AC Green broke the Iron Man record with the Mavericks, and that banner still hangs proudly in the AAC, ..........well i think it still does....
AC Green broke the Iron Man record with the Mavericks, and that banner still hangs proudly in the AAC, ..........well i think it still does....
Nope, mono, yer O & forever, son.
Damn, his wife never looked more beautiful.
Best thing he did Pt 1. get his crew to wipe that room.
Best thing he did Pt 2. hire that junk yard dog to the left of his old lady.
Best thing he did Pt 3. turn that loose in a Colorado courtroom.
I wonder what shampoo his wife used back then? Her hair was like silk.
Just drop dead gorgeous.
thats cause moss had "mooned" the crowd. stupid joe buck was so insulted. idiot
looks like the GOAT has a flaw, y till the end throwing anyone he could think off under the bus
+1
And yes, Dallas fan, Isiah is a too.
Good for you, Detroit fan.
Eh...MJ was always the way he was tonight. It doesn't matter if you like him or not or respect him or not, he doesn't care and he's going to come at you the same way. He's definitley not classy, and never was, but he is unquestionably one of the greatest compe ors in any sports.
I don't think he's anywhere close to the player Magic Johnson was though.
But one thing has become apparent to me...Jordan is a lot smarter than he comes off...there are two quotes I have heard by him that prove this...
#1. When told he didn't make his teamates better his response was, "then get me better teamates".
#2. Tonights quote, when told there was no "I" in team, "yeah but there's an "I" in win".![]()
You gotta admit those are clever responses to the ultimate coach cards concerning selfish play, the only two good responses to them I've ever heard. Pretty smart if he came up with those on the fly.
And I don't doubt for a second he remembers every single person who ever motivated him in his entire life. That is pretty much what he is all about.
He had a thing like that going with David...the first time he and David played he told David I'm going to dunk on you big fella, and there's not anything you can do about it. Drob said he told him you aren't going t6o dunk on me, I'm not going to let that happen...I think it was a few years for Michael finally got him.
He can't be close to magic johnson on a player level cause hes just on a whole other level then magic.
Yeah, it was a tasteless speech, but he's ing MJ and can do whatever he damn well pleases! the Haters! Go MJ!
Jordan's speech just another MJ dagger
By J.A. Adande
ESPN.com
Of all the wacky words of the past week -- including Kanye West's stomping on Taylor Swift's Video Music Award, Serena Williams' threat to ball-stuff a line judge and Rep. Joe Wilson's disrespecting President Obama in the middle of a congressional address -- the only ones I can defend came during Michael Jordan's Hall of Fame induction speech. Jordan spoke from the heart. The thing is, his heart's as cold as liquid nitrogen.
If you enjoyed all of Jordan's acrobatic feats, his scoring outbursts and (most of all) his clutch performances, then you can't say you were disappointed in his at ude upon finally reaching basketball's Olympus. They're inseparable. You don't get Jordan the G.O.A.T. without the E-G-O. You don't get his triumphing again and again without his using every sleight -- real or perceived -- to motivate himself.
Deep inside Jordan is "an assassin," as former Chicago Bulls assistant coach John Bach once described him. And so when it was his turn to take the stage in Springfield, Mass., the final act after we heard from a gracious David Robinson, a surprisingly funny John Stockton, a thoughtful C. Vivian Stringer, and an uncomfortable-at-the-thought-of-speaking-about-himself Jerry Sloan, Jordan aimed his sight and gave thanks and payback to every foe and ally who provided him with incentive.
He got the high school coach who cut him and the guy who beat him out for the final spot on the team. He got his beloved North Carolina coach, Dean Smith, for keeping him off the Sports Illustrated cover that went to the upperclassmen instead. He got Pat Riley and Riley's "little" protege, Jeff Van Gundy, for all of their gamesmanship during the Bulls-Knicks rivalry in the '90s. He got his old Chicago general manager/foil Jerry Krause, delivering the final refutation on Krause's ill-advised "organizations win championships" remark. He got every media member who doubted Jordan's ability to win an NBA championship. And he went on an extended riff on Bryon Russell, the man forever frozen in the highlight of Jordan's final shot in a Bulls uniform.
Jordan said that came from Russell's expressing a desire for Jordan to come back from his first retirement so he could guard him. He asked Stockton if he remembered that conversation, prompting the second-greatest reaction shot of the weekend. (The first was Beyonce's how-did-I-get-dragged-into-this? expression following Kanye's mike-grab from Taylor Swift.) Stockton looked as if he had no recollection of that discussion at all, and I wouldn't be surprised if it never actually happened.
