by Sam Smith
There was a front-page column in the Sun-Times suggesting the book would become the Bulls’ biggest obstacle to repeating, and a local and national hysteria commenced: Did Jordan really punch Will Perdue? Did Jordan try to freeze out Bill Cartwright? Was Jordan a mere mortal?
Since I had written the book, I was somewhat stunned by the reaction, which even forced me to stay away from a few Bulls games. I wasn’t covering the team on a day-to-day basis anymore, having taken over the entire NBA beat, but the NBA in Chicago is the Bulls, so I could never be far from the team. I felt the book was an honest, in-depth look at an NBA team going through a season and what the group dynamic was like when you were playing with the biggest star in the history of team sports. I tried to depict everyone fairly, and as for Jordan, I believed he came through strong if sometimes contentious, impatient if also earnest, sometimes selfish and self-centered, a better leader than many believed, with a quick, abrasive wit. In essence, he is a human being with flaws, just like the rest of us, except for his skill. “Be like Mike,” reviewer Bob Ford wrote in the Philadelphia Inquirer, “hell, we already are.”
But the reaction, which played a big role in making this book a bestseller, also stunned Jordan, though in a more personal way. Jackson, ever the psychologist, tried to use the controversy to bring the team closer, telling players they had to bond more as a group now with such external distractions licking at their heels because they were champions. He tried to soothe Jordan, saying this might help, because now he wouldn’t have to continue to live up to the “perfect, no mistakes” image created for him.
Later in the season, after Jordan received what some said was a “Stern warning” from NBA commissioner David Stern about his gambling cronies, Jordan reflected that “I lead two lives. I’m projected to be a 38-, 39-year-old mature person who has experienced life to the fullest … but the other side of me is a 29-year-old who never really got the chance to experience his success with friends and maybe do some of the crazy things that 27-year-olds will do. I think about people who say, ‘God, I wish I could be Michael Jordan for one day.’ Well, it’s not just a day. You’ve got to see the pros and cons … you have to talk about not being able to go to a movie, a restaurant, shopping … without being bothered. It’s not always fair.”
But Jordan was not about to have someone else, namely me, decide when he was to become human. The Bulls would spend the last two weeks of November sweeping a Western Conference road trip, including a thrilling 116–114 double overtime win in Portland when the Trail Blazers seemed to—and the Bulls would hear this again—self-destruct late in the game. But Jordan, at first welcoming the respite from the Chicago media, drew questions about his character and personality, and about The Jordan Rules, wherever the team went. It would become wearying.
I’d had a good relationship with Jordan until the book was published. We didn’t socialize away from games, but talked easily around the locker room, as Jordan likes to do with most reporters. When I returned to the team in December, he ignored me, but in January, when I traveled with the team and had to ask him questions, he began to respond. The first time I came into the locker room in December, he looked at me, and then down, not saying anything. When I had to approach him for the first time with a question during a January road trip, he put his head down for about 30 seconds after I asked the question. I stood in front of him. He looked up, though not at me, and answered. That relationship existed for the rest of the season. After that first question, when reporters were cleared from the locker room, he went over to Grant and asked if he’d put me up to asking a question. He hadn’t. It was my job. My relationship remained good with the coaching staff and the rest of the team, several of whom called me at home in the weeks after the book was published to privately offer their support. I appreciated it, but wouldn’t need it as much as did Jordan, who began to feel the weight of controversy for the first time, of the Olympic team, the White House, the book, Johnson’s illness, and the gambling.
Playfully taunting rookie center Dikembe Mutombo with seconds left in a Nov. 23 win over the Nuggets, Jordan shot a free throw with his eyes closed, one of the tricks he’d developed over the years, to confirm that Mutombo, as threatened, hadn’t blocked a Jordan shot that night. “This one’s for you,” Jordan laughed as he shot. But, for the most part, the joy seemed to be gone from Jordan’s game.
