He put it off for about 10 minutes after he first materialized in a United Center hallway.
For 10 awkward minutes that felt like 20, Michael Jordan delayed the walk he once made a regal rite of game night–down the hallway, past the visitors’ locker room to his Bulls’ sanctuary, media mob in tow. For now the small army of minicams and tape recorders was held off by a security guard as Jordan, back to the media, made nervous small talk with several old buddies.
Believe us, Michael, we didn’t want to hound you like some Elvis come back to life any more than you wanted to go through your first visit back.
But what are we supposed to do, shrug and yawn at your return to the House that You Built? Dismiss you as a traitor who warned Tracy McGrady and Eddie Jones not to sign with Jerry Krause? Treat you like just another general manager of just another overpaid, underachieving NBA team?
Obviously, if Jordan were GM of the home team, none of this would be happening. He would be a UC fixture instead of an Elvis. McGrady and Jones probably would be Bulls–unless Jordan had convinced Grant Hill and Tim Duncan to come to Chicago.
But no, Jerry Reinsdorf remained true blue to GM/confidant Krause. Such pathetically arrogant loyalty. Now, perhaps, Krause dreams of replacing Jordan’s statue with one of himself, fists clenched before his victoriously scrunched face.
So now Jordan and Chicago were faced with one final rite. Since his center-court retirement address on Jan. 14, 1999, he had refused to set foot in the United Center for a Bulls game. But thanks to the Bulls’ flagship station WMVP-AM 1000, word spread Tuesday that His Ex-Majesty would show up to watch his Wizards play an exhibition.
What better way to decrease no-shows? Watching Jordan in a luxury box certainly beats watching Dragan Tarlac’s belated debut.
Tarlac, the 6-foot-11-inch Yugoslav, was the kind of Euro-discovery that Jordan once ridiculed Krause for drafting. Make no mistake, Jordan still despises Krause as much as he cherishes his Bulls memories and friendships. Bulls insiders believe Jordan helped sabotage Krause’s free-agent plans, but if he did, it was only by telling the truth about what an insufferable egomaniac Krause can be.
Can’t blame Jordan for that.
But he’s still able to chat and chuckle with former teammate and Bulls’ broadcaster John Paxson and play-by-play man Neil Funk. That’s what Jordan did when he arrived with running buddies Richard Dent, the former Bears force, and Rod Higgins, his assistant GM.
As Paxson would say later: “We mostly just talked about his team, how he’s trying to clear cap room for next year. But obviously coming back here is pretty awkward for him.”
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Now Jordan turned and began what would be a painfully short walk. This time he would make a quick left into the visitors’ locker room. He answered frantic questions as he glided with that great old pigeon-toed gait that said he was Michael Jordan and the rest of us were not. He wore a silvery suit with–unless eyes deceived–gold highlights, set off by monochromatic black tie on black shirt.
He managed a sarcastic smile as he said of the media crush, “I definitely don’t miss this.” But you know he does.
Does he think about what it would be like running the Bulls? “It’s always a thought, but only a thought. We’ll never know.” So why did he come? “I’ve got to support my team.” Which team? “The one I work for.”
Those words were a dagger in his heart as well as ours.
While Reinsdorf insists he offered Jordan a position with the Bulls, Reinsdorf wouldn’t consider moving Krause out of Jordan’s way. Obviously, after Jordan won them six rings, the Jerrys wanted to show us they had far more to do with the dynasty than any of us ever believed. They wanted to win one by themselves. They had better live to be 100.
Where did Jordan wind up sitting? In an end-zone box, instead of Reinsdorf’s center-court suite. It wasn’t immediately known whether this was Jordan’s choice or Reinsdorf’s. Inconceivable: Jordan watching from what, by his standards, were the cheap seats.
But at least this served as some perverse sort of closure. It’s officially over, though some in Chicago might never quite get over it.
He has returned as a Wizard. Chicago’s most prized sports possession ever–the one thing New York envied about the Second City–is no longer Chicago’s.