“THE LAST DANCE” REVIEWED - EPISODE 8

“I’m back”

As baseball was put on indefinite hold, the NBA season moved forward. The Bulls, led by Scottie Pippen, were in striking distance of a return to their former glory. You know there was a part of Jordan that didn’t want Scottie to get all the shine of bringing the Bulls another title. Suddenly, you started getting Sportscenter nightly updates about how Jordan was seen at dinner with a former teammate, or how he’d crashed a Bulls practice session. The rumors started to grow, maybe MJ was going to un-retire and pick up where he left off.

Sure enough, he did return. And while he looked like the world’s best basketball player when he stepped back in the iconic red Bulls uniform, his game showed obvious rust. He’d been away for a year and a half concentrating on basketball after all. He looked human. And while it was fun to have him back, we were all left wondering if he would ever be the superhero we remembered him as.

Knocked out by Magic

Jordan was essentially returning to a post-Jordan version of the NBA. And the Orlando Magic were the rising team on everyone’s radar. They were powered by two of the leagues most dynamic personalities: Shaquille O’Neal and Penny Hardaway. It’s hard to remember now, but before injuries, Penny was a new kind of NBA beast. Long-armed and high flying. He was a point guard who could score on command. He and Shaq played the most entertaining brand of basketball in the league. Penny seemingly picked up right where Jordan left off. Even getting his own line of signature sneakers and iconic Nike commercials featuring a puppet version of him called Lil Penny. It was marketing gold. Penny kept winning and his sneakers became a cultural phenomenon. 

In a post-Jordan first NBA retirement, Penny Hardaway was king.

So it was only fitting that Jordan would return to take on his heir apparent. But Orlando was at the height of their powers when they met the Bulls. Chicago was still trying to figure out how to work Jordan back into their system, and he was still trying to turn himself back into an unstoppable force. It was simply too soon. And the Magic ended up knocking the Bulls out and taking the Eastern Conference crown.

There is a lasting image of a defeated Jordan, at the end of the Bulls’ bench, looking across the court at the celebrating Orlando team. He looks sickened. He looks furious. And you can tell there is something brewing inside of him. In defeat, his fires had been rekindled. His reaction and commitment to coming all the way back would lead to an era of dominance even more impressive than the Bulls’ first three-peat. But for now, the off-season beckoned.

But more specifically, Intergalactic basketball playing monsters beckoned…

Space Jam

Man, those pickup games during the Space Jam filming must have been legendary. I love how Mike extended the invite for everyone to come out and play. It was like his test drive to see where everyone’s game was really out. The ultimate scouting mission. He wanted to get comfortable with everyone before he had to face them in battle again. And he was establishing himself as the king by calling everyone out to come and kiss the ring before his comeback fully kicked in. 

And from an advertising and branding perspective, Space Jam was about 25 years ahead of its time. Talk about branded content. That’s the power of Michael Jordan and Nike to pull off a two hour shoe commercial disguised as a feature film. All based on an actual shoe spot from the year before. Talk about unstoppable branding power. I believe I can fly indeed!

Watching the best team of all time, live

I saw MJ and the Bulls play live during their mythic 72-10 season. They were in town to play the Portland Trailblazers and my Dad and I got tickets. Now I’d been to lots of games before and since then, but having MJ in the building was different. Even in a large space, even from the nosebleeds, you could feel his presence taking up the entire Rose Garden arena with its 22,000 person capacity. No one else had that kind of force with them. 

We showed up early to the game, because hey, Jordan was in town and maybe we could catch an extra glimpse of him. Sure enough we did. Hours before the actual game, MJ was out there on the court by himself. Before there was any sort of crowd assembled. When there was just media and team staff milling about. But MJ was out there on the court, putting in work. This wasn’t the playoffs. Portland wasn’t even good at the time. This was a “meaningless” game in February. But Michael Jordan was the only player on the court, hours before tipoff, working on his game. This stuck with me.