Stacey King was playing remarkably well as a starter for the injured Cartwright after Will Perdue was lifted after a few ineffective starts. The knife always cuts deeply among the Bulls, and taking their cue from Krause, who had long promised Perdue would become another Bill Walton, the players were calling Perdue “Will Walton.” King would have back-to-back 23- and 22-point games as a starter, but despite playing 64 minutes in the two games, he had just six rebounds. Returning to the bench after Cartwright recovered, he would go through a 13-game stretch in which he had a total of two defensive rebounds. As the season wore on, though, Krause continued to insist to Jackson that King get his playing time or they’d never be able to trade him. Jackson would comply, but by playoff time, the coach had settled on the hyperkinetic Scott Williams ahead of King.
The 76ers broke the Bulls’ 14-game winning streak on Dec. 7, but it didn’t seem like Pearl Harbor Day to Jordan until a week later. The Charlotte (N.C.) Observer reported on Dec. 13 that federal officials had seized $57,000 from James “Slim” Bouler, a convicted cocaine dealer, and alleged he’d won it playing golf with Jordan on that Hilton Head Island trip in October. Jordan said it was a loan, then refused to comment after talking to his attorney. But he did almost get into a fight with Knicks’ rookie Greg Anthony that night after a seemingly harmless foul. “I wasn’t feeling that well, so I was a little short tempered,” Jordan admitted.
In the locker room, Jordan seemed to be growing more remote, even frightened, to his teammates. They wouldn’t miss the opportunity to wield the knife he so often drew. “Hey, Scarface,” they’d shout at Jordan, or “Five-card Charlie.” Jordan took it well, but was also now practicing at a firing range with a laser-sighted pistol. Some players wondered if he was fearful because of the investigation.
He clearly was distracted, and when the Lakers came to play the Bulls on Dec. 17, Jordan and Johnson convened extraordinary press conferences with Johnson traveling with his former team. Jordan talked about his depression, given the events of recent weeks after being named Sports Illustrated’s Sportsman of the Year; Johnson warned the media not to run Jordan out of the game, because they’d never see another like him. Johnson said he would console Jordan later. Who had AIDS? one columnist wondered afterward. Jordan would go on to miss 10 straight shots to end the game as the Bulls lost at home.
The surreal nature of the press conferences seemed to jolt even Jordan back to reality. “I haven’t enjoyed things like I should lately,” he said. “I’ve always enjoyed the game, and it’s time to get back to that.”
That wouldn’t really come until January as Jordan, after a brilliant shooting and scoring November, slumped through December, three times in four games failing to score 20 points. But after that loss to the Lakers, the Bulls finished the month with six straight wins, including a Christmas Day walloping of the Celtics in the Stadium, and then after a loss in Milwaukee to open the new year, they ripped through the remainder of the month with 13 straight wins. That brought their record to an astounding 37–5 heading out for their last western trip of the season. The talk no longer was of Jordan’s problems, although it appeared Jordan was seriously injured after taking a hard fall against the Heat in Miami on Jan. 8. The trainer and Jackson rushed over. “I was expecting to find blood,” Jackson related later. “Instead, we saw this beautiful blonde in the front row. That’s why we stayed out there so long.” The Bulls were having fun now, and it was the league that wasn’t laughing, trying to find out whether anyone could stop the Bulls, and whether the Bulls could break the league’s all-time win record of seventy in one season.
Jackson tr
ied to downplay the talk of seventy wins, but Jordan felt “nothing is unrealistic” and Cartwright noted the Bulls won sixty-one easily in 1990–91. “We didn’t feel like we were stretched by the end of the year,” he said. “Certainly, seventy is within our grasp.”
But Jackson had other concerns as he took his turn in the Bulls’ salary negotiation woodshed. Months of bitter talks with Krause led to threats by both sides of leaving and several weeks of the coach and general manager not speaking before Jackson eventually signed a three-year, $2.5 million extension through the 1995–96 season, which Jackson speculated would be his last, just as Jordan has.
January’s highlight was the final death of the Pistons—two Bulls wins within a week: first 87–85 in Detroit, then 117–93 in the Stadium, and a serious wounding of the Jordan-Isiah Thomas feud. Before that Jan. 24 game, the Stadium lights went off, prompting a long pregame delay. Thomas approached Jordan at midcourt and told him that others around them, friends and advisors, were helping their feud fester. Thomas was willing to start anew if Jordan would. Jordan agreed they should get together socially.
