‘Net reaction: Jordan, Stockton, Robinson and you

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September 11, 2009

Michael Jordan, John Stockton and David Robinson, three of the greatest players to ever play the game of basketball, will be enshrined in the Hall of Fame tonight. Here’s what they’re saying out in the ether about the legends …

Celtics Hub: "I was eight years old sitting on the couch next to my father for Game 2 of the Celtics first round series against the Bulls in 1986. It was in this game that I felt, for the first time, the feeling of helplessness that washes over a sports fan when his team comes into contact with something it cannot stop or deal with. I imagine this is how Mets fans felt when they ran into Orel Hershiser in the 1988 playoffs; how fans of every NFL team felt about the 1985 Bears; and how it must have felt to watch your team turn the ball over 25 times against Kentucky’s press in the 1990s. You get the feeling there is no way your team can get past this force through any skill of its own. You either need to get lucky or the force needs to run out of time. I remember turning to my Dad, as young kids do, for reassurance. The Celtics are going to win, right Dad? The Bulls can’t beat us in Boston, right? This will all be OK, right? Michael Jordan, on April 20, 1986, reduced me to a blubbering mess." [more]

Bryan Crawford, SLAM: "February ‘88, the last time Chicago played host to an ASG (you hear that Stern?! We’re due), I was 11 years old and my uncle, who worked for the local CBS affiliate here, got his hands on a couple of tickets to All-Star Saturday night. As the saying goes around here, I was on 10. The whole week leading up to it, all I could think about was going to the dunk contest. I was the envy of all my friends. Michael Jordan vs. Dominique Wilkins, nothing else mattered and all was right in the world. But then the worst possible thing imaginable happened that week. Winter time in Chicago, I caught the flu. That Thursday morning I woke up with a 102 degree fever that rolled over into Friday. My mom called my uncle and told him that I was sick and it was a good chance that I wouldn’t be able to go with him on Saturday. As I lay in my bed, burning up and shivering at the same time, I told myself there was no way I was missing that dunk contest. I woke up Saturday morning with a normal temperature and no traces of flu. It was a miracle (or a combination of lots of ‘Tussin and even more Vicks). I begged my mom to still let me go. Hesitant, but knowing how bad I wanted to go, my mom against her better judgment relented, bundled me up and sent me out the door so I could be in attendance at one of the greatest dunk contests - and incidentally the greatest three point shootout in NBA history." [more]

Doug Smith, Toronto Star: "We can be bit parochial around these parts so let’s go through a favourite Toronto connection with each of the Hall of Famers. Michael Jordan. Where to start? That game at the Dome when the Raptors beat him and the Bulls in their 72-win season? The ridiculous ‘will Vince give up his all-star starting role for him’ non-story? Seeing him start his Washington return in a pre-season game here? Me? I probably pick that Dome game." [more]

KnickerBlogger.net: "Two things happen this week that seem momentous but really aren’t. Except that they kind of are. Yesterday, a remastered edition of The Beatles’ entire catalogue was released, much to the delight of millions of people who already own copies of all of their records. On Friday, Michael Jordan will be inducted into the Basketball Hall of Fame … So it is that the worlds of rock music and professional basketball turn their respective eyes to the greatest icons in their respective histories, despite the fact that neither icon has created anything new, accomplished anything unexpected, or done anything else to warrant the attention being newly heaped upon them (especially not that awful Okafor for Chandler trade). And yet, somehow, I have spent the better part of the week with the Beatles playing on my iPod and am in the midst of DVRing 9 hours of NBA TV’s Jordan marathon. The lesson, I suppose, is that truly transcendent greatness, the kind that gets inside its observers and re-emerges as either influence or obsession, doesn’t ever stop. Icons capable of so thoroughly dominating the cultural consciousness at the height of their greatness end up defining those cultures long after that greatness subsides." [more]

Hardwood Paroxysm: "Jordan killed the young me. Just killed me. The list of players and teams I loved that he vanquished during that time is long. Very long. Drexler’s Blazers. Barkley’s Suns. Payton and Kemp’s Sonics are particularly painful, I was obsessed with Payton for several years. The list goes on an on. Oddly, one team I didn’t mind them beating was the Jazz who I always felt were overrated and I thought Karl Malone was kind of a jerk. I did like Stockton a lot, and always wished he’d had somebody else to run alongside him. I’m pretty sure he’s pretty happy with how things turned out, though. Looking back on it, though, I realize how sad it is that I spent that time being torn up about Jordan. I was unable to appreciate how … well, awesome he was. I was getting to watch a player that was monumentally better than anyone that had come before, or has come since. I should have still been able to appreciate how good he was even as I was, you know, hoping he’d break his leg during one of those moves. He wasn’t just great, he was the greatest, and I’m thankful I was alive and cognizant of basketball to watch him play." [more]

