The Fictional Michael Jordan

Within every great lie is a nugget of truth. Michael Jeffrey Jordan was indeed drafted by the Chicago Bulls in the 1984 NBA draft. But that truth-nugget is one of the few you’ll find here, in a wicked tale of deception that will shock you to your very core.

Part 1) A Lie is Born

Spring, 1984.

New NBA commissioner David Stern has seen the future. For the past five years, the NBA’s profits have increased significantly, mainly due to the emergence of two superstars: Larry Bird and ‘Earvin’ Magic Johnson. Stern realises that eventually his two stars will step away from the game. For the NBA’s success to continue, he’ll need a replacement.

The commissioner has a singular vision — what if one player could step in and fill the void left by two? He envisions a worldwide superstar to promote the league behind. Someone with the skills of Bird, the flash of Magic, and the athleticism of neither; someone who can shoot and dunk, and whose face fans would want on t-shirts and posters.

But who?

He looks for a young player, someone who can build a reputation while Bird and Magic battle for titles. Stern looks at the 1984 draft and sees Michael Jordan. Jordan is athletic, handsome, and personable. There’s just one problem — he’s not very good at basketball.

And it’s here, at this critical juncture, that Stern has a dark revelation, one that will change the NBA’s future forever.

If you can’t find a superstar, why not create one?

Summer, 1984.

Stern secretly meets with executives from Nike, Gatorade, the Chicago Bulls, and Lucasfilm. He reveals his grand scheme. With dollar signs in their eyes, the group agree to join him. A conspiracy is born.

As the 1984–85 season looms, Stern’s idea becomes reality. Nike hides aeronautic technology in Jordan’s shoes that will allow him to elevate for highlight dunks. Engineers incorporate magnets into balls and rims that can steer Jordan’s errant shots through the hoop. Lucasfilm artists edit TV broadcasts in real-time in order to portray MJ as dominating games.

‘But wait’, you may ask, ‘wouldn’t people in the arena notice something suspicious?’ You naive fool. Would a fan rather say, ‘There was something funny about last night’s game’, or ‘I was there when Jordan dunked over six players and scored 50 points’? Any fan bold or crazy enough to speak out would be seen as a bitter loser or a maniac. The season tips-off. The Great Deception begins.

Part 2) The Hero With a Thousand Sneakers

Although Stern has created a superstar, he understands that Jordan can’t experience immediate success. For two reasons:

1) Because Bird and Magic are still at their peaks
2) Because Joseph Campbell

The commish has read Campbell’s work on storytelling. He knows audiences will only accept a hero who has faced setbacks. While Magic and Bird duel for titles, Stern invokes Storytelling 101, manufacturing obstacles Jordan must ‘struggle’ to overcome on his rise to greatness.

Story archetype 1: Man v Himself

Stern has media members in his pocket. He has them write stories about ‘defects’ in Jordan’s game:

“Jordan can’t shoot”. He develops a long-range jumpshot (magnets).
“Okay, he can shoot but he can’t pass”. He plays point-guard and averages double-figure assists (special effects and magnets)
“He can’t defend”. He becomes an elite defender (Stickum and the drugging of opposing players).
“He can’t win”. Which leads us to…

Story archetype 2: Man vs Man (Boys. Bad ones)

Here is where Stern’s storytelling is most blatant. Casting the ‘Bad Boy’ Detroit Pistons as bullies, he has them beat on poor little Michael until he bleeds. Jordan loses a playoff series to them in five games. Then six. Then seven. Every summer he trains to get physically stronger, to get closer to defeating them. Then he finally succeeds. I don’t read comics, but isn’t that like when the school bully stuffs Peter Parker in a locker? What does Petey do? He escapes, trains harder, then returns to murder the bully. His arch-rival defeated, MJ appears in his first Finals series. And who awaits him at the top of the pyramid? Magic, the veteran about to be replaced.

(Johnson was one of the few players who discovered Stern’s plan and threatened to reveal all. The commish clearly paid him off. How else would Johnson end up as a coach, commentator, and Lakers president, all positions he was unqualified for?)

Jordan wins his first title. The league makes record profits. And no one else suspects a thing. Stern’s evil plan has succeeded. So it continues.

1992.
In Game One of the Finals, Jordan incredibly hits six three-pointers in the first half (magnets) over slow-moving Portland players (drugs). That performance ensures audience numbers will stay high for the rest of the series. MJ wins his second title.

Story Archetype 3: Friend Turned Foe

1993.
Stern orchestrates the trading of Jordan’s buddy, Charles Barkley, from the Eastern Conference to the West so the pair can face off in the Finals. Trash talk between the two brings in a record audience. Jordan wins title #3.

Part 3) A Trilogy of Lies

“There’s something right nice about the number three” — Joseph Campbell

Stern understands that stories should be organised into triplets (think of three-act structure and the Indiana Jones trilogy). Fans would lose interest if Jordan won a fourth consecutive title. Stern considers having Jordan injured again, but MJ inadvertently offers his own solution. He’s grown jaded of all the assisted winning. But Stern refuses to let him play in the NBA unaided in case it damages the league’s image. So Jordan leaves to play baseball and see how he can fare on his own.

With the NBA more popular than ever and his pockets bulging, Stern looks optimistically to the future. Fans drawn in by Jordan’s success will keep watching after he leaves. At least for a few years, long enough for the commissioner to find a suitable replacement.

Until…

1994.
The Rockets/Knicks Finals matchup is so ugly that fans would rather watch a slow car-chase. Viewing figures fall through the floor. Stern is in a panic. Jordan is a baseball failure. They need each other. Call it a comeback.

1995.
A two-word fax (“I’m black”) announces the hero’s return like a Batarang jammed in a criminal’s eyeball. Nevertheless, Stern abides by Campbell’s rules. Jordan, once again, has to struggle. Facing elimination against Dennis Scott’s Orlando Magic, MJ ‘loses sight’ of his defender at a critical moment. The Bulls fail to reach the Finals.

Jordan is so ‘disappointed’ by the loss that he