“We have so much room for improvement,” said Grant as the Bulls prepared to make the three-team Texas swing (“the taco three,” Jackson called it) to close January. “The sky’s the limit.” But Grant continued to see darkening clouds about his role. Oh, sure, he had grown accustomed to the verbal whippings from Jackson when he was frustrated with other players, to the lack of involvement in the offense even when he was asked to defend 94 feet in the trap and routinely cover for all-defensive team players Jordan and Pippen. However, he still wondered about his future with the Bulls.
As did owner Reinsdorf. “I can’t imagine what I was thinking,” he told an associate about Grant’s contract.
He’d signed Grant to a three-year, $6 million extension after the 1989–90 season. It would end after the 1993–94 season, when Grant was 28. He would then be an unrestricted free agent, with the Bulls unable to match an offer for him. And Grant wasn’t about to tie himself to the Bulls again so quickly. He told his agent, Jimmy Sexton, to take just two years on a multi-year shoe contract offer and not go beyond his current Bulls’ contract. He would try the open market. Tell the Bulls he’d sign for $4 million per season or nothing. Grant knew that would mean trouble for the Bulls, because Jordan earned $3.9 million per season through the end of his contract in 1995–96 and Reinsdorf vowed not to pay anyone more than Jordan was paid.
Grant wasn’t any more fulfilled when word came before the Jan. 28 San Antonio game that he had failed to join Jordan and Pippen on the All-Star team. Grant and the team were as upset at the snub of Grant as they were about the inclusion of three Pistons—Thomas, Joe Dumars, and Dennis Rodman. “We’re 14 games ahead of them,” noted Pippen.
But the lead was about to shrink.
The Bulls lost to the Spurs and Rockets—the 70-victory dream starting to fade—and defeated the Mavericks and then the Lakers. Jordan threw in a little showmanship against the Lakers when he palmed the ball in front of James Worthy, then pulled it back and drove by Worthy for a layup, a play Jordan would later rank among his best moves ever. The next night in Salt Lake City, Jordan would offer one of his worst.
The Bulls and Jazz slugged it out through three overtimes and rolled off a highlight tape: Jordan hitting a three-pointer to tie the game after one overtime and then John Stockton hitting a three-pointer to tie in the second overtime after Jordan missed two free throws. Finally, Jordan would be called for a foul against Jeff Malone that would decide the game for the Jazz in the third overtime. Jordan blew up at the call, bumping referee Tommie Wood, which resulted in a one-game suspension—the Phoenix game, the last stop on the trip before the All-Star game.
On the flight to Phoenix, Jordan angrily played the foul over and over, but realizing he’d probably be suspended, he began making plans to head for Orlando a day early and for an extra day of golf. The controversies were far from over, but the season was more than half over and it was time to relax. The talk among Jordan, Pippen and several Olympians and All-Stars against whom they played the previous week included discussion of Johnson’s All-Star game participation. Many players said they were uncomfortable about the prospect and talked briefly about a boycott. But the talk was never serious, and most had their fears allayed after meeting with doctors and Johnson in Orlando.
Jordan also had added a new controversy: By his rights, although he felt he was a pawn in this battle, his representatives and commercial sponsors withdrew his marketing rights of T-shirts and similar items from the NBA. So the NBA printed All-Star T-shirts with every player but Jordan. Again, he appeared to be making his own rules. The national columnists bashed Jordan for blatant self-interest and greed. He could only laugh ironically this time. He knew he was being used, but couldn’t afford to say so. He’d play golf and remain silent about this one.
Craig Hodges would win another three-point shooting title at All-Star weekend, his third straight. And it would be a welcome relief from a tumultuous season for him in which his estranged wife was arrested for trying to ignite him with gasoline. He’d heard the Bulls would buy out his option year of 1992–93, so he was hoping to catch the eye of some European talent scouts.
“Now it’s for maximum dollar potential,” he said somewhat sadly, being a Chicago native. “It’s time to look for green and greener pastures.”
