And what better place to descend upon than New York City, a town that, at all times, views itself as the center of the universe. On Tuesday night that view was more correct than not. Because it was midway between two epic symbols–a blight that spoke to the world’s staggering capacity for evil and a raucous Yankee Stadium that spoke to the resilience of a great city–that Michael made his latest and, hopefully, last NBA comeback. And though New York has overflowed with A-list celebrities in the aftermath of Sept. 11, Jordan retains his singular stature. Spike Lee auctioned off his second courtside seat and netted $101,300 for the firefighters’ relief fund. (How much, one wonders, if you didn’t have to sit with Spike?) “Whenever Michael comes to [Madison Square] Garden, he takes it to another level,” said Lee, whose companion for the evening was 12-year-old Jessica Rubio, the daughter of a firefighter killed in last month’s tragedy. “He knows this is the mecca and that on the greatest stage the greatest artists always perform. I think he goes for 40.”
Jordan wasn’t talking that kind of trash or indeed anything before the game and took the floor a mere 13 minutes before the lineups were introduced. But when he stepped onto the court, the collective gasp of the crowd was thunderous. Jordan’s late entry had everyone–from the stars courtside to the cheap-seaters (make that relatively cheap) to the 500 press in attendance, about five times the normal count for a Knicks opener–nervously wondering, “Where’s Michael?” Jordan may have simply been recharging from what had already been an emotionally taxing New York reentry. He had toured Ground Zero, terming it “overwhelming,” and had officially closed the New York Stock Exchange. Against that backdrop, Jordan’s understated take on his Washington Wizards debut revealed his customary perfect pitch. “Whatever happens happens,” said the 38-year-old superstar, he of the six NBA championship rings, five MVP trophies and 10 league-scoring titles.
Not surprisingly, Jordan proved to have the gift of prophecy, too. Because whatever happened did happen. What he lacked was any spare miracles. Because the game and the man turned out not to be no match for the hype and pregame frenzy. Nor, with our preseason preview, did it prove to be much of a surprise–except perhaps to Spike Lee. In a 93-91 loss, Jordan appears to be a good player on what remains a very bad team. And given the chance to reprise his familiar late-game heroics, Jordan stumbled, turning over the ball a couple times and clanging a three-pointer in the waning seconds that would have tied the game. “I’m a little older,” said Jordan afterward, ever stylish in a green suit, dark blue shirt and yellow tie. “The game is a little different. But I feel good.”
Jordan couldn’t have felt too good about what were rather pedestrian numbers–19 points on 7-for-21 shooting, 5 rebounds and 6 assists–at least by his lofty standards. (It may be worth noting that in his 1995 comeback game with the Chicago Bulls, after his baseball sabbatical, his line was almost identical: 19 points, 6 rebounds, 6 assists.) Moreover, though Jordan led his team with 37 minutes played, the Wizards actually outscored the Knicks by eight points during Michael’s two stints on the bench. But, as always, numbers didn’t tell the full story of the many changes that time has wrought. Though he is now listed as the small forward, Jordan played largely a point-guard role, walking the ball up the court slowly in an apparent effort to conserve energy. With double-teams run at him whenever he held the ball outside, Jordan’s passing was still deft. And he could have easily had double-digit assists if Washington’s big men didn’t have such bad hands to go with their lousy shots.
Yet there were scant signs of the multifaceted offensive game of Jordan’s Bulls heyday. Despite a small, slow Knicks front line, Jordan seldom tried to penetrate. Apart from one slashing, scoring move to the hoop early in the game, he seemed content to drift along the perimeter. Of his 21 shots, 18 were outside jump shots, mostly from medium range. TBS commentator Charles Barkley, whose critical comments on Jordan’s comeback appears to have caused a rift between the two old friends, damned Jordan’s play with faint praise. “Now he’s just a good ballplayer who’s going to have some great days,” says Barkley, who may be right, but appears to be suffering from a bad case of comeback envy.
It’s certainly too early to make too much of Jordan’s sloppy shooting night, though after the game reporters were referring to him jokingly as “Airball Jordan.” “I never judge a guy’s game by what he shoots,” said Wizards coach Doug Collins, who also coached Jordan in his prechampionship days with the Bulls. “If he had made three more shots, we’d be saying, ‘Wow what a great game he had!’” Still, shooting is usually what first betrays aging NBA ballplayers, as their legs start to falter. For all the brilliant memories of Jordan’s final championship season with the Bulls, his shooting marks that year–field-goal, free-throw and three-point percentages–were all the worst of his career. After the Knicks game, Jordan said his shooting might have been affected by a five-day layoff from practice because of knee pain. “I didn’t feel any aches and pains tonight,” he said. “But maybe it hurt me not shooting the ball for a few days.”
Plenty more hurt awaits Jordan in what will likely be a seasonlong endurance test. Jordan is surrounded by a team of no-names who would have been destined to remain so had Jordan not reupped. (The exception is Christian Laettner, a big-name college star who in eight seasons with four different teams has proved to be a journeyman pro.) Kwame Brown, the high-schooler on whom Jordan banked the Wizards future by making him the No. 1 pick in the NBA draft, looked decidedly not ready for prime time. But Jordan has already demonstrated a unique mindset for a superstar athlete. He can find meaning in endeavors where the meaning eludes even his adulatory fans let alone the cynics in the press. After all, for a couple of seasons he was willing to be a poor minor-league baseball player rather than the best basketball player in the world.
It will be far more of a test for his body. That he starts the season with a nagging knee problem, with a finger problem (stemming from a misadventure with a cigar cutter more than three years ago) and with other dings does not portend well for how his body will hold up through the rigors of an 82-game NBA schedule. (There appears no likelihood that he’ll have to worry about any more than 82.) It may prove to be something of an endurance test for his fans, too. His first three games are on national TV and basketball fans in every NBA city have gobbled up tickets to glimpse the greatest sports icon of the modern era. One game does not a season make. But there appears at least a strong possibility that the biggest thrill will be nothing more than the exercise in nostalgia.