This was his first year after his baseball exodus, and watching him warm up, you could feel that he wasn’t satisfied with his level. Specifically, he was working on his post up and signature fadeaway. The weapon that would come to define his second three-peat. I watched as he repeated the same moves, over and over and over again. He would flip the ball up in the air, and let it backspin into him, like he was simulating a pass from someone else. Then he’d catch it in a crouched position, and take a series of dribbles. One or two shoulder fakes later, he would rise up, floating backwards and release the shot with a perfect arch and backspin. At one point, someone on the Bulls’ staff came out and fed him some passes in the post. But mostly, it was just MJ on his own, in an empty stadium. I kept wondering, if Michael’s the best, how come the guys who aren’t as good weren’t out there putting in work? Oh, this is the difference I remembered thinking. It would inspire me to love practicing on my own before and after games, and learning to feel those extra repetitions paying off.

I was literally at this game. And now it’s a GIF. Maybe I’m one of the specks in the background.

Hours later the game started, and Jordan was electric. Even on a meaningless February game. The Bulls’ offense was perfectly spaced as they had become masters of Phil Jackson’s triangle offense. The ball constantly kept moving. Around the perimeter. In and out. Guys finding the open man. The Bulls moved like the ultimate well-oiled machine. And every two or three times down the court, Michael would end up in the post, in the exact spot he had been practicing before the game. The results were the same too. Picture perfect fadeaways over JR Rider, or whatever Trailblazer defender was trying to stop him that night. Jordan cruised to about 30 in the Bulls’ win. Every time he touched the ball, the arena charged up again. This is what we were paying for. Even in the 300-level, you could feel Jordan’s signature competitive spirit. As he chomped through his gum and the Portland defense. This was basketball on another plane. And we were all witnesses to one of the greatest seasons every put together in team sports.

Giving The Glove a slap in the face

Wow, this segment about the Bulls versus Sonics series in 1996 has already turned into a meme. When Jordan was wiggling his head and cackling at Gary Payton claiming he “slowed Mike down,” is already plastered over the internet. I mean, the Bulls did win the series, but Payton was defensive player of the year. And it’s also true that the Sonics won two games as soon as Payton started guarding Jordan. The stats actually show that Jordan’s numbers and shooting percentages went down. That was the narrative at the time soon. With the media criticizing Sonics’ coach George Karl for not having Payton guard Jordan earlier in the series. I don’t know what Jordan attributes his dip in production too. But hey, champions get to write their own history and end up on the winning side of all the memes. 

Nevertheless, respect to Gary Payton and an additional shoutout to Shawn Kemp. Again, look at the YouTube highlights and Google Kemp’s stats. The guy actually made a case for being series MVP in a losing cause. He gave a gritty, iconic Finals performance.

“THE LAST DANCE” REVIEWED - EPISODE 7

Pain of three

The game doesn’t look fun anymore at this point. At this point, after the Bull’s second title and Jordan serving as the international face of the Dream Team, we have reached peak Jordan-mania. He had conquered the basketball world and exploded the importance and profile of the game worldwide. In many ways, Michael Jordan was the NBA. He was existing on another plane. Playing a game beyond the game. On and off the court he had an untouchable aura. And you can see here, it was taking a toll on Michael Jordan the human at the center of the global phenomenon.

However the task at hand was to pick up the ball and keep on winning. With the entire league gunning against him, Jordan grew even more hardcore with his training and weights routine. The media smear campaign around his gambling and bullying of teammates would intensify. Michael prickled and recoiled from all the heat. Shutting himself off from the media and focusing on winning basketball games. As usual, he began taking all of these media slights personally, and churning them into his legendary fuel.

The biggest basketball slight of the season would be Charles Barkley winning the MVP award. Yes, Charles had an incredible season with the Phoenix Suns and was a legendary Hall-of-Fame player in his own right. But when the award was announced, it felt more like he was winning the “best player in the NBA whose name isn’t Michael Jordan” award. Predictably, Jordan took offense and powered his game in the NBA Finals to another level, which yielded the Bulls third straight NBA championship. Only at the celebration, Jordan didn’t seem overcome with emotion as he had after his first title and he didn’t seem overjoyed as he did in 1992. He seemed flat out exhausted. There was even talk of him retiring. He probably just needed a summer off. The dude looked flat our spent from being a living god slash superhero for the past three years.

