MJ's wizardry will go only so far

Sporting News, The, Jan 31, 2000 by Dave Kindred

For those Michael Jordan idolaters who with tears of unalloyed joy have again ascended to levels of ecstasy that they feared might forever be out of reach, here are five questions brought up by MJ's transformation from carpooler/golfer/shoe salesman to president of basketball operations for the Washington Wizards, with responsibility for every decision involving coaches, players and staff:

Question No. 1: When assistant coach Tex Winter installed the triangle offense that would become the foundation strategy of the Bulls' six world championship teams, which player vociferously opposed the offense because it created what he sarcastically referred to as "equal opportunity" for players who hadn't earned their shots?

Question No. 2: When Winter said every player had to sacrifice a little of himself for the good of the whole and used the coaching adage, "There's no `I' in the word team," which Chicago player responded, "There is in the word `win'"?

Question No. 3: When Phil Jackson became coach of the Bulls, which player so adamantly resisted the coach's plans that author David Halberstam later would write, "And so that year a struggle began between Phil Jackson and his superstar, both of them exceptionally stubborn"?

Question No. 4: When the Bulls' general manager, Jerry Krause, who had hired Winter and Jackson, decided on the daring concept of building a championship team around a shooting guard and so traded forward Charles Oakley to get an intelligent defensive stalwart in the middle, Bill Cartwright, which Bulls player complained long and loudly that the deal was a lousy one because now the team had no "cop" to protect him and, besides, Oakley was his best friend?

Question No. 5: When Krause spent months in pursuit of the young Toni Kukoc, a 6-11 player who could run the floor, pass and shoot, which veteran ridiculed Krause's efforts while grousing that the addition of Kukoc would destroy the team's chemistry and so refused to make a phone call recruiting Kukoc, telling Krause, "I don't speak Yugoslavian"?

The answers: 1. Michael Jordan. 2. No. 23.3. MJ. 4. His Airness. 5. Michael Jeffrey Jordan.

In his time as a basketball-playing genius, Jordan's sense of self was so powerful and his competitive drive so fierce that it was all but impossible for him to sublimate himself; he needed to bend everyone to his will.

Those attributes helped make Jordan the greatest player ever, but they were counterproductive off the court. He thought of himself as a kind of general manager without portfolio when he was, in fact, a naive, meddling prima donna who wanted a say in everything.

Although Krause, whom Jordan despised and taunted childishly, did in fact build an NBA dynasty uniquely, it can be said that Jordan's only positive personnel decision was his endorsement of the rogue rebounder Dennis Rodman.

But Jordan did demonstrate a quality of thought that must be what the Wizards' ownership groups are counting on: He learned from his mistakes. He came to embrace Winter's offense, Cartwright's positive influences, Jackson's homilies on selflessness and the beauty of Kukoc's open-court game. If Jordan never relented in his criticism of Krause, the best that can be said of Jordan is that the criticism became more personal and less professional; he recognized the fruit of Krause's decisions.

Whatever happens now for Jordan, it'll be fun. For who knows how many millions of dollars in his ownership stake, a retired basketball player buys himself a job for which he has suggested an aptitude but has proved nothing. One of the world's great newspapers, published in the world's most powerful city, gives over the top half of its front page to the announcement. "Man Walks on Moon," "Jordan Brings His Game to the Wizards." Same thing, right?

In keeping with the breathless nature of the coverage, a columnist wrote: "I have a friend who is a native Washingtonia, someone who makes his living in sports. Jordan's arrival here reminded him of something: Vince Lombardi's arrival to coach the Redskins." Oh, quit it.

The Lombardi and Jordan arrivals sham only the most ephemeral of connections, that being their celebrity buzz. Lombardi was a coach hired to do again what he'd already done. Jordan is a player hired to do what he has never done.

NBA analysts who admire Jordan's intelligence and will to win believe his best effort at this new work will be good. They also believe it won't be good enough to produce a championship contender any lime soon. Jordan may figure out, as everyone else has, that these Wizards am poor players, but they have long-term, high-dollar contracts that under the NBA's salary-cap structure makes it senseless to release them and near-impossible to trade them.

The alternative is to improve them. So Jordan wants to practice with them, probably on the theory that his practice presence always made his teammates better. There's a difference now. These sorry Wizards will be on their own while The Boss grumbles in the owner's box.

If Jordan does practice, by the way, he wouldn't be the first member of the franchise's management to do it When the team was the Baltimore Bullets, coach Gene Shue suited up every day. He'd been an All-NBA guard who suddenly couldn't shoot in public. But in private he remained a combative terror who'd go for hours against his own men. Gus Johnson, the forward, came to Wes Unseld, the center, and said, "Man, you notice we keep practicing 'til Gene wins? Let him win, let's go home." And they did.