About two decades too late, I want to be like Mike. I want to run that fast and jump that high. I want the tracksuits and the beret he wore in Paris. I want that smile. I want the ‘90s Vogue Range Rover. I want the grace and the charm. I want to handle the media with grace and charm, even though I do not need to handle the media at all. I’ve even considered taking up golf and buying cigars to be more like Mike. However, if I could only choose one part of Michael Jordan, I would choose the drive. That incessant focus on becoming the best and winning at all costs paired with the ability to turn it on and off and, well, never turn it off. So last week, I tried to be like Mike and I put my back out.
Michael Jordan has been on my mind because ‘The Last Dance’ has replaced ‘Tiger King’ as the latest isolation binge watch. It documents the rise of the Chicago Bulls and followed the team in the 1997-98 season before its star players and coach, Phil Jackson, departed after winning their sixth NBA title in eight seasons. I’ve thought a lot about why ‘The Last Dance’ has transcended sports fans and struck a chord with everyone who owns a Netflix account. My initial feeling was that it is refreshing to see a sports star maintain their focus instead of being blinded by stardom and ending up on the front page of The Daily Telegraph for their off-court antics. I was wrong. Everyone loves ‘The Last Dance’ because everyone loves Michael Jordan and everyone loves Michael Jordan because everyone loves seeing someone give everything they’ve got. We love being a fly on the wall of his relentless pursuit and persistence because it is something we can all connect with, whether we are good at it or not, whether we have a sneaker deal or not. And in this particular moment, when you might be feeling particularly helpless or unmotivated as you’ve worn the same track pants for the last six weeks, his unwavering drive and standard of operating is refreshing to encounter. Even if it has been drip-fed to you in two 47-minute episodes every Monday night for the last five weeks.
“Michael didn’t allow what he couldn’t control to get inside his head. He would say, ‘Why would I think about missing a shot I haven’t taken yet?’”
As a teenager, Michael Jordan wasn’t the best. In fact he was the second-best basketballer in his own home. His brother was better. Michael Jordan was also cut from his high school varsity team. He spent the first part of the summer crying in his mother’s arms and the rest practicing, only to return to school with a vengeance that never left. As his University of North Carolina assistant coach, Roy Williams, said: “When I think of Michael Jordan, yes, I think of the shot. But I also think of three years of that youngster getting better and better and better.” His underdog status fuelled him, allowing him to eventually dominate those university games, followed by the NBA, and once he became the greatest player of all time it became about maintaining this standard of operating. He took his talent, and turned it into another game to keep going. As his trainer, Tim Grover, said: “Michael had an obligation to himself, his fans, his teammates, the organisation, his family, everybody. He said, ‘If you’re going to sit down and take three hours out of your day to watch me on TV, I have an obligation to give you my best. To give you my best all the time.’”
What was most surprising about Jordan's drive, though, was that it overcame any inch of doubt. It was so powerful, it never let the doubt creep in. As the author of Rare Air, Mark Vancil, articulated in the final episode of the docuseries, Jordan’s gift was that his unwavering pursuit of excellence allowed him to be completely present. “People go and sit in ashrams for twenty years in India trying to be present, do yoga, meditate, trying to get here, now. Most people live in fear because we project the past into the future. Michael’s a mystic. He was never anywhere else. His gift was not that he could jump high, run fast, shoot a basketball. His gift was that he was completely present - and that was the separator,” Vancil said. “The biggest downfall in a lot of players who are otherwise gifted is thinking about failure. Michael didn’t allow what he couldn’t control to get inside his head. He would say, ‘Why would I think about missing a shot I haven’t taken yet?’”
On Monday night, the Maxigesic had worked and my back had healed but an emptiness lay in the air because two more episodes of ‘The Last Dance’ were not released. The series was over and now all I have are the lessons. If I could only choose one, I would choose the last: allowing your drive to remove the doubt, or at least give it less power. Jordan’s was so strong that it allowed him to shoot in the present moment without projecting the past into his future. And as someone with a fair amount of drive, but whose default setting is the doubt button, I might be playing my own game over the next few months. Whenever the doubt creeps in, repositioning my focus on the drive and pressing that button with more vigour. If only to keep going, to keep doing, to keep moving forward. Because if I have learned anything about success over the last five weeks it’s that doing is the only answer. Do it again. Do it again. Do it better. Do it again. Coach Phil Jackson taught me that. He said, “You are only a success at the moment you perform a successful act. You have to do it again.” Time for another round.
Some related (and unrelated) recommendations:
Obviously ‘The Last Dance’ on Netflix if you haven't seen it. You will fall in love with Scottie Pippen, Michael Jordan, Phil Jackson and Dennis Rodman. What came through was not only Jordan's excellence, but how they all needed each other and understood one another. As Kanye West once rapped, “Every Jordan need a Rodman.” And as my sister says, “I want to be like Mike, but hang out with Rodman.”
This New York Times profile of filmmaker Spike Lee during isolation, ahead of his latest film’s release.
If you missed The New York Times cover marking the 100,000 lives lost to coronavirus in the US you can see it here, and view the interactive article here.
This ELLE UK article where four female writers share what it’s like to have a life crisis in your twenties or thirties or forties or fifties.
I thought this Weekend Australian Magazine article on the possible rise of the seachange during and post-pandemic was really interesting.
I’ve been working mainly to this ‘Maxin Relaxin ain’t no Taxin’ playlist by Tom Laverty this week, which is delightful to work to and have a wine with. An all round delight really.
You're Not Listening, a book dedicated to becoming present in our conversations again by choosing to listen - an artform we seem to have forgotten.
Finally, in honour of the first two recommendations, please watch these two Air Jordan ads with Spike Lee in character as Mars Blackmon from his film, She's Gotta Have It. Watch the first here and the second here.
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