Father’s death

The tragic news of his father’s murder came in the offseason. It was the final blow in a long run of tough times for Jordan. It also had the effect of turning him back into a sympathetic character. It was a reminder for the hype-crazed media that this global icon was indeed human. A son who had lost his father. It cast a further shadow over what had been an already subdued championship off-season. There would be no celebrations. Just reflection and meditation as Michael looked toward the future.

“I have nothing left to prove”

After the dour championship anti-celebration and his father’s death, it came as a shock, but not a huge surprise that Jordan would step away from the game. At the time, as a fan, it felt inevitable that the Bulls would keep on winning and had a legitimate chance to win four titles in a row. But we would never get the chance to find out when Jordan called it quits. While the sports world was robbed of the most iconic figure since Muhammad Ali, Jordan had already created a legendary career. From his perspective, he’d done it all. Proved himself as an individual dynamo, and then, three times over, proved that he had the ability to elevate his teammates and franchise into the stratosphere. He would leave a gaping hole in the sport landscape, but his legend was already assured of living on.

Why baseball?

As a young athlete in the middle of both a basketball and baseball career, Jordan’s devotion to baseball was a validating force in my own choice to play the game. I even opted for a “like Mike” semi retirement of my own from basketball as I went all in on baseball. (I would miss the game too much and rejoin the basketball team mid-season.) While the casual fan and media would criticize Michael’s “Detour” into baseball, I understood what it was doing for him as a competitor. For one, it lowered the stakes and profile of what he was doing. There were no expectations of the world’s best basketball player trying to give it a go on the baseball diamond. Secondly, it allowed Jordan to start at the beginning of an athletic challenge. The whole journey of building fundamentals, learning the mental game and challenging himself to move up the rankings on his team lay in front of him.

At first, it seemed like a media stunt. Or maybe even some far-flung marketing move by Jordan and super brand Nike. Eventually Nike leaned into these conspiracy rumors with a Steve Martin helmed Super Bowl commercial. But as Jordan stayed at baseball, the results and his game improved. His body even slowly started to morph into that of a baseball player as his training regime fully shifted to meet the demands of the game. He built more long term stamina and trained himself to adjust to the repetition of baseball. Eventually he got into a groove. He started stealing bases. His speed was still elite at this point. Baseball people speculated that he could possibly become a base-stealing specialist if he kept at it. He knocked a few balls out of the park. He moved up the minor leagues. His batting average rose as he entered the fall leagues.

As baseball entered the winter, it also entered into intense labor negotiations. The major leagues were headed for a strike and stoppage of play. The commissioner talked about starting the season with “replacement players.” Basically offering open tryouts to amateurs for the chance to officially play for big league clubs while the real major leaguers were holding out. For a fleeting moment it seemed like Michael Jordan could be the world’s most iconic replacement player. But he quickly came out and said he wouldn’t break the picket line, and that he stood with the major league players in their protest. 

“THE LAST DANCE” REVIEWED - EPISODE 5

“That Laker Boy”

Man, this is emotional seeing Kobe Bryant talking about his idol so soon after his death. Kobe is back to life, full of life, tickled to be talking about his hero and literal role and game model. I find this relationship fascinating. For such a vengeful person as Jordan, it seems surprising that he would have embraced Kobe and put him under his wing. And really, this relationship was a clandestine one. Until the memorial for Kobe, when Jordan detailed some of their connection and signed out by saying “Rest well little brother,” the world never really had an eye into what was going on between the two all-time greats. There could be a whole documentary examining what that mentorship was like.

It was also revealing to see the throwback footage of a veteran Jordan talking trash about “that Laker boy” in the lockeroom of the All-Star Game. Surrounded by the game’s elite, Jordan almost seems defensive in obsessively talking about Kobe. It’s like he realized the young Bryant was a formidable threat, even at age 18. It speaks volumes that the young gun Kobe could get in Jordan’s dish like that. If only we had that time machine that could let peak Jordan and Kobe go at it. You know they would both relish in the chance to prove themselves. And we would all benefit from the spectacle of seeing fierce competitors locked in a battle for securing their all time legacies.

