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kobe > jordan because of this, definitely
(The author is trying to raise some money to help Pop Herring out, since MJ apparently won't - see http://www.indiegogo.com/showpopsomelove)
http://sportsillustrated.cnn.com/201...dan/index.html
A letter to Michael Jordan: Shame on you for refusing to help Pop
Pop Herring, Michael Jordan's former high school coach, could use a hand to keep up his house, a caregiver, even just a new pair of sneakers.
Bill Frakes/SI
Dear Michael Jordan,
I heard Pop Herring was in jail so I drove up to see him the other night. You remember Pop, your basketball coach at Laney High in Wilmington, N.C. The man who opened the gym at 6 a.m. so you could work on that jumper. The man who let you borrow his car and had you over to his house and treated you like a son. The man who put you on jayvee in your sop re year. Didn't cut you, as you always said after that, although at the time it probably felt like a cut. I guess it still does, or did in 2009, when you were inducted into the Hall of Fame, and you addressed Pop directly without actually using his name and said, regarding his failure to put you on varsity, "I wanted to make sure you understood: You made a mistake, dude."
Well, it was your mistake. You used what should have been a joyful occasion to call out a man for something he did not actually do. A sick and indigent man at that. As we both know, Pop's life fell apart after you left town. Not his fault. A disease ran in his family, paranoid schizophrenia or some such thing, and he started acting strange, and he lost his job, and his wife, and his daughter, and pretty much everything else. Took to drinking, as you or I might do in similar cir stances.
Did you help him? Not in the past 18 years. He and his friends say the last time you saw him was 1994, and no one from your camp has come forward to dispute this. That was at a celebration of you in Chicago, and you introduced him to your fans as "the first guy to ever cut me," and they booed.
Were you unaware of his plight? I guess it's possible, or at least it was until last January, when Sports Illustrated published my story about him. Someone on your staff must have read it. I hoped you would reach out to him then. A visit or a gift or something. But no. It's been seven months, and Pop and his friends say there's been no sign of you.
A terrible thing happened after the article came out. A man who had been staying in Pop's tumbledown old house was charged with killing a young woman and burying her in the yard. Pop was arrested too, because he was drunk and difficult when the police showed up, but he had nothing to do with the killing. Let me repeat that: He had nothing to with the killing. I confirmed this with the District Attorney's office. The bad guy was a serial rapist, one of many shady characters hanging around that house, and Pop was incapable of keeping him out. This is something that happens when you're mentally ill. People take advantage.
Here's another thing that happens when you're mentally ill. You have trouble organizing your life. You miss a court date or two, and the judge issues a bench warrant, and pretty soon the cops come and throw you in jail. This is exactly what happened to Pop. He was living with a criminal because he is mentally ill. He was drinking because he is mentally ill. Nothing against the good people of the New Hanover County justice system, but this much is true: Clifton "Pop" Herring went to jail because he is mentally ill. Recently I called his landlord and heard he'd been back in jail since July 14. No one would bail him out. So I got in the car.
"This is my 24th day," he said, on the telephone, through the glass. He did not seem angry. In fact he was jovial, as usual, and he asked me how my little girl was doing. I told him fine, and he said good, and then he asked a favor. He said the charges had been cleared up that afternoon in court, and he wasn't sure why they were keeping him here, and he wondered if there was anything I could do to get him out. They were treating him just fine, but he didn't want to spend one more night in a cage.
"I got my stuff ready to go," he said.
I said I would go see about it. Sure enough, the charges had been resolved. All except one, a failure to appear. The bond was $100. I had no idea what I was doing. Never bailed anyone out before. Checked my wallet and saw forty bucks.
There's an ATM over in the corner, a deputy sheriff said.
So I went over and took out another hundred. My own money -- not from a Sports Illustrated expense account. It felt wonderful. Like you, Mike, I had profited from Pop's story, and I figured this was the least I could do to pay him back. I slid five twenties under the glass at the magistrate window and the guy gave me a receipt and told me to bring it to the deputy at another window.
"Go in the lobby and wait for him," the deputy said. "Be about 20 minutes."
Pop came out in his secondhand clothes, old jeans and an old gray T-shirt, and he said something grateful about the jail officials having laundered them. He was hungry, and so was I. We drove downtown to The George on the Riverwalk. Pop got a seafood platter with fried shrimp, fried flounder and fried oysters. It looked delicious, better than my shrimp and grits, and he let me try some. Then I took him home.
