“My love for the game is so strong. I don't see myself doing anything other than play the game of basketball".

That’s what he said drenched in champagne after winning the NBA Finals, a series he masterfully dominated averaging an NBA record 41 points per game, earning his third straight Finals MVP.

1993 was a historic year for the NBA. The Chicago Bulls became only the third team to win three titles in a row. Having done it in an era of 28 teams of parity and defense incomparably more sophisticated, the feat was more Herculean and gave Chicago Bulls credence as one of the best teams in History. But regardless of the opinion of pundits and laymen, the NBA was being celebrated unlike before.

Then it started to happen.

It was easy to get lost in the celebration, debates and marketing in the months that ensued after clinching the title but the most glaring telltale that something was going on in his head happened much earlier.  Amidst the hysteria in the locker room, moments prior to the obligatory interview, he asked “Do I have to do this? Can I be alone for a few moments?”.

Whatever he couldn’t come to terms with at the time perhaps was put in perspective when James Jordan, his father and best friend, was found dead in August in what later was proven to be a result of indiscriminate shooting.

All quiet. The media whom he had withdrawn from during the playoffs because of their innuendo that he gambled compulsively gave him the time and space for his grief.

In late September, whispers were getting louder that he was hanging up his Air Jordans. For good. Consistently voted as one of the “press-friendly athletes” for years, people knew that he dodged reporters for a different reason after he did the ceremonial pitch during the major leagues opening day.

And then it happened.

***

The world entered a dark age on Oct 6, 1993.

In a press conference attended by hundreds of reporters, watched by everyone on the planet, Michael Jordan, all of 30,---at the apex of his career---shocked the world at the announcement of his retirement from the game he alone is perfect for.

(For the twilight generation who bastardize art because they know nothing about it, Google the word “Genius”. It’s the one word you cannot use to describe anyone from your time.)

It’s a moment in history people couldn’t fathom. At least not immediately. We’ve lost geniuses to death throughout centuries. In MJ, however, we had a Beethoven who could still compose drifting music or a Michaelangelo who’s yet to paint his Sistine Chapel and he opted to call it quits.

“When I lose the sense of motivation and the sense of to prove something to myself as a basketball player, then it’s time for me to walk away from the game of basketball.” cited Jordan as his principal reason for leaving. Later, there were conspiracy theories on his sudden retirement but it’s nothing more than that. A bunch of idle minds stringing and twisting “facts’. No one could say anything against his reason. And because of his unparalleled mastery of the game, what he said was no rhetoric.

As he has been the past 9 years, MJ was his immaculate self in handling the press. Even romantic. When asked what he’d do from that point forward, he just said “Watch the grass grow and cut it.”

Challenge has dissipated. The thrill is gone.

And so was The Maestro.

***

This is why I gravitate to geniuses. They do what they do only because of love.

So when I caught wind of MJ--a genius (have you googled the term?)--- making a go for Baseball, I didn’t just follow it. I documented his baseball journey. Yes, documented. His practices. The day he signed the contract. His first game. His next. His first bat. Every swing. Every hit. More misses. Strike outs. The Bus he bought his team. The first and only home run he had that happened before his Father’s birthday.

For all the love he was exuding in baseball, basketball followed him. And you could tell he still wanted to lace ‘em up! In an interview, a reporter nonchalantly asked him if he feels an itch to return which he abruptly dismissed but not without saying “I can always come back and average 32 points a game.” His baseball teammates who played pick up games against him was subjected in his wrath. After making a jump shot with Jordan in his face, one celebrated by saying “now I can tell my grandchildren that I kicked Jordan’s ass”. No sooner did he defend again than MJ dunked on his face saying “Michael Jordan kicked your ass! That’s all you’re gonna be telling them.”

He never passed up the chance to show that he’s still the best. At Scottie Pippen’s All  Star Charity game, he scored 52 points on array of fadeaways, dazzling dunks and gorgeous reverse layups.

After the game, he said “I had a lot of fun but there’s another game that’s waiting for me”.

Was there?

***

I don’t cheat. I’d like to believe I don’t lie. But for MJ, I’d steal.

It was January 1995. This was right around when the Internet was nowhere near its prevalence today. I was at Manila Penninsula Hotel having breakfast. The Greatest Ever was on the cover of Newsweek Magazine. Unfortunately, it was a US edition and there was no way to get copy. There were two detailed articles on the impending lockout in Major League Baseball and how it affects Jordan’s stint.

But it was too lengthy. I thought of tearing it but it was in different sections of the magazine. So I decided to continue reading at home ;-).

One writer, who perhaps lived under a rock and knew nothing of MJ, noted the “opportunity” it would give Jordan to play in the majors. (Dumb, isn’t it?). The other, however, cited that MJ will not let anyone to use him and lure people to buy tickets. There was no way he’d be some side show. He was in baseball for the purity of it.

The NBA, meanwhile, was a grotesque game played by brats. As talented as the new players, they were all in it for the money.  Teams didn’t have genuine leadership. The league was in dire need of a hero. 

***

                                      “I’m back.”

                                                            ---Michael Jordan, March 19, 1995

Two words set the world on fire!

And my pager---yes, I’m nearly 40 years old---was beeping incessantly with messages even from people I didn’t know. It read “I feel you...you’re the happiest man on the planet” or “I told you he’d return” from my Taekwondo coach, Stephen Fernandez. 

Wearing no. 45, Michael Jordan is back!

That 17-game span before the playoffs was as memorable as anything in my life. The buzzer beater game against Atlanta. The double nickel against the Knicks. His first game in the United Center. They were all breath-taking moments for me.

The Bulls would eventually lose to the young guns of Orlando Magic in the second round of the Playoffs. After that series, everyone called him slow and old. He’s lost this, he’s lost that.

Doubting MJ? Questioning his decision? Challenging him?

Big mistake!

Each season, thereafter, he added to the legend. Starting with leading the Bulls to a historic 72-10 season.  The Flu Game in Game 5 of 1997 NBA Finals. Who can forget the score-steal-score at the end of Game 6 1998 NBA Finals? Each of the last three seasons he played wearing a Bulls uniform, MJ was the last man standing in June.

***

For all the highlights, what stands out is one that happened in the locker room and told by his Croatian teammate Toni Kukoc.

He found MJ sitting on the floor, playing a game on his Mac placed on his lap. Kukoc asked him “Is that all you use that for?”. MJ, ever so focused, didn’t say a word as though he heard nothing.

To catch his attention, Kukoc needled him saying “you’re losing”. And each time, MJ would say “Don’t give up on me just yet.”

To that point, MJ’s shooting game to game went from spectacular to horrendous. He was inconsistent.

“You’re losing.” “Don’t give up on me just yet.” “You’re losing.” “Don’t give up on me just yet.”

The game against Atlanta went down the wire. With 5.9 seconds left on the clock, the Bulls were down by a point. Pippen inbounded the ball to MJ who dribbled three quarters of the court as Steve Smith defended him backpedaling.

From the foul line, MJ pulled up and swished at the buzzer.

MJ pounded the floor three times.

Just before he went to the locker room, he looked for Toni Kukoc and said what’s he’s been telling him an hour earlier.

“Don’t give up on me just yet.”

***