It really seems like Kobe “got” Jordan, and vice versa. Kobe faced the ridicule of “copying” Jordan’s game. I’ve never really understood that criticism. Why wouldn’t you copy the greatest to ever play the game? And so what that Kobe had the physical gifts, and mental approach to emulate MJ better than anyone else. Kobe was a pure disciple of Jordan, and for everyone wishing for the second coming, I hope they enjoyed Kobe while he was here. There was a fluidity to the fire that both players played with. I won’t get sucked into the GOAT argument here. For me, Jordan is the unshakeable king. But I also hold Kobe and LeBron in high regard. It’s like appreciating the work of different artists. Just because I love Picasso doesn’t mean I must disrespect Van Gogh. Generational sport talent is no different. I will say that Jordan touched the psyche in a more mythic way than Kobe or LeBron ever did. Jordan was almost like living, flying pop art. He was a Warhol can of soup. He was a Darth Vader wielding a lightsaber. He wasn’t just a basketball player, he was an icon. A personification of greatness. Maybe Mohammed Ali was the only other persona from sport to ascend to this kind of rarified position. Jordan was the perfect storm of basketball talent and a sustained and genius image making experiment. He transcended the sports pages and became an indelible meme on our psyches.

Signing with Nike

It’s funny to see the whole Nike singing reduced to a simple “My parents made me do it.” It’s one of those great time machine moments, where you go back in time, have Mike sign with Adidas and see if the story and cultural storm reaches the same zeitgeist. I’m a longtime Nike and Jordan fanboy to believe that it was the particular fusing of the man and the brand’s DNA that created the cultural impact they did. Nike was taking big swings and risks to get their athletes into popular culture, before that was a given pipeline. Other brands celebrated sports stars. There is a key distinction there for those paying attention.

Being “bigger than basketball” is now a common mantra. Now every season a handful of athletes are tagged “game changers.” Top athletes are now expected to be singer brands—taking to social media with the eloquence and ambition of CEOs and global business moguls. But before Jordan, bigger than basketball wasn’t a thing. Yes, you could be very good at the game, and become a superstar on the court. But there was no pathway to connect sport stars with a global business platform. Jordan created that template. Jordan excelled at the game on and off the court. He showed up to the arena in a fine suit, in an era where everyone else was wearing baggy sweatpants and hoodies. He defined a whole other type of game. And that separation built an unshakeable image and eventually moved untold billions of dollars in products.

1992 NBA Finals 

This series was a watershed moment for me personally. It pitted my favorite player, Jordan, against my favorite team, my hometown Portland Trailblazers. All year long there had been growing hype that the dream Finals matchup would be Michael Jordan versus Portland’s Clyde Drexler. Time has faded Drexler’s star from popular memory, but at the time, it was a vital debate. Jordan and Drexler finished first and second in MVP voting. Their games were similar—both predicated on owning the airspace high above the rim and delighting fans with insanely creative dunks.

The Last Dance doesn’t delve very deep into this series, other than to highlight Jordan taking offense at being compared to Drexler. And as Mike says, “that’s all I needed.” However, the series, wasn’t a sweep. It was tied 2-2 after four games. The Blazers had a chance to send the Bulls to their first ever Finals game 7, when they took a commanding 15-point lead into the fourth quarter of game 6, at Chicago Stadium. Phil Jackson and the Bulls even seemed to concede the game, resting Jordan for the fourth quarter, as a bunch of Bulls scrubs and Scottie Pippin mounted a comeback that would result in Chicago’s second title.

Clyde Drexler was a great player—he was even certified as one of the 50 greatest NBA players of all time. He was a member of the legendary Dream Team alongside Jordan. However, in this one-on-one duel with Jordan on the highest stage, he couldn’t pull off the upset. Clyde the Glide was a soft-spoken assassin. He didn’t talk trash. He didn’t give memorable quotes. His value lay entirely on his other worldly athleticism and all-star abilities on the court. He seemed mild mannered. He was knocked for not having a killer instinct. In the end, Jordan’s force of personality and unwavering obsession to dominate won the day. I just history would remember how hard the Blazers pushed Jordan’s Bulls. It wasn’t a cakewalk, even though the series has turned into a footnote in the narrative of Michael Jordan’s transcendence.