Jordan has made stuff up before, most notably when he claimed Bullets rookie LaBradford Smith said, "Nice game, Mike," after lighting up His Airness for 37 points. Jordan returned fire with 36 points in the first half against Smith the next time they played. Years later, he confessed Smith never said anything to him.
When the Bulls played the Cavaliers in the 1993 playoffs and Cleveland guard Gerald Wilkins was asked about his ability to guard Jordan, Wilkins always pointed out that nobody could shut Jordan down, but he had been somewhat effective against him. Jordan scored 43 points in the first game of the series, and afterward said with a smirk, "I guess the 'Jordan-stopper' had a pretty tough night." No one else heard Wilkins call himself a Jordan-stopper. But Jordan did, in his own mind, which shows you just how differently things worked in there.
That's the mindset that created Air Jordan, the basketball player we then proceeded to deify. How could his ego not become inflated to 28 psi when he was continuously asked questions such as "Can you fly?" and "Are you a god?"
Unlike Muhammad Ali, Jordan never ran around proclaiming himself the greatest of all time. Jordan always found a way to tactfully discuss his greatness, acknowledging that he did it better than most, but never putting himself ahead of the legends or the game himself. He usually tailored every word to fit into people's expectations of what someone in his position would say. He even did it earlier in the day of his induction, spending most of his news conference discussing his appreciation for his deceased father, his coaches and the Chicago fans. He was asked and he responded.
For his speech, there were no questions, no prompts. As a result you got Jordan, genuine and unfiltered. It's the way he tends to be when the cameras are turned off and the notepads put away. He cried at the outset of his speech. He had people cringing by the end. But through it all he stayed true to himself and his era.
Shaquille O'Neal made an interesting point during the video tribute: Jordan was a hip-hop version of Dr. J. Maybe Jordan's internal sound system wasn't booming hip-hop tracks -- after he hit The Shot over Craig Ehlo, he referenced an Anita Baker song during his on-court interview -- but Jordan's rise coincided precisely with the ascendance of hip-hop to the top of pop culture. He was drafted the same year Run-DMC (the rappers who did the most to bring hip-hop to the mainstream) released their first album. Jordan won his first Most Valuable Player award in 1988; the first rap song to win a Grammy Award was DJ Jazzy Jeff & The Fresh Prince's "Parents Just Don't Understand" in 1989. By the time he retired, his name worked his way into the lexicon as the standard of excellence (Jay-Z: "I'm the Mike Jordan of recordin'").
At its core, rapping is about verbal battling, using words to put people in their place. That's the cultural shift that mirrored Jordan's career, and you're likely to hear more of it reflected in Hall of Fame speeches from here on as the hip-hop generation makes its way to Springfield. Jordan can't impose his will on the court anymore. He's still as compe ive as ever, and his words are all he has left for the fight.
The Man behind the Legend
Michael Jordan's Hall of Fame induction speech reveals arrogance
By Jon Greenberg
ESPNChicago.com
The greatest athlete of our time travels on private planes and in very fast, very expensive foreign cars.
When he goes somewhere, it's on his schedule and it's always in style.
However he travels, Michael Jeffrey Jordan does not take the high road, as he proved in an oddly compelling speech Friday night.
Jordan's Basketball Hall of Fame induction speech in Springfield, Mass., was Jordan at his most honest, his most real. He cried, thanked his friends and family, rebuked his so-called enemies and proved that he is -- forever and ever -- the most compe ive person alive.
In this sometimes funny and sharp-edged speech, the world's most ubiquitous and successful corporate pitchman proved he was still human. He wasn't selling Nike or Gatorade or batteries or hot dogs. He wasn't pretending he was a basketball executive.
After an earlier news conference where he did his best to sound humble, Jordan's big speech was littered with his own tears and his own jokes, and most were good-natured, but he made it a point to recognize those who have inspired him over the years. It was certainly befitting his reputation, and it wasn't all that funny.
The greatest athlete of our time made sure to point out the high school coach who didn't put him on the varsity his sop re year. (He was never cut, per se. That's an urban myth akin to Catfish Hunter's nickname origin.) He pointed out the guy who made the team "over" him, who was in the audience; his college roommate, Buzz Peterson; the NBA vets who froze him out in his first All-Star Game, two of whom were there, George Gervin (who presented David Robinson) and Isiah Thomas (who presented John Stockton); Jazz guard Bryon Russell, who was guarding him on his final shot in a Bulls uniform; and, of course, former Bulls general manager Jerry Krause, with whom he had real conflict during his career. Krause, forever the outsider looking in, made the mistake of claiming he was skipping Jordan's induction because former coach Tex Winter, the originator of the triangle offense, wasn't inducted.
