(670 The Score) Themes are emerging in "The Last Dance" on ESPN to explain how Michael Jordan and the Bulls were able to will themselves to a sixth and final NBA championship even as so many forces were working against them, both internally and externally.
One is the subtext of Jordan's innate competitiveness, which can be viewed as anything from a heroic sense of purpose and honorable quest for greatness to a twisted and pathological addiction. Jordan's ruthlessness as a team leader and his thirst to drink the tears of his enemies -- actual rivals and perceived motivational antagonists alike -- came from the same burning place as his insatiable appetite for gambling on the golf course, at the card table or in the back of the plane. These are manifestations of the same trait, one that can be interpreted fairly as either attribute, disorder or both. There's no right answer.
But another that we see playing out involves his work ethic, which informs so many of his professional relationships. It's a simple yet powerful standard, and it applied to his coaches, teammates, Bulls staffers and even the reporters with whom he enjoyed a cordial and symbiotic interaction.
Jordan always recognized who was consistent and who wasn't, who kept showing up and who didn't, who always did something more and who was content just to get by. The idea of working as hard as possible was fundamental to him to the point of being sacrosanct, and he took note of those in his orbit.
Someone new to the heyday Bulls might be surprised at the overall ease of access there was to a person so globally famous at the time, but it was the way of things when the credentialed media were the direct conduit to fans and public before social media and immediacy of information both democratized and confused the process. Jordan would talk after practice twice per week and never avoided postgame responsibilities at his locker, even after difficult losses. The playoffs only saw him become more available instead of the opposite, with the league office taking over an increasing amount of the PR management with each next series.
Jordan may not have known every name, but he knew who you were, how long you had been around and how dedicated you were to your particular job. As time would go on, his decision to take a few more minutes than usual or overrule a team staffer to accommodate an extra question or two was only for those who had proven worthy somehow, by displaying what he believed to be a requirement. He expected everyone to care about winning at what they did as much as he did about being an NBA champion, even if such an analogy didn't quite make the same kind of sense when applied elsewhere. It was the way Michael Jordan the basketball player looked at the world.
There are reasons why such an approach might also have made his life more difficult as a team executive and owner, when these judgments have to be more complicated and nuanced. It's not as easy as calling out a teammate for being late to lift weights or going through the motions at a gameday shootaround, as the evidence of such dedication on the part of scouts and talent evaluators is more inscrutable and diffuse. It's difficult to do other jobs obviously "hard" or in a genuine way that's something other than mere eyewash.
It also makes his enmity for then-Bulls general manager Jerry Krause even more clear, in that he was seemingly exempt from this rule despite his legendary single-mindedness. Even that wasn't enough for Krause to earn legitimacy in Jordan's eyes, which says much.
Few aspects ever carried more weight with Jordan than being where you were supposed to be when you were supposed to be there and giving your best effort. He was only applying to others what he asked of himself, and he kept score.
Dan Bernstein is the host of the Dan Bernstein Show on middays from 9 a.m. until noon on 670 The Score. You can follow him on Twitter @Dan_Bernstein.