The Dream Team

This was absolutely the moment Michael Jordan became the clear face of the NBA. And maybe the brightest that an American athlete could possibly stand on the world’s stage. Magic and Bird were alongside him, as the icons of the 1980s, to pass the baton and sit back and watch as MJ took the pedestal they built and elevated it by an order of magnitude. The Dream Team would captivate Europe and plant the basketball seed in the hearts of a next generation of talent that would turn the continent into a hotbed of talent. 

Here we get another tale of vengeance as Jordan and Pippen vilified poor Tony Kukoc who had been drafted by the Bulls. These kind of stories feel frivolous and childish taken one at a time—but seeing these beats of imagined revenge pile up, you really see how the motivational engine of Jordan’s psyche worked. It all seems like a ripple affect of Jordan being bullied by the Pistons. Once he conquered his demon, that bullying instinct worked itself into his DNA until he in turn felt the lust of “administering pain.”

All this Dream Team footage has been poured over and used in other docs before, and it’s also interesting to see how even at the time, all of the other stars clearly looked up to Jordan. Just how he wanted it. He had a magnetic aura that set him apart, even when he was on a team of the 12 greatest basketball players ever assembled. Jordan was something else then, and the legend has only solidified his differences since then.

“THE LAST DANCE” REVIEWED - EPISODE 3

Dennis the Menace

Finally, we get the full on Rodman episode. Based on him getting a whole episode, you can tell that Jordan loves the guy. His colorful antics, and hair, easily distracted people from the immense talent he had. But watching Jordan, Pippen and Phil Jackson talk about what Rodman gave to those teams, you can see how valued his skills were.

The second three-peat Bulls were so beautiful to watch. They all knew the triangle offense and the ball zipped freely around court until it ended up in the hands of whoever had the open shot. It was an offense full of savvy, high IQ ball players, and it literally ran like clockwork. But, sometimes, the shots just weren’t falling. Sometimes MJ or Pippen were spent. 

That’s when Dennis would step in.

You could feel Rodman turn it on when his team needed it. When the energy just wasn’t there. He would find a way to get under the opponents skin, in a way that sparked the whole game. His elbows or flops or theatrics of the night would really fire up what ever pour soul he was guarding. Suddenly a humdrum game transformed into something electric. Sometimes it was as simple as Rodman jumping over the scorer’s table to track down a loose ball. Whatever his tactic was, the team responded. The fuel tanks got refilled. The crowd level raised. Suddenly Michael and Scottie would enter stage right and go back into being Superman and Batman or whatever dynamic duo you want to call them. But Rodman was always right there in the mix when it counted.

I liked the little subtext of Pippen returning to the Bulls after Jordan had formed a bond with Rodman. It’s almost like Scottie didn’t want to be left out. When he came back, the team gelled. Weird Dennis had been tamed enough, and repented enough from his Bad Boy Piston days. It seemed like it would be an obviously dysfunctional relationship, but it ended up being a highly functioning one.

I don’t think the Bulls are guaranteed to win three titles in a row without Rodman. He had to guard the biggest and best scorers on the other side. He waged mortal battle with Shawn Kemp, who was at the height of his powers, to get that first title in 96. Then he fought Karl Malone, twice. Look up the highlights on YouTube—Rodman played a pivotal role in how he shut down those guys. They got their numbers, but you could tell his psychological relentlessness grated on them. He created an edge and filed it down over the course of a series into a razor’s point.

I think this documentary is going to help secure Rodman into the Bulls legacy. Right where he should be.

The Bad Boys

In Rodman’s first act, he was a part of the notorious Detroit Pistons. They dispatched my beloved Portland Trailblazers in 1990, so I had a strong rooting interest for Jordan to bring their dynasty to an end in 1991. For Jordan, it was the culmination of three years of futile agony. He finally slayed his dragon, and in the process, Detroit create an absolute monster of the ages.

Without the Pistons thuggery, I don’t know what becomes of Michael Jordan. He probably wins a title or two—but without those disturbing runs through the depths of basketball hell, I don’t think Jordan ends up with the massive psychological chip on his shoulder. I mean look at the guy talking about the Pistons 30 years later. He’s that affected by what those guys did to him! 

