Jeremy L. Berg

As a bright-eyed, blond-haired lanky kid who ate, drank and slept basketball from an early age through high school, I was one of the lucky generation who got to watch MJ, Bird, Magic, Barkley, Robinson, Ewing Tuesdays on TNT and those Sunday afternoon doubleheaders on NBC. I spent nearly every night in the basement watching Johnny “Red” Kerr on WGN narrate the never disappointing, always dazzling performances of Jordan while I played 1-on-1 Nerf ball against myself during the commercial breaks. 

We all wanted to “Be Like Mike”. I collected every Wheaties box, covered every square inch of my bedroom with posters, was a proud member of the Michael Jordan Flight Club that came with a supposedly signed card (it was forged for sure!).  I watched “Come Fly With Me” before every basketball game in middle school and “Michael Jordan’s Playground” between 2-on-2 driveway games on hot summer afternoons with my buddies.  I had MJ shorts and t-shirts, books and magazines, basketball cards and sneakers.  I recorded every TV appearance from Letterman and Leno, to hosting SNL and multiple appearances on Oprah.

He was my hero. And my hero has fallen — at least in my eyes.

A cold emptiness gnawed at me as I listened to Michael Jordan’s 23 minute speech at his well-deserved induction in the NBA Hall of Fame. Emptiness with tinge of sickness and betrayal. Now that I am 30 years old I am able to see the real person behind the long retired super hero cape MJ wore throughout my childhood days. My reaction to MJ’s speech was captured succinctly by one commenter: “A great player; a shallow, bitter man.”  

The man who could do no wrong on the basketball court, and whom I all but worshipped as a child, now struck me as more of a ruthless, bitter, insecure, pompous,selfish, grudge-bearing jerk. I think the following commentary is pretty accurate. Check out: Did Michael Jordan’s speech bring shame upon the Hall of Fame?  

I have grown up now. Life is much more than basketball games and winning. One’s identity should never be tied to one’s own accomplishments and failures. One’s pride and confidence should not depend on other people’s embarrassment and humiliation. In his speech, Jordan comes across as insecure, trapped in a past of petty personal battles and “I’ll show Yous.”  His tone seemed embittered and restless. Instead of remembering all the great moments he spent most of the time with “I showed you,” “you should have known better,” “don’t cross me again,” and other provocations.  As sportswriter “Hacksaw” Hamilton writes:

The night at the podium should have been cast with remembrances of Jordan winning the NBA trophy and lying on the floor weeping, remembering his late father. It was the Bulls star kissing the MVP trophy. Him hugging Scotty Pippen. A photo with his legendary coach Phil Jackson, smoking cigars. It was the crossover dribble, the thundering slam dunks, and sizzling hot three point shots, the legendary steals and fast breaks going the other way. Michael Jordan’s nights should have been remembered. The 69-point outburst against Cleveland; 63 in the playoff loss to Bird and Boston; 55-against the Suns. 13-shots in a row that fell in one playoff game. On and On. It should have been a special night, but it wasn’t. Michael Jordan turned the party into bitch session, railing against all those who wronged him.

Adrian Wojnarowski of Yahoo! Sports sums up the speech noting that:

This wasn’t a Hall of Fame induction speech, but a bully tripping nerds with lunch trays in the school cafeteria. He had a responsibility to his standing in history, to players past and present, and he let everyone down. This was a night to leave behind the petty grievances and past slights – real and imagined. This was a night to be gracious, to be generous with praise and credit.

It grieves me to write this post. A very special part of my childhood feels like it has died. I had MJ on such a high pedestal. I want to be able to separate the person who delivered the speech from the man I so looked up to as a kid.  But I just cannot. I believe too firmly that WHO we are (character) matters infinitely more than WHAT we have done (accomplishments) in our lives. Now that I am older I can see through the athletic prowess to the fragile, conflicted character of the man within. 

The MJ who made that speech is by far the greatest basketball player who has ever lived. No question. But the man who delivered that speech has plenty of room to grow in character and class. 

What did you think of his speech?  (Be sure to listen to the entire thing.)