Onstage, Jordan adroitly, and unnecessarily, noted Krause wasn't invited before going on a diatribe about how organizations don't win championships, great players like him do -- a reversal of a much-traveled portion of a longer, more balanced quote credited to Krause. Jordan was right, of course, but why bring that up on the stage in front of basketball's upper echelon? Because Jordan is the ultimate alpha male and this was his alpha male moment. He doesn't get those anymore, not in public. This was it for him.
Jordan, not known for being cheap, even commented on the high prices the Hall of Fame charged for this evening because of his induction, noting that he had to pay for his tickets. It was a small sniping comment for a man who could be the first athlete to be worth $1 billion, but he hates people making money off him, unless he's getting a cut.
Michael Jordan isn't just the son of Deloris and the late James. He hasn't been for 20 years. He is the modern sports hero we've created, the fans and the media, through our unyielding appreciation of his athletic superiority, and from the masses (like myself) who bought Nikes because he endorsed them and drank Gatorade because he pitched it. He is the perfect blend of American win-at-all-costs at ude and our thirst for name-brand recognition.
People call Jordan "arguably" the greatest athlete of our time, and really, his only peer is Muhammad Ali. It's amazing how both Ali and Jordan perfectly encapsulated their separate eras. Ali came to power in the turbulent 1960s, when true democracy flourished. He gave up his championship to stand up for his black nationalist beliefs. He was loud and opinionated, and quite a character, for better or worse.
Jordan, cool and refined, once refused to endorse a Democrat against Republican Sen. Jesse Helms in North Carolina, cooly noting that "Republicans buy sneakers too." He was the true child of the Me Decade.
Sure, Jordan has given more money to charitable causes and met with more sick kids than we'll ever know. He shouldn't be thought of as Gordon Gekko in gym shoes. He took advantage of what was out there for a good-looking, charming athlete. In fact, he is probably the only athlete to gain control over his image from his team and his sponsors.
The buzz preceding the speeches was how unfair it was to Robinson and Stockton, not to mention coaches Jerry Sloan and C. Vivian Stringer, that they had to share their day with Jordan. It was said that Jordan should get his own day at the Hall of Fame, as if he played a different sport. It was media deification at its finest, the kind of at ude that burnished Jordan's public lifestyle and the mythmaking apparatus that pads his wallet. Not that he doesn't deserve it. The Man could play basketball better than anyone, anywhere.
If you listened to Robinson's and Stockton's speeches, you could see the difference between the two and Jordan. Robinson made a home for himself and his family in San Antonio, where he runs charter schools and works in the community. He was a star player and a better person.
Stockton, wearing what looked like a $150 rented tuxedo with a crooked bowtie, lives in Spokane, Wash., where his father still owns a popular local bar. He was every bit the compe or Jordan was, just less gifted, less talented. Jordan has the highest scoring average of all time, Stockton the most assists and most steals. Stockton now spends his time with his family and scrimmaging with Gonzaga players.
Stockton and Robinson have made comfortable transitions into adulthood through retirement, and both gave wonderful, emotional, heartfelt speeches.
I was at the gym during Robinson's speech, watching and listening on the elliptical. I'm not afraid to say I teared up. Robinson was often criticized for being too soft on the court, too cerebral. He was, in a lot of ways, the anti-Jordan, as a superstar. The Admiral spent the entirety of his speech thanking people. When he spoke of his family, he gushed over his three boys, calling them his best friends, encouraging them to reach their own goals.
When Jordan, who is divorced from his longtime wife Juanita, brought up his three children, he told them he felt sorry for them, because of the tall shadow they have to live with. His oldest son, Jeffrey, seated next to a very pretty girlfriend of his father's, recently quit the basketball team at Illinois to focus on his studies. Marcus Jordan is in his freshman year at Central Florida, where he too will play. Needless to say, they know they'll forever be second-class to their pop. How could anyone live up to his standards?
It was a telling Jordan moment: honest, seemingly loving and full of hubris. It was not the words of a father, but of a compe or.
Jordan's lackluster post-Bulls basketball career has done nothing to obscure his spotless legacy as a basketball player. There will never be an athlete of his magnitude again, because he is the archetype of the hero athlete and the living embodiment of success. He is the Michael Jordan of being Michael Jordan.
So this Hall of Fame induction was unnecessary -- he's been first-ballot since 1991 -- but his speech proved again that heroes best exist in myths and stories, not on a dais with a shiny suit.
Michael Jordan the Chicago Bulls guard was invincible. Michael Jordan the Man is vulnerable, complicated and ultimately human.
I miss Jordan the Hero. I don't really want to know Jordan the Man.
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