Jordan needed revenge. And in the process, vengeance became the defining trait of his competitive drive. It wasn’t enough to win. There had to be stakes. There had to be humiliation on the line. And as Jordan says, he wanted to “administer pain.” His wounded psyche from failing against the Pistons in the late 80s, left an imprint that would go on to haunt the basketball world in the 90s.

I respect the Pistons. I don’t condone what they did, but it’s impressive how they were able to carve a unique and feared identity. They didn’t try to compete with the Hollywood slickness of Magic Johnson and the Lakers. They didn’t try to play old school ball like the Boston Celtics. They acted like a street gang. They played like thugs. And they had enough talent and charisma and shamelessness to play that way long enough to carve out their own dynasty. In the theater of basketball, Jordan fans everywhere owe a debt of gratitude to those Bad Boys for making Jordan’s trials as compelling as they did. It was good versus evil. It was air versus crowbars. 

When the Bulls finally vanquished the Pistons, who else could possibly stand in their way? The Knicks and various Finals challengers from the west would make their token efforts. But no one ever owned the Bulls, and Jordan’s ego, like the Pistons. When Jordan slayed his dragon, he was gifted a decade of dominance. Well earned. Hard fought. And apparently still a set of demons he is still wrestling with to this very day.

“THE LAST DANCE” REVIEWED - EPISODE 2

That Celtics’ series

It’s crazy how many short and mid-range jumpers Jordan hit in this early phase of his career. His jump shot for still looks the same as it did in his college days. It’s still a bit raw and not as refined as it would get later in his career. Also, the guy is hitting no three pointers. It’s all dunks and jump shots. It’s awesome seeing the Celtic legends Larry Bird and Danny Ainge talking about that playoff series. Nothing but praise. They realize that Michael was turning the game into something different. It was a special performance, peak young Jordan. As Bird said, he’s never seen anything like it before or after that series.

Pippen stews

I remember the narrative about Pippen being underpaid and asking for a trade. It was such a transition period for the NBA. In the 1980s you had players who had to have second jobs to support themselves in the off-season. Then the Bulls game through, turned the sport into a pop culture phenomenon, and suddenly the TV and marketing deals just swell up. Everyone wants a piece of what Jordan, Pippen and the Bulls created. But Pippen’s contract was locked in, long-term before the money really started pouring in. He was caught in the middle. He surely deserved to get some more coin for the popularity he was responsible for bringing to the game. Yet, as the documentary shows, the Bulls management weren’t willing to renegotiate. An unfortunate sour note in an otherwise soaring narrative of team dominance.

Late night WGN rebroadcasts

Way back in time, before streaming services, before Instagram, before Facebook even, there were a limited number of television channels. One of the national channels you could get anywhere in the US was the local Chicago station, WGN. So back before League Pass, if you wanted to, you could watch every Bulls game live if you wanted. 

Looking back now, there was something magical about tuning into WGN on a random weekday evening in January. There were no stakes. The playoffs lay waiting far on the other side of winter and spring. But there was basketball, and there was Michael Jordan. It’s funny thinking of this now, in this era of insanely hyped up YouTube mixtapes. On WGN, watching the Bulls was almost casual viewing. The crowds wouldn’t be that hyped in Milwaukee or Charlotte or wherever the Bulls happened to be playing. You would just dive through the worm hole and get to be a fly on the wall in stadiums across the US as Jordan and the Bulls would come to town. There was no fanfare, aside from the local Chicago announcers pulling out their best hyperbole to describe MJ’s latest aerial feat. 

But a lot of the time, the game just kind of dragged. And it was beautiful. You’d see Michael Jordan just moving around the court, sometimes not even touching the ball. But when he did, it was electric. The crowds he was visiting wouldn’t make much noise as he beat up on their home team, but he kept on at a constant clip. Racking up dunks and stats. Slowly building, almost behind the scenes, to something that would add up to be seen by all. These little nightcaps became a comfort food. Something to unwind to after a day of school and an evening of practice. A little competitive snack. Somewhere, in middle America, the Bulls were silently marching.