Mike, I know you can't fix Pop. But you can help him. He helped make you, and now you are a very rich man. Here's what you could do for Pop. You could buy that tumbledown house from Pop's landlord. You could tear it down and build a new one. Nothing fancy. Just a nice little one-story structure that won't blow over next time a hurricane comes through. You could hire a caretaker for this house, preferably two or three. These caretakers would keep the place clean, because Pop can't, and they would keep the shady characters outside, because Pop can't, and they would bail Pop out of jail next time he's caught with an open container, and they would make sure he shows up for court. His niece and his landlord do a lot for Pop, but they both have their own busy lives, and from time to time he falls through the cracks. You could pay people to always catch him. You could even hire his landlord and his niece, so they wouldn't have to work other jobs, and I'm sure they would treat him right.
Fine. I know I'm dreaming here. Asking too much. Well, there are smaller things you could do. Cheaper things. You could hire an exterminator, so Pop could turn on the stove or take a dish from the sink without seeing a swarm of small dark bugs. You could buy him a dishwasher. You could buy him a bed-frame so he wouldn't have to sleep on a mattress on the floor. Pop is a sentimental man, keen on mementos, and he keeps his New Hanover High Most Valuable Player 1969-70 basketball trophy on the mantle in his bedroom. The thing is so old and corroded that it's about to fall apart. You could pay a few bucks to have it restored.
I saw Pop the next morning, getting a shave and a haircut at Washington's Barber Shop. He was talking about getting some new clothes so he could get a girlfriend or two. You could buy him new clothes. I looked down at his feet, at his off-brand white sneakers, stained with water and mud, laces so old they were turning to fuzz. Mike, this would be the easiest of all. No money to spend. Just a phone call to your friends at Nike. You could tell them your old coach needs a new pair of shoes.
Sincerely,
Thomas Lake
kobe > jordan because of this, definitely
MJ got better things like create a dynasty in Charlotte!
Nothing to see here. Jordan has never given a about anything except Jordan...and it will be that way until they bury him.
Truly a sad story and indicative of the plight of those that suffer from mental instabilities. While it is Jordan's prerogative to help the man, the letter is poignant to the point if I were Jordan I would help. Then again, Jordan has never been one to balance humility with the other superlatives used to describe him.
This article is almost as butthurt as the one a few years ago when some SI writer put out that emo piece about finally getting a date with a woman he wanted since high school and then having Jordan steal her from a couple of tables over when they went out to dinner at some fancy place in Chicago.
Jordan should bankroll the guy's twilight years as a thank you. I mean, Jordan was illiterate and likely had no career hopes outside of basketball. This guy might have given Jordan the guidance he needed to make his breakthrough in the sport.
Of course, Jordan lives for himself and this article is all for naught.
Wow, not aclassy
I'm sure MJ would be happy to offer him a job at his Chinese factory sewing up shoes for $0.12 an hour... let's just hope this guy isn't looking for a handout, tbh
It's not really Jordan's obligation to help this guy out, but it does give an insight into the awful person that Jordan actually is. The fact that he takes every chance he gets to call out this coach in public and actively avoid him because of a 30 year old grudge is par for the course. Jordan has always been the consummate asshole, and never forgets a perceived slight.
So this guy didn't really cut Mike?
Jordan is a jerk, what's new?
Yeah, the prevailing truth is that he wasn't cut by the coach and that was a marketing tool to sell the Jordan name and brand...
this story doesn't move me. jordan can't help everybody and pop isn't en led to any of jordans hard earned money.
This story didn't bother me too except for when Jordan feels he has to call out the guy for whatever reason.
MJ never forgets
He didnt make the team, so he must kill the coach now
Typical MJ
Pop might have Sanduskied his ass in the showers.
Pop isn't asking him for money. No one is en led to anything accept rights, but the fact the guy won't even call is crazy - that's free. Also, the fact you have to ask a guy like Jordan to help is the issue. For the same reason you donate to charity, sometimes it's about doing the right thing.
Yeah, mentioned here a number of times--but you have the audacity to call the poor guy out and drum up some motivation of a perceived slight that happened 30 some years ago...and this is written on his behalf by another person, so Clifton isn't panhandling. Meh, it is still a personal choice and I think most of us (in Jordan's position) would want to at least help a little.
Jordan would rather lose $10 million at a casino game he doesn't know how to play, tbh
Unfortunately, this. What kills me is that the world wide leader worships this dude. I've seen a few foul stories like this about him (and Shaq). Yet the media loves them anyway.
DPG with the goods.
And don't forget the rapist snitch... the media loves him too, tbh....
The rapist snitch food stamps grabber
The rapist snitch food stamps grabber
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