A rosy face was what everyone was placing on All-Star weekend, though, trying to turn it into a triumphant farewell party for the beloved Johnson, who would not disappoint, providing a storybook ending, theatrically going one-on-one with both Jordan and Isiah Thomas and then swishing a memorable three-point shot to end the game, a 153–113 West victory.
Phil Jackson had earned the head coaching job for the Eastern Conference stars and took his coaches along. The game would not be close, but it was instructive. The Bulls’ coaches watched Celtics’ star Reggie Lewis fumble around almost in fear, Rodman be virtually unable to make a layup and Brad Daugherty, Kevin Willis, and Michael Adams seemingly be overmatched. They talked about it on the way back to the hotel. In Jordan, Pippen, and Horace Grant, they believed they had perhaps three of the five best players in the conference, and some of their role players seemed more capable than the All-Stars.
“It made us feel even better about our team,” admitted assistant John Bach.
The Bulls came out of the All-Star break with back-to-back wins over the Knicks, but Jackson would see a harbinger for the playoffs. New coach Pat Riley had the Knicks playing hard and tough. Their holding and bumping, Jackson knew, wouldn’t be so effective in the regular season, but the playoffs were another story. The Bulls had not lost to the Knicks for more than two years, but Jackson feared them more in the playoffs than any other opponent.
The talk about 70 wins had subsided with four losses in six games, but with the trading deadline approaching, there was other discussion. Rumors sprung up around guard B.J. Armstrong again. He wasn’t happy in his backup role, but had vowed to keep his complaints in house this season.
“I don’t think individually I’ll ever attain here what I’d like,” admitted Armstrong, “but team-wise there are things to achieve. I’m never going to accept not being a starter, but I have my role on this team.”
And Armstrong would play it well, averaging 16.7 when called upon for John Paxson in three starts, keeping his overall average at about 10 to become the only consistent scorer off the bench. But he still failed to mesh with Jordan and Paxson, and Jordan would continue to ride him for mistakes. Against the Magic a few weeks later, with Sam Vincent scoring 18 points early, Jordan was screaming at Armstrong: “The guy hasn’t played all year and he’s killing you. Get on him!” Likewise, Armstrong was growing more independent, choosing now to pull up more often on the break and shoot even with Jordan to his side. It was a tactic that often earned Armstrong a quick hook from Jackson, and produced a few bench blowups between the coach and player. Armstrong would fin
ally open up in the playoffs after Jackson criticized the bench: Armstrong promised not to complain publicly, so Jackson shouldn’t, either. But for the record, Armstrong was remaining a team guy.
Only occasionally were there other rumbles, mostly from Scott Williams and Cliff Levingston, who complained about lack of playing time. “I’m tired of them trying to stroke me,” said Williams. “You play hard, but then are pulled because player X or Y [namely King] has to have so many minutes.”
The Cavaliers finally broke a long losing streak to the Bulls with a narrow win in the Stadium on Feb. 17, and the Pistons finally got on the board against the Bulls later that month in Auburn Hills. But still, the Bulls were 45–11 after that Detroit game, with the rest of the league battling to be a playoff sacrifice.
And the Bulls made that point clearly in what they believed would be the last meaningful game of the season, against the West’s best, the Portland Trail Blazers, in the Stadium on March 1, on national TV. It wasn’t even close, the Bulls winning 111–91. The Trail Blazers virtually self-destructed again, following the script Jackson had offered in pregame interviews, when he said Portland would come apart if the Bulls were patient and showed them how.
“No offense,” said Pippen, “but we’re a much smarter team and we have role models on the court.”
The comments would infuriate the Trail Blazers, whose coach, Rick Adelman, a week later would note the Bulls’ losing a 20-point fourth-quarter lead, falling to Orlando, and say, “They must not have been very smart to do that.” That would be the second big lead in ten days the Bulls lost. Earlier, they’d led Indiana by 22 at home but lost by two after Pippen missed a late free throw and kicked the ball into the stands. Reggie Miller taunted Pippen before the free throw: “Don’t shoot it long, Olympian. Don’t miss, superstar.”