Tim David Harvey, SLAM:
"Michael still averaged around 20 ppg in his two years in the nation’s
capital. He still put fans in seats and wowed them sometimes too.
Jordan gave the players who idolized him the chance to play with or
against him and all the fans that championed his legend the chance to
see him play again. Michael’s return was necessary to scratch a
basketball addict’s itch, but it was also a very selfless run. He
risked his credibility and his legacy but also to gave the world a
chance to see him one last time. This was MJ’s goodbye. To anyone who
looks at this man’s comeback with cynicism, they should remember
Michael donated all his salary to the relief fund for the aftermath of
the September 11 attacks. All his salary. It doesn’t matter how rich he
already is. How many professional sportsmen would really do that?" [more]

*****

Living And Dying By The Jazz: "They were their own men, and, in many ways, three of a kind: Stock with his short shorts and hair and hiding from the media in the trainer’s room, Karl with his trucks and hunting and wrestling, Jerry with his tractors and farming and country sayings. No nonsensical Chinese tattoos, no earrings, no Armani suits, no slicked back hair, no sideline thrones. Just three guys whose sole focus was winning, that came to play every night, and worked harder than anyone else on and off the court. And everything they achieved, they achieved through hard work and burning competitiveness. And everything they achieved, they achieved with humility and loyalty. What more can you ask for as a fan?" [more]

SLC Dunk: "I was watching the classic game from when Stock sends the Jazz to the Finals and I was thinkin’ back to watching him play and realized that when he was on the court, there was a calmness I think every Jazz fan had. That we could trust him to lead the team to a win. I remember when we would be down by 10 to 15 points in the 4th with five minutes to go and watching this man go to work and we would win the game. Those were good memories that I thank him for them."

Dime: "Between Mailman and Stock, the Jazz practices were never short on competition and hard work. A story in the Salt Lake Tribune this week quoted Sloan saying in all of the years Stockton played, he only ever lost at wind sprints once, and that was because he was sick. He won his last wind-sprint race at 41, and had a wind-sprint record of something like 2,197-1. That’s 26,363 freaking guys he beat at wind sprints in his career. Calbert Cheaney probably had a t-shirt made celebrating the only win over Stock." [more]

*****

48 Minutes of Hell: "The culture of professionalism and service that defines the Spurs predates the arrivals of Tim Duncan (notes), Gregg Popovich or Peter Holt. It was born in the heart and mind of David Robinson. He is the cornerstone. For many, the effects of Robinson’s hard work are blessedly demonstrable. But his effects on my life have been quieter and more elusive. While many fans are forced to wade through the turmoil that surrounds their teams, in the hopes of stumbling across the game they love, I have always been able to watch the Spurs in peace, knowing that the threats of scandal and distraction are nowhere to be found. In some ways, David Robinson and his legacy have forged the vacuum I spoke of earlier. His inspiration and leadership have afforded us the opportunity to relax and just enjoy the game of basketball." [more]

Chris Ferrell, Express-News: "To an 11-year-old in San Antonio, the Admiral’s arrival in 1989 was the biggest thing to happen in the city since Pee-wee Herman tried to find his missing bicycle in the basement of the Alamo. We had sat in a half-empty HemisFair Arena for years watching the Spurs lose. The most entertaining thing on the floor was usually the Coyote. That changed after San Antonio became Mr. Robinson’s Neighborhood. The Spurs started winning, and the Pistons backboard came down. The Michael Jordan posters were replaced by one featuring Robinson. (Hey, it’s fine to be a fair-weather fan when you’re 11.) And there was no bigger thrill that year than opening a pack of NBA Hoops basketball cards with No. 138 inside - the rookie card with a picture of Robinson holding up a Spurs jersey after signing his first contract. There are certain teams from your childhood that stay with you forever. You can still name the starting lineup (Robinson, Terry Cummings, Sean Elliott, Willie Anderson and Rod Strickland, who replaced Maurice Cheeks). Their successes still make you smile, and their failures still haunt you (where was Strickland throwing that pass against Portland?). The 1989-90 Spurs are that team for me." [more]

Project Spurs: "We’ve all heard the cliché over and over before, ‘he’s a class act on and off the court.’ It’s a cliché used all too often on anyone who displays maturity, responsibility and basically does what they should do. But David Robinson was different. While he ruled on the 94×50, his life work and possibly his most important work came when he was out of his silver & black uniform. Robinson was a rare breed. How many superstars out there do you see whose off-the-court resume matches what they did on the court. In today’s NBA where bad attitudes, playing for several teams and drug charges rule the league and the marketing hype, it’s a wonder how Robinson was so overlooked during his career." [more]