Decision
is a running joke that may end up being the second or third line of his obituary.
Why? Why are two of the four or five greatest basketball players in the history of the game treated so differently? Is Jordan so morally superior that he deserves no criticism while the other is so morally reprehensible he deserves it all?
No. Far from it. Couldn’t be further from the truth.
To accurately assess the phenomenon, start with one word: Nike.
I am in no way insinuating that Michael Jordan didn’t do his part to fuel his popularity. But part of his appeal—a
big
part of his appeal—is that he had the greatest marketing ever put forth on behalf of an athlete.
Marketing creates popularity, and popularity creates a shield. Nobody on earth—nobody in the
history
of the earth—is marketed more thoroughly and effectively than Michael Jordan. It’s not even close. Nike is the only company that can create a marketing campaign that drives public opinion. And that’s not open for debate, either.
The type of campaign Nike runs creates an army of people who do the groundwork. They spread the word. They defend against all critics. This army of evangelists works in concert with the larger campaign to create an airtight, indestructible image.
It’s nothing less than a real-life superpower.
If you have it, nothing can penetrate. If you don’t, you’re going to have a hard time shedding anything even remotely negative.
Take USC football coach Lane Kiffin. He’s unpopular for any number of reasons. He got too much too soon when Al Davis hired him to be the youngest head coach in the NFL. He was an ingrate when he dared to question Grandpa Al’s football acumen after being fired by the Raiders. He’s considered cocky and egomaniacal. He remains Public Enemy No. 1 in Tennessee for the slippery way he left his job as head coach of the Volunteers. Kiffin is not always deft when it comes to public relations, so everything sticks to him. Big stuff, little stuff—doesn’t matter. If it went wrong, blame Lane. The Trojans were part of a ball-deflating scandal in 2012. He knew nothing about it and had nothing to do with it. He got blamed.
Unpopular guy: everything sticks.
Popular guy: nothing sticks.
We hold these truths to be self-evident.
The closest comparison to Jordan is Ronald Reagan. His “marketing” campaign was a political movement that anointed him to save the country after Jimmy Carter, and the movement served as his Nike. Reagan was an immensely popular president, and his popularity was remarkably persistent. It withstood despite Iran-Contra, losing 241 Marines in Lebanon, and goofy jokes about bombing the Soviet Union. What did Reagan’s popularity get him? A lifetime—and beyond—pass that led the country to consider putting him on Mount Rushmore. Nothing could touch Saint Ronnie, and his popularity made him be known as The Teflon President.
Michael Jordan is the Ronald Reagan of the sports world.
He punched two teammates in practice sessions.
Didn’t stick.
He called Kwame Brown a homosexual slur.
Didn’t stick.
He was serially unfaithful to his wife.
Didn’t stick.
He left the NBA during his prime in a frivolous attempt to pursue a baseball career amid rumors and allegations that he was forced out because of gambling problems.
Didn’t stick.
He gave an outrageously petty Hall of Fame speech, going so far as to ridicule an old man who had the audacity to keep him on the junior varsity team when he was a sophomore in high school.
Didn’t stick.
He is one of the most ineffective, even
inept
, decision-makers as president of the Charlotte Bobcats.
Didn’t stick.
Indestructible and invincible must be a pretty cool way to go through life.
To make one thing clear: Jordan was the best basketball player I ever saw, but Nike created a mythical figure, where flaws disappear and attributes take on legendary status.
Jordan is the first athlete to literally become his own brand. It’s almost