CP Chronicle 190

IT'S HOCKEY NIGHT IN CANADA EVERY OTHER NIGHT AT SPUD CENTRAL. AT LEAST UNTIL THE MAPLE LEAVES FALL FROM THE TREE.

First and foremost, I must tell you that it has been one crazy ass week. I've been watching playoff hockey and the last straggling episodes of my favourite TV shows. The Leafs/Flyers series has been absolutely amazing. These teams are playing with so much force, it's actually quite exhausting to get through a game, not to mention the actual amount of hockey that's being played with double and triple overtime games back to back, these guys have to be completely bushed too. Yet they play on, slamming eachother around in that sadistic fashion that only pro hockey players can muster. I know I've done a bit of a 180 on hockey. Blame it on Don Cherry. Except for his wardrobe the guy makes a hell of a lot of sense. The Wife took off on Monday to deliver the Princess of Pain to her new digs in Montreal, leaving me carless for two days to cycle all over town in a fifty click wind. My ass was feeling it on Tuesday when I hobbled out of bed. Then Tuesday night, I had to go to a studio and be interviewed for the "Behind The Scenes" segment of "Into The Heat". It meant wearing real clothing, but other than that, it was cool, 'cause I got to meet the cast and some of the crew of my own movie and it was a ton of fun. I don't know how I came off though, as I've never been interviewed like that before.

Anyway, you can be the judge of that when the movie comes out on DVD sometime later this year. Then I got really busy with work. Then there was some more hockey. The Wife came back. Then it was a short week. Then another hockey game. Yadda. Yadda. The damn week just got away from just plain got away from me. Nary a movie was viewed. Although we did manage to cram in the last four episodes of season one of Six Feet Under, which I thought was uniformly excellent from top to bottom. I sort of see Van Fleet's point here, there does seem to be a lot of emphasis on the homosexual subtheme, but I would argue that it's not taking up a lot more space than any of the other stuff. But my whole thing with sex scenes is 'the raunchier the better'.

While I was watching the Leaves, The Wife did watch Evelyn, which starred Pierce Brosnan, which she she rated at one and one half Spuds. I'm not sure what that means and she refuses to elaborate. I'm assuming that this is some sort of chick flick, since Pierce played a recovering alcoholic who is trying to maintain custody of his kids, yadda, yadda. Have the Kleenex handy, I guess. Anyway, since I had a rather sporting week, I thought I'd write about something sports like for a change.

MICHAEL JORDAN (2 XL SPUDS)

Tonight, as the Maple Leaves and Flyers retired to their dressing rooms to get ready for overtime, I flipped over to The Score and caught a single brief shining moment of sports history. It was Michael Jordan completing a final free throw late in the last game of the season between the Philadelphia 76ers and Jordan's Washington Wizards. After the free throw, Mike walked to the bench and sat there for a couple of minutes while the crowd in the Philadelphia Forum went wild with a prolonged standing ovation. Mike was smiling shyly, almost embarrassed at the adulation and appreciation he was receiving. He got up and walked onto the court. Just a few feet. Hey, the man had been centre stage for many of the past 15 years. He only needed a few feet this time. He waved his hand at the crowd, still looking a bit incredulous and humbled by the experience. Then he sat down again. After a few moments, the crowd quieted and the game, with only 40 seconds left, went on. That's the way it is with sports.

The Wizards missed making the playoffs, if only by a hair. So this was Michael Jordan's last appearance in a pro basketball uniform. So getting to see him shoot his last shot was kind of nifty.

If I were a real sports reporter, right now I would now be digging out the facts that support the incredibleness of Michael's career. But there isn't a Spud among you who doesn't know who Michael Jordan is. Many of you may even be familiar with a number of his achievements, which pepper the records books, along with a few shining moments. Moments like his slam dunk competition winner at the 1994 all star game -- a simple perfectly executed launch from the foul line and sailed with gravity defying "hang time", which elevated his legend to pure myth and gave rise to the Michael Jordan brand. Moments like the last fall away jumper that brought Michael and his legendary Chicago Bulls their sixth NBA title in 10 years. Michael was just inside the three point arc. He stepped back, elevated and fired a perfect, smoothly arching rainbow jumper that made just the slightest of swooshes as it caught the net and brought him his sixth NBA Championship ring. He held his position for a few seconds, savouring the moment, and nobody deserved to savour it more than Mike.

In the company of Mohammed Ali, and maybe Tiger Woods, Michael Jordan is still the best known figure on the planet. He has achieved more than any other athlete in the history of sports in terms of recognition, money and pure adulation. He was one of the first black athletes to become a "brand", and that brand is still one of the most successful in the world

If you were a basketball fan in the 1990s, you got to watch Michael lead his team to an unprecedented number of championships within that decade. You got to watch Michael re-define and raise the definitional bar for the word 'superstar' and you got to watch him lead the NBA onto the world market and become the world's richest and most powerful sports entities.

How does a single individual manage to pull of all this? Apparently with a million dollar smile, a billion dollar dream and a hell of a lot of talent. Watching Michael Jordan play in the 1990s was one of the real joys of my Spud life. Unlike many of the superstars who came before him, Michael had the total game, offense, defense, locker room and on camera. Even though most of what you were able to see on TV before Michael Jordan came along were just the playoffs. Michael was responsible for changing that too. He was at the apex of a number of traditional basketball rivalries, Bulls-Knicks (Patrick Ewing). Bull-Celtics (Larry Bird) Bulls-Lakers (James Worthy, Kareem Abdul-Jabaar & the amazing Magic Johnson). Bulls-Pistons (Issiah Thomas & Joe Dumars) Bulls-Jazz (Karl Malone & John Stockton). Those were amazing days, long before the super big men like Shaquille O'Neil, and Yao Ming, who just stand in the low post and slam down 30 points a night.

Michael Jordan defined his era the way players like Allen Iverson, Kobe Bryant, Steve Nash & Kevin Garnett define the game today. But for me, there will never be quite the same kind of magic as Michael and the superstars of the 80s and 90s brought to the game. Those from the generation before me probably feel the same about Wilt "The Stilt' Charmberlain, Pistol Pete Marovich, Julius Irving and Bill Russell, all of whom hold a number of NBA records that are yet to be broken.
Michael won't go far from the NBA, since he is the majority owner of the Washington Wizards. He'll be around helping his team, bringing the kids along with advice that's worth its weight in gold. He'll be around being Michael Jordan, breaking down walls and opening doors for black people in America and gifted athletes in sport. But mostly, he'll be around to serve as a reminder of just how great greatness actually gets.

Thanks Mike.

Like I said, other than the Pierce Brosnan flick, and the Six Feet Under eps, no videos were viewed or movies at Spud Central this week. If you want to know what's going on video wise, I'd refer you to recent Spud, Norman Wilner, who writes a most excellent video review page in the Toronto Star Star Week TV guide. Norman's got the goods and he seems to like the same sort of stuff I do. Poor Norman.

See you next week.

COPYRIGHT 2003, Jim Murray COUCH POTATO CHRONICLES