Michael Jordan’s fadeaway jump shot comes with sound effects, courtesy of New Jersey coach John Calipari.
“Boom, da bang, da bing,” Calipari said, a few noises short.
To do him justice, Jordan would have required more than a dozen more “bings” and “bangs,” and after another one of those magic Michael nights, there might not have been enough breath left in Calipari, in the arena, in the entire greater New York/New Jersey area to do it.
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The Jersey swamp got what Jordan usually saves for across the river, over where the streets are harder, the lights are brighter and the opinions matter more.
The Nets, and the rest of us, got the full Michael.
“I’ve been playing against Michael for eight years,” said Kendall Gill, who was also supposed to be guarding him, “and I’ve never seen him shoot the ball like that.”
“Maybe there is something about this area,” Jordan said. “I just get the feeling.”
As a rule, Jordan does not waste his specialness on the suburbs, nor so early in the playoffs, but time grows short and who knows if the Knicks and Madison Square Garden will be there again.
And who knows how often Jordan can, as he describes, find his singular “rhythm,” that place and pace where nothing matters but his willingness to exploit it.
“Look at MJ, man. Wow,” Jayson Williams said, summing it up nicely.
Jordan had to settle not for the Garden but for the Garden State, and not the Big Apple but the Bad Apple, if the local aroma is any clue.
Maybe this was the most auspicious 38 points Jordan ever scored, a puny total in the Michael legend but not one he has lately arrived at so easily.
“The way he has been shooting,” Phil Jackson said, “the Nets gave him some open shots. There wasn’t anyone within 20 feet of the first one.”
That’s an original defense on Jordan–indifference.
In fact, the Nets played defense against all the Bulls as if they were prom dates. This was a night when even Scott Burrell could score 23, when any Bull who cared to could have padded his ego.
In fact, by game’s end, Jordan was rebounding Dennis Rodman’s shot or kicking the ball out to Rodman for three-pointers. This was cats playing with string and a disgraceful way for New Jersey to finish.
“We fought like heck,” Calipari insisted. No, they fought like conscientious objectors, or invalids, which they somewhat were.
During the game three of their players were left on the floor while the Bulls merely stepped over the bodies and smirked.
“They’re killers,” Calipari said with admiration. “They’re not going to pick you up and dust you off.”
What the Bulls can carry from this short series to the next is (1) getting it over quickly and (2) the re-establishment of Jordan.
“I think we sent a note to other playoff teams,” Jackson allowed.
Jordan missed only one shot in the first half, that a shot-clock heave, and he missed only six for the night, and he disputed Jackson’s assessment that he was not guarded closely.
“I made some tough shots,” Jordan said. “I used my head-and-shoulder fake to get open. My rhythm was on as soon as I hit the floor. It has been a while.”
Caution is still prudent, even though the Bulls swept the Nets. For, in truth, the other championship Bulls teams would have made all the games like the last one.
They would have tossed these guys aside between nines of Jordan’s golf game.
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The Bulls would not have waited until a 20-point lead in the fourth quarter of Game 3 to show their insolence, chortling at their own antics. The Bulls have to be as relieved as their fans to have found a way to look like themselves.
A special Jordan night should not seem so comforting. Rodman’s rebound from being outrebounded by Williams in the first game should not seem so commendable. A breakout game from Burrell should not seem so welcome. A 2-for-12 shooting night from Scottie Pippen should not be overlooked.
The Repeat of the Three-Peat is still a championship in progress, though the progress is at least now evident.
There is that.