael came off the green wearing a scowl, barking, ‘We got us a game going?’”

When Rex Chapman scored forty on him, Jordan responded in their next meeting with fifty. When Jerry Stackhouse scored nineteen points in the first half, Jordan held him scoreless in the second half— and scored forty-five points. “MJ might have a bad game,” said veteran pro Sam Cassell, “but never bad back-to-back games.”

When the Bulls trailed Vancouver by sixteen in the fourth quarter, Jordan scored eighteen consecutive points to win the game (afterward, the entire Bulls team ran up the tunnel and toward the locker singing the words to the Gatorade jingle, “. . . Like Mike! If we could be like Mike! . . .” )When Matt Guokas was coaching in Orlando in 1991, he chose to double-team Jordan, and Horace Grant and Scottie Pippen carved up the Magic. Eight days later, the Magic traveled to Chicago, and Guokas refused to double-team Jordan. He scored sixty-four points, and he glided past Guokas the entire game with a sour look on his face, as if disappointed he wasn’t being double-teamed (by the way, our Magic team won that game).

When Nikki McCray of the Washington Mystics kidded Michael that he should fear Kobe and Iverson if he comes back, MJ replied, “No, they should fear me.”

He has crumbled entire franchises, almost as if casting a hex. His game-winning shot against the Cleveland Cavaliers in the 1991 play-offs sent the entire Cavs franchise into a tumble. “It’s never been the same since,” said former Cleveland general manager Wayne Embry.

“If MJ was having a quiet game, I’d leave him alone,” said former NBA player Dennis Scott. “If you waved your arms to stir the crowd, MJ took it personally. You just play your game and don’t say anything. Anyone who gets into it with MJ will get whipped.”

You can’t imagine the pressure that’s lifted off your shoulders when you have MJ on your team. Every time you walk on the floor, you’re confident you have a good chance to win.

—Dennis Rodman

“You never wanted to do anything to get Michael Jordan riled up,” said former Utah guard Jeff Hornacek.

Those who did say things saw Jordan’s vengeful side. It could be wondrous to observe. He shot free throws with his eyes closed. He dunked on seven-foot centers. When John Long refused to shake his hand before a game, Jordan scored sixty-three. When George Karl criticized Jordan late in his career for being nothing more than a jump-shooter, Jordan scored forty-five—thirty-five of them on jump shots. When 76ers assistant Fred Carter kept yelling during a play-off game, “Make Michael shoot jumpers,” Michael hit six in a row and hollered, “How’s that, Freddy?” When a Seattle writer mentioned that the Supersonics’ Nate McMillan was out to stop him, Jordan spent an hour before the game watching tapes of McMillan. He scored forty that night; McMillan didn’t score a point. In 1999, he emerged from retirement for an afternoon to school Bulls rookie Corey Benjamin in a game of one-on-one.

He’d telegraph his moves to defenders, tell them he would fake right this time, move left the next time, would shoot a jump shot here, and still they couldn’t stop him. He vanquished egos.

One night while playing against Miami, Jordan began jawing at the Heat’s well-coiffed coach, Pat Riley. Next possession, Jordan backed down his man in front of the Heat bench and asked Riley, “What do you want me to do, take a jump shot or drive?” Riley didn’t answer. Jordan said, “Okay, I’ll drive.” And he threaded into the lane and dunked.

The American ideal is to win, unless you’re playing against your grandmother. But even then you should try to win—unless you’re mentioned in the will.

—Al McGuire
COACH, BROADCASTER

Next time downcourt, Jordan asked the same thing. Riley didn’t answer. “Okay,” Jordan said. “Jump shot.”

All net, of course.

“One day Michael and I were arguing about something,” said Washington Capitals owner Ted Leonsis, Jordan’s business partner. “Suddenly he held six fingers up in the air. I asked, ‘What’s that mean?’He said, ‘That’s for six rings, so shut up. I know what I’m talking about. ’”

My son Brian swam in the Junior Olympics when he was fifteen. He was talented, and I always thought he could have had a great deal more success than he did. So one night I asked him why he didn’t.

“Doesn’t it get your blood pumping standing up on those blocks?” I asked. “When you’re getting ready to swim?”

“Dad,” he said, “I really appreciate your motivational speeches. They’re very good. But honestly, it doesn’t.”

“But what about the competition?” I said.

“Dad,” he said, “the competition doesn’t mean that much to me. I’m going to chill out. I don’t plan on doing that much competing.”

Perhaps this is merely proof that my son doesn’t like swimming, or doesn’t like working, or doesn’t
really
like my motivational speaking. But I prefer to think of Brian as the exception to the rule. I like to think that he will come around eventually, because he will have to come around. Because as much as we like to push ourselves (and rightfully so) to be caring and compassionate, in the end, we must compete to win, and we must win in order to succeed.

“Competition has shaped every facet of our society,” said author and speaker Harvey Mackay. “It is the essence of motivation. It’s the reason we set annual sales goals and post monthly standings. It’s the reason we get results. Competition is what drives performance in every field. Let’s stop treating competition as if it were wrong. It’s not. It’s our strongest motivator for improving ourselves and the world in which we live.”