s one of those times when you remember where you were when you heard.
Michael Jordan was returning to the NBA and the Chicago Bulls.
It was 20 years ago, March 18, a Saturday then when Jordan through his agent, David Falk, issued the most famous two-word press release in sports history.
“I’m back!” it read.
The Bulls Wednesday in an appropriate symmetry play the Indiana Pacers, against whom a day later Jordan began his comeback that would lead to three more consecutive NBA championships for the Bulls and would assure Jordan’s informal place as the greatest player in NBA history.
So the chase was on to get to Indianapolis, where Jordan would play his first NBA game since the Bulls third straight championship in 1993, the shocking murder of his father and then the stunning news in October at Comiskey Park as the White Sox prepared to open the playoffs that Jordan was retiring—he said for good—from the NBA.
And then here he was, 21 months after his last NBA game, following some 10 days of mounting anticipation that even included President Bill Clinton during a press conference saying without encouragement, “The economy has produced 6.1 million jobs since I became president and if Michael Jordan comes back to the Bulls, it will be 6,100,001 jobs."
Yes, this was being watched.
It was the biggest sports story of the year. And nothing happened.
It was the second biggest sports story in the last 21 months.
Given it was Michael, and he always surprised, even the Bulls weren’t sure.
It would not be until just before Jordan’s return in Indianapolis he finally told the Bulls he was ready even after he’d been practicing with the team for a week or so. No one was ready for this.
The Bulls were certain in 1993 that Jordan’s career was over. Jordan said so. Told them and told them, and told reporters when his retirement ceremony came up with the jersey going up and the statue being unveiled and the Bulls buying a new shooting guard, the most expensive on the market, Ron Harper, for the most the money franchise ever spent for a free agent. The Bulls had a wonderful and surprising 1993-94 season without Jordan, winning 55 games, a season Phil Jackson said was as satisfying as any. The system did work. There would be the infamous Hue Hollins foul call against Scottie Pippen than enabled the Knicks to survive and eventually beat the Bulls in the seventh game in the conference semifinals.
But the Bulls were certain Jordan wasn’t coming back. He’d said. And they never would have done what they did if they even had an inkling. They’d even tried to trade Pippen after the 1993-94 season. Jordan had gone to fulfill a childhood dream of his father’s as much as his own to play baseball with the Chicago White Sox AA affiliate, to compete but to get away from the pressure and the noise, the demands and having to be Michael Jordan.
He wasn’t great, not Jordanesque, as it were. But better than the critics suggested. And with a stint in fall league when Jordan batted a respectable .252 playing against the likes of kids like Derek Jeter, the White Sox were beginning to wonder. One more baseball season and they believed he could play in the major leagues, at least as a September call up. Jordan really wanted that, famously to silence his doubters and critics, and to achieve the goal. He knew he could and he would despite what they all said.
But baseball was in disarray like never before.
The 1994 World Series had been cancelled and spring training was starting with replacement players. Jordan couldn’t wait to get back to baseball after that fall session. But there was nowhere to go. Each side now wanted to use him for propaganda, and he hated that more than anything. He’d always said he would never be, as he put it, “a show pony.” It’s why even when he purchased the Charlotte franchise he wouldn’t do appearances. He was selling excellence; not Michael Jordan.
Bulls managing partner Jerry Reinsdorf advised Jordan he could not be a replacement player. He could stay with the minor leaguers, but then he’d have to stay out of the major le