1.) So many people who were in the news when I was growing up have died this year. It's like this year is the end of an era.
Some of those newsworthy people include
- Queen Elizabeth II
- Mikhail Gorbachev (the last leader of the Soviet Union before the break-up)
- Bernard Shaw (CNN reporter most famous for his reporting during the 1st Gulf War)
- Madeline Albright (US Secretary of State under Bill Clinton)
- Ken Starr (the prosecutor who went after Bill Clinton for lying about his affair with Monica Lewinsky)
- Olivia Newton-John (singer/actress)
- Sidney Portier (1st African-American actor to win an Oscar award)
- Bill Russell (the real NBA "Greatest Of All Time", he had 11 championships, Michael Jordan only had 6)
- Naomi Judd (country music singer)
- Taylor Hawkins (drummer for rock band "Foo Fighters")
- Meat Loaf (rock-opera singer)
- Bob Saget (TV comedian)
Queen Elizabeth II
Mikhail Gorbachev
Bill Russell
The Last Dance sends the message to everyone—particularly young ballplayers—that winning in sports and life demands that you be the bully. Everything is justified, if the ends involve confetti and rings. Even hauling off and punching someone smaller than you in the face, as Jordan did with teammate Steve Kerr, is remembered as something closer to a bonding experience—a macho rite of passage—than as an embarrassing loss of temper.
The Last Dance, like its protagonist, shrugs its shoulders and says, in effect, that this is the price of greatness. But is it? If this entire series weren’t just an exercise in Jordan brand extension for the 21st century, it might ask this question. It could examine other examples of greatness and ask if being “like Mike” is how you come out a winner. If it did, this thesis would collapse under scrutiny.
Just look at Bill Russell. The Celtics great is the most prolific winner in NBA history, with 11 championships in 13 years. Russell’s style of leadership did not involve demeaning and denigration. The great Frank Deford, in a brilliant 1999 profile of Russell, called him “the most divine teammate there ever was.” “‘He was just so nice to be with on the team,’ says Frank Ramsey, who played with Russell from 1956 to ’64, Russell’s first eight years in the NBA. ‘It was only when others came around that he set up that wall…’”
For Russell, the love was saved for his team. The wall came up as sponsors, fans, and opponents demanded their piece of him. Jordan was the opposite. Outside the team, he gave us that winning smile and sold us products, but his squad got the back of his hand. Jordan was pure capitalism: expanding his brand off the court, and a cutthroat bully with his own team. Russell was pure resistance: finding love and solidarity among teammates and fiercely holding onto his sense of self off of the court.
and this
His white teammates who didn’t show him solidarity, particularly on Russell’s proud struggles against racism, still loved him then and feel guilty today that they didn’t do more. One gets the feeling that the only regrets Jordan’s teammates have is that they didn’t stand up to him more and instead let him break their will.
and this
Russell had teammates who became his brothers for life. Jordan has generated only wary respect and resentful awe.
and most importantly, this
If The Last Dance had courage, it would be a cautionary tale instead of a hagiography. It would not only explore the price of greatness, or whatever such branded nonsense. It would be a warning: You don’t need to act this way if you want to win. It’s actually antithetical to what’s best about sports. You can get away with being the bully when you’re the best player on the planet. But being able to bully someone is not the same as a justification to do so. It’s exercising power over someone just for the sake of doing so. That’s not admirable. That’s abusive. Rings don’t make it right.