Under the altar: The silent brokenness behind Jordan s two subsequent retirements

The Chicago Bulls' sixth championship in 1998 was sealed in history with Jordan's classic last shot. At that moment, what the world saw was a basketball god standing at the top; what the world couldn't see was the cracked foundation beneath this god's feet. When the cheers dissipated, a cruel reality emerged: the greatest player in basketball history had no team to return to.

The undercurrent behind "The Last Dance"

Phil Jackson keenly smelled the end. As early as before the start of the 1997-98 season, he used "The Last Dance" to set the tone for this season. This is not a romantic farewell tour, but a sober recognition of the irreconcilable contradictions within the Bulls. Jerry Krause, the Bulls' general manager, has made it clear that Jackson will be replaced even if the team wins 82 games and wins the championship. The relationship between Krause and Jordan was broken beyond repair. What's even more chilling is that team owner Jerry Reinsdorf has no intention of retaining the iron triangle of Jordan, Pippen and Jackson. That summer, Jordan had a glimmer of hope: If the front office kept Jackson, he would stay. He has publicly stated that he would not want to play for any other coach but Jackson. As a result, the request was dismissed with disdain by management.

The God of Basketball has nowhere to go.

Other teams in the league never thought that Jordan might leave the Bulls. No team has reserved enough salary space to welcome the God of Basketball. A shocking fact is: Except for the Bulls, no team in the league can accept Jordan's sky-high annual salary of $33 million. Jordan was caught in the most absurd predicament of a professional athlete: He had just led the team to win his sixth championship and proved that he was still the best basketball player on the planet, but he was reduced to "homelessness." Fate played a cruel joke to Joe's boss. When Scottie Pippen got his coveted tens of millions of annual salary in the Houston Space City, and when Phil Jackson returned to coach the Los Angeles Lakers after a year's rest, Jordan found that he was left where he was, with only a closed door in front of him. (Aside from the topic, is he similar to Qiao Feng? The leader of Qiao's martial arts is unparalleled in the martial arts world, but there is no place for him in the vast world)

The temptation and betrayal of Washington

In 2000, an opportunity seemed to appear in front of Jordan. Washington Wizards owner Abe Pollin reached out to him and invited him to become the team's minority owner and president of basketball operations. Jordan purchased 10% of the team from Wizards shareholder Ted Leonsis. The agreement stipulates that after the five-year contract expires, Jordan will receive 10% of the option shares and ultimately own 20% of the total equity. This seemed like the perfect opportunity for Jordan to transition from player to front office. But Jordan's competitive nature changed his trajectory. Faced with the Wizards' poor record, he chose the most direct way to intervene - returning to the game as a player again. "For a team to win, players and management are two different ways. The latter requires patience and waiting, but Jordan doesn't want to waste time. He just wants to win, win immediately, and keep winning." This decision forced him to sell all his shares to comply with NBA rules (NBA regulations require players to not hold shares in the team). His shares were repurchased by Leonsis, and the 10% option shares disappeared.

Jordan and Pauline reached two agreements: an oral promise to buy back 10% of Jordan's shares after he retires again; a written agreement promising to compensate Jordan for US$10 million in compensation for his salary loss while playing. However, Paulin laid the groundwork and refused to sign the share repurchase agreement on the grounds of "violation of the labor agreement." Jordan overestimated the businessman's integrity.

Mortal God: Indifference in the locker room

In the Wizards' locker room, a chilling little thing happened. The players had a meeting to discuss whether to prepare a farewell gift for Jordan, who was about to retire. In the end, everyone decided - "Forget it." Gods who were once worshiped are now treated as such in the mortal world. From the spotlight in Chicago to the cold reception in the locker room in Washington, Jordan experienced the feeling of falling from the altar. In 2003, when he ended his playing career and expected to return to the Wizards management, Pauline gave him the final blow: "We are not the same people, and I will not let you continue to control the team." Jordan's Wizards career ended in complete betrayal.

The Broken Behind the Perfect Ending

Looking back at Jordan's two retirements, we see not only the end of an era, but also the helplessness of a great athlete when facing business reality. On the basketball court, he is an omnipotent god; off the basketball court, he is still a pawn in the power game. This experience exposed the cold reality behind the glamorous appearance of professional sports: even the greatest athletes cannot escape the fate of being manipulated by commercial interests. In the huge business machine of the NBA, no one is irreplaceable - not even Michael Jordan. When business interests and favors conflict, the former always wins. God’s last dance finally danced the last note under the traction of capital.

Of course, Jordan will not just give up. You can beat him, but you can't knock him down! In the next issue, we will talk about how the old man returned to the NBA as a team owner to avenge his previous humiliation!