Most everyone who loves basketball — and a fair share who have, at best, a casual interest in the sport — will have already watched the first two episodes of The Last Dance. Compelled to stay home because of quarantine measures to mitigate the spread of the coronavirus disease 2019, they will have been intrigued by the prospect of seeing living legend Michael Jordan behind the curtains as he led the Bulls through the 1997–98 season and to its sixth and final National Basketball Association championship. And they will have come away equally impressed and perturbed at the unabashedly candid look the documentary series afforded them.
Indeed, the Bulls’ march to success was marred by shocking instances of disconnect. As The Last Dance showed time and again, their status as two-time reigning titleholders spearheaded by the otherworldly Jordan did not translate to a blissful pursuit of a collective objective. Far from it, in fact; they were slated for destruction, with general manager Jerry Krause determined to break them apart at the end of their campaign, hence the title of ESPN’s 10-part opus. And, in between, they had to deal with a disillusioned All-Star in Scottie Pippen, a distracted vital cog in Dennis Rodman, and a lame-duck head coach in Phil Jackson.
Needless to say, Jordan’s utter refusal to accept losing kept the Bulls focused on their ultimate goal. He was relentless and determined; if this was their final run, he argued, they would go out in a blaze of glory. And they did, but not before leaving a trail of bitterness and recrimination on which The Last Dance shines an illuminating light. Responsible for building the team following Jordan’s arrival, Krause delivered the goods. Unfortunately, the latter was likewise too prideful to bask in the returns sans the clearly desired public acknowledgement. No one front-office type in the proper frame of mind would have wished to rebuild while at the top.
Certainly, the Bulls were at the pinnacle when they let Jackson and Jordan (fresh off a fifth Most Valuable Player and sixth Finals MVP award) walk away, and then traded Pippen prior to the start of the lockout-truncated 1999 campaign. Krause made a mistake, and it would cement his role as the villain of the Dynasty. That said, he also deserved due recognition as its principal architect. He wanted it, only to get it too late; his inclusion in the 2017 class of the Naismith Basketball Memorial Hall of Fame came 10 days after his death.
Life is never just black or white. People are complicated. And if there’s anything The Last Dance has shown so far, it’s that even seemingly inevitable achievements cannot but be frayed at the edges; lost in the enveloping facade of good vibes are deep-seated emotions that tend to carry well past the celebrations and through new challenges. Little wonder, then, that it took so long for Jordan to green light, and, once out, that it took so little for the world to embrace.
Anthony L. Cuaycong has been writing Courtside since BusinessWorld introduced a Sports section in 1994.
