Robert Lipsyte - Michael Jordan: A Life Above the Rim

SUPERSTAR LINEUP

MICHAEL

JORDAN

A LIFE ABOVE THE RIM

ROBERT LIPSYTE

For Sam Lipsyte, my coauthor

Flying to threepeat, Michael Jordan soars above Charles Barkley and Oliver Miller of the Phoenix Suns during the 1993 NBA finals.

Threepeat.

The word hovered in the air like skywriting, like the name of a brand-new sneaker.

Threepeat.

It was 1993, and the Chicago Bulls were once again champions of the National Basketball Associationfor the third straight yearand the star of the team, Michael Jordan, was now without doubt the greatest to play the game. And the richest.

Michael Jordans face seemed to be everywhere, celebrating, selling, rising above the rim. He had worked hard for this fame, and no one could deny his incredible talent. But at least as important was his incredible timing. He was the right person, in the right sport, at the right moment in history. Timing is one of Michael Jordans great gifts, and he showed it over and over again on the court, with last-minute heroics and clutch shots. Fans take it for granted. But his timing is unbeatable in another sense, too. Basketball was ready for its ultimate superstar; America was ready for one hero all could love; and the people who sell sneakers and soft drinks were ready to create a commercial monster.

In this century only two other American athletes had such perfect timing. They were very different from Michael Jordan, but, like him, they reached levels of dominance within their sport and celebrity beyond it that no one had imagined an athlete could reach.

Babe Ruth helped make baseball the national pastime by saving it after the disgrace of the Black Sox scandal of 1919, when some members of the Chicago White Sox conspired to fix the 1919 World Series. The Babe came along, big and enthusiastic and full of fun, eating too much, burping and laughing, and teaching the country that home runs were more exciting than bunts and steals. He was without a doubt the greatest to play the game, and the richest of his time. But he played before television was invented. More people would see Michael Jordan in one night than had been able to see Babe Ruth in twenty years.

Muhammad Ali, the greatest heavyweight boxing champion of all, was television for a while. He took Americas living rooms by storm even when he was just talking. Early on, Ali played the clown, and his antics won him crowds and affection. But then he changed. He became religious. He assumed the responsibility of his role as a hero of the people. He understood the influence he had. Soon he began to speak for many people who felt silenced or forgotten. His path was far riskier than Michael Jordans. But Ali never regretted losing the chance to make a lot of money selling drinks and clothing.

Ruth was dedicated to the glory of his sport and the pleasures of his fame.

Ali stood up for peace and equality.

Other athletes achieved wonders, but never reaped the same celebrity.

All through the 1930s, 1940s and 1950s, Babe Didrikson was the greatest woman athlete of her timea basketball player, track star, golf champion and Olympic gold medal winner. She was merry and brave. But her era was marked by discrimination against any woman who threatened the male world with brilliance of mind or body. She never became the superstar her talent and energy deserved.

Jordan cheersand scoldsfrom the bench. A teammate who Jordan believes is not trying hard enough, or who lacks ability, will feel the rough side of that famous tongue.

In 1974, when Hank Aaron broke Babe Ruths career home run record of 714, more books were written about Ruth, long dead, than this hammering new hero. People said it was because Aaron was black or because he was shy or because Ruth was a legend America wanted to hold on to. Others said it was because football was then the hot sport and people didnt care all that much about baseball players. Whatever the reason, Aaron never seized his time as Michael Jordan did.

Michael Jordan stands mostly for Michael Jordan. He scored fifty points a game and made millions of dollars a year because he was the most astonishing athlete of his time and because his easy charm offended no one. His influence over the millions of kids who worship him is immense, so far as style goesthey shave their heads, wear his sneakers, shoot with their tongues hanging out like Mikebut he sends them few important messages.

Some say he is wasting an opportunity to use his influence to teach good values or encourage hard work and education. Others say it is unfair to demand that of him, that in the end he was just a basketball player.

Ultimately, thats true; he was just a basketball player.

But because Michael Jordan happened to be the best basketball player who ever played a game invented in America at the beginning of this sports-mad century, his story is also the story of this game and of America.

Is this an optical illusion? Could this man be walking on glass? Or is it Michael Jordan during the slam-dunk contest the day before the 1988 All-Star game in Chicago? One more question: Guess who won?

It is a story about race, money, greed and dreams, and how people discovered their own power of creation through the game.

It is the story of a round ball soaring in a long arc across a century of American history and falling into the hands of a skinny college freshman from North Carolina who happened to be on national television with millions watching.

It is the story of The Shot.

Now, thats timing.

Early that morning, the freshman later confessed, a strange feeling came over him and a daydream unreeled in his head.

The clocks last seconds tick away as thousands stand in silence, all eyes on a ball hurtling toward the outstretched fingers of the gangly freshman alone in the corner. He snatches the pass, drbbles a step, then launches himself off the court. He seems to rise forever, and everyone, on the floor, in the stands, in living rooms and barrooms across the sports-crazed nation, wonders if he will ever come down. But now he has stopped rising, he is frozen in space for an endless split second, time enough to launch the ball on a long soft journey. Glory or guilt, everything comes down to his shot.

A silly scenario, really, the same goofy fantasy that plays through the mind of every boy and girl shooting jumpers alone in a gym or on an empty playground in the fading twilight.

The shot, the swish, the victory, and of course the adoration of screaming fans.