I’m a sports nut.
As I sit here writing this, there is an NBA basketball game on television in the background and I am wearing a North Carolina Tar Heels championship T-shirt, Michael Jordan Brand sandals and a pair of Nike basketball shorts even though, sadly, it has been years since I actually played basketball.
I was already a sports fan at a young age, thanks to my dad playing and watching games with me, but I remember the day it went to the next level. It was May 7, 1989, and I was 8-years-old, a few months away from turning 9.
Sitting next to my dad on our beat-up old red couch (actually my last memories of it are as beat-up but back then it was probably fairly new) with my little sister playing on the floor, I remember my mom calling out that dinner was ready.
“Just a second,” we yelled, “the game is almost over.”
So my mom came over to join us in watching the final moments of the Chicago Bulls playing the Cleveland Cavaliers in Game 5 of the first round of the Eastern Conference playoffs. With the teams tied 2-2, the winner of this game would advance to the next round.
Michael “Air” Jordan was already my favorite player, his dunking ability appealing greatly to my 8-year-old sensibilities. My second most favorite thing about Jordan was that every time he took a shot or drove toward the basket, he stuck out his tongue in an unconscious expression of intense concentration.
In 1989, we were living in Massachusetts, which meant the Boston Celtics and their star Larry Bird were on TV much more often. I liked Bird … but I loved Jordan.
Back then, there was no cable or satellite package where you could pay $169.99 to have access to channels that show every NBA game, every night of the season. There was no YouTube. So if you liked a player that wasn’t from your local team, you had to wait for them to play your local team or to come on the Sunday national TV game. And, you waited for the playoffs when most of the games were broadcast across the country.
On this day, my hero Michael Jordan scored 44 points, but I had to look that number up. The game was broadcast on CBS, but I found that out from Google. I even had to check the date on Wikipedia. Jordan’s game-winning shot though, is something I’ve never forgotten.
The Bulls were trailing by one point, 100-99, with just three seconds left in the game. To borrow a sports cliché (trust me I’ve been working hard not to use more in this story) everyone in the building, everyone who was watching on TV and most importantly everyone on the Cavaliers who would be playing defense, knew Jordan would take the last shot.
The main defender was Craig Ehlo, a strong player who had made the basket just moments earlier that had given Cleveland the precarious one-point lead it was now clinging too. Ehlo was recognizable not only for his skill, but also because of his distinctive hair reminiscent of a blond mop.
Ehlo was in position to block the shot when they both jumped in the air, but Jordan, living up to his nickname, simply hung in the air for what seemed like an extra full second, opening himself up for a 17-foot shot that went through the hoop just as the final buzzer sounded.
Jordan punctuated the shot with a leaping celebration … and I experienced a feeling of excitement that I never remember feeling before that day, but have felt thousands of times since. It doesn’t matter if it is the NBA playoffs, the Super Bowl or a Little League game in my current hometown of Davis, California. Just the other day I went to a high school boys basketball game at Davis High, my alma mater, and got this feeling when the student fans stormed the court following an important victory.
I am a sports nut, and that feeling is the reason.
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