Audio By Carbonatix
The best basketball player to ever walk planet Earth is moving to Jupiter. A $7.6 million mansion? Fine. He deserves it, along with the lifetime of leisure that awaits him in the decades to come. I certainly have no regrets from buying the Bulls tickets and jerseys and countless pairs of Air Jordans that contributed a few bucks to his vast wealth.
But I’m worried about him. All over his Hall of Fame induction speech were signs of trouble.
It’s both a cliche and vast understatement to say that Jordan thrives on competition. Through basketball, he had a venue to be ruthless in feeding that addiction. His unparalleled feats validated his enormous ego, and then they made it even more massive. For Jordan himself, those heroics must have given him the kind of euphoria that no drug can equal.
So try to imagine the withdrawal that comes with quitting.
He’s lost the means to feel the same triumphs he’s known as an athlete.
It’s the same struggle that other athletes face, but none had more
success — and thus, more to miss — than Jordan.
No amount of material comfort can resolve that loss. Imagine how lonely he must be. Who can possibly relate to him? No one, at least not in a way that more traditional retirees help one another through their own existential boredom.
Since leaving the Bulls, Jordan’s been a train wreck as a basketball executive. His comeback with the Washington Wizards was painful to watch. And his Hall speech was embarrassingly unsportsmanlike — full of rancor toward those who ever doubted his greatness.
Jordan’s gambling habits have been well-chronicled. This is a man who finds his thrill with the fear of losing, which means he has to take risks. Not just with money but with his legacy. I’m afraid it’s not a question of whether there will be a Jordan scandal — it’s a question of when.
