As if it weren't enough that Scandinavia has such a superior health care system, now their bus drivers are dominating the nerd community.
The Huffington Post blogger concludes with this question, "So, When/If he gets married will he make his wife take his name?"
I'm guessing that won't be an issue that comes up.
Saturday, September 12, 2009
MJ's White Whale...NOT Luc Longley
Five people were inducted to the NBA's Hall of Fame last night: Jerry Sloan, Vivian Stringer, John Stockton, David Robinson, and Michael Jordan.
I stumbled on the ceremony in time to see Robinson and Stockton's speeches. I was impressed with both players. They looked back on their careers with humility and joy. They were surrounded by large families and gave sincere, eloquent thanks to a great many people. And then it was Jordan's turn.
No person on the planet simultaneously fills me with as much joy and disdain as Jordan. He is without a doubt the greatest athlete of my lifetime. He was the embodiment of true competitive virtue: He worked harder and longer than anyone else, he perfected the fundamental aspect of the game and incomparable, spectacular play emerged from that foundation. He overcame every obstacle, the harder the opposition, the more furious his play. It is simply impossible to imagine a more perfect athlete.
And yet the same characteristics that composed his indomitable spirit have twisted his personality, leaving him a bitter, angry man despite his astonishing success. His speech was disturbing, to say the least (Yahoo's Adrian Wojnarowski did an excellent job of highlighting some of the more concerning points of the presentation).
The most striking aspect of Jordan's speech was the utter lack of anything resembling joy or happiness in the memories of his playing days. He simply rehashed a series of grudges, using a "log on the fire" metaphor to justify the redress of old scores. It was graceless and pathetic, beneath a player of his stature.
Certainly his competition was partially responsible for his greatness, and there is nothing wrong with mentioning that. He could have thanked Isaiah Thomas and the Pistons for putting him through hell, and indeed, the portion where he discussed Pat Riley's antagonism was interesting. But most of Jordan's words were aimed at people who, whether intentionally or not, slighted him in some way. It was a grisly sort of taunting aimed at his defeated adversaries, a basketball version of displaying collected scalps.
Michael Jordan's life seems to be playing out like an alternate ending to Moby Dick. In this story, Ahab catches the whale, but remains unsatisfied. He goes on to kill every aquatic mammal on the planet, and still spends his remaining years screaming at their ghosts. From a career so astonishing that a fictional version would seem unbelievable and cartoonish, Jordan's mind is fixated on every slight, every tiny bit of perceived disrespect. In light of this bitter resentment of a beautiful career one has to ask if anything could satisfy that compulsion, whether any level of success could quench that fire. Ahab's demise almost seems merciful set against a potential life of twisted anger and insecure jealously.
As a post script, the section of Jordan's speech that was least humorous and most transparently vindictive were the words aimed at former Bulls GM, Jerry Krause. Krause famously said that organizations win championships. Jordan took this as a slight, an used his hall of fame speech to reiterate his contention that players are all that matter (don't try to tell Jordan that players and coaches are part of the organization). Given Jordan's abject and continuing failure as an executive, the stance that originally sounded like a demand for respect now sounds like an excuse. Hey, all he can do as an exec is draft and sign players, if they don't perform, it's on them. Thus the Kwame Brown and Adam Morrison failures weren't the result of bad scouting or poor executive planning, it was a personal failure of the players in question.
Each time Jordan spews his venomous resentment of Krause it becomes more of a rationalization for his lackadaisical executive work. Across all major sports, the last two decades have justified Krause's claim as the Yankees, Red Sox, Patriots, Colts, Spurs, and Lakers have all won multiple championships with immense personnel turnover. As the Yankees gear up for another championship run, the only remaining players from their dominant 90's teams are Jeter, Posada, Pettit, and Rivera. The organization is responsible for filling the gaps.
I stumbled on the ceremony in time to see Robinson and Stockton's speeches. I was impressed with both players. They looked back on their careers with humility and joy. They were surrounded by large families and gave sincere, eloquent thanks to a great many people. And then it was Jordan's turn.
No person on the planet simultaneously fills me with as much joy and disdain as Jordan. He is without a doubt the greatest athlete of my lifetime. He was the embodiment of true competitive virtue: He worked harder and longer than anyone else, he perfected the fundamental aspect of the game and incomparable, spectacular play emerged from that foundation. He overcame every obstacle, the harder the opposition, the more furious his play. It is simply impossible to imagine a more perfect athlete.
And yet the same characteristics that composed his indomitable spirit have twisted his personality, leaving him a bitter, angry man despite his astonishing success. His speech was disturbing, to say the least (Yahoo's Adrian Wojnarowski did an excellent job of highlighting some of the more concerning points of the presentation).
The most striking aspect of Jordan's speech was the utter lack of anything resembling joy or happiness in the memories of his playing days. He simply rehashed a series of grudges, using a "log on the fire" metaphor to justify the redress of old scores. It was graceless and pathetic, beneath a player of his stature.
Certainly his competition was partially responsible for his greatness, and there is nothing wrong with mentioning that. He could have thanked Isaiah Thomas and the Pistons for putting him through hell, and indeed, the portion where he discussed Pat Riley's antagonism was interesting. But most of Jordan's words were aimed at people who, whether intentionally or not, slighted him in some way. It was a grisly sort of taunting aimed at his defeated adversaries, a basketball version of displaying collected scalps.
Michael Jordan's life seems to be playing out like an alternate ending to Moby Dick. In this story, Ahab catches the whale, but remains unsatisfied. He goes on to kill every aquatic mammal on the planet, and still spends his remaining years screaming at their ghosts. From a career so astonishing that a fictional version would seem unbelievable and cartoonish, Jordan's mind is fixated on every slight, every tiny bit of perceived disrespect. In light of this bitter resentment of a beautiful career one has to ask if anything could satisfy that compulsion, whether any level of success could quench that fire. Ahab's demise almost seems merciful set against a potential life of twisted anger and insecure jealously.
As a post script, the section of Jordan's speech that was least humorous and most transparently vindictive were the words aimed at former Bulls GM, Jerry Krause. Krause famously said that organizations win championships. Jordan took this as a slight, an used his hall of fame speech to reiterate his contention that players are all that matter (don't try to tell Jordan that players and coaches are part of the organization). Given Jordan's abject and continuing failure as an executive, the stance that originally sounded like a demand for respect now sounds like an excuse. Hey, all he can do as an exec is draft and sign players, if they don't perform, it's on them. Thus the Kwame Brown and Adam Morrison failures weren't the result of bad scouting or poor executive planning, it was a personal failure of the players in question.
Each time Jordan spews his venomous resentment of Krause it becomes more of a rationalization for his lackadaisical executive work. Across all major sports, the last two decades have justified Krause's claim as the Yankees, Red Sox, Patriots, Colts, Spurs, and Lakers have all won multiple championships with immense personnel turnover. As the Yankees gear up for another championship run, the only remaining players from their dominant 90's teams are Jeter, Posada, Pettit, and Rivera. The organization is responsible for filling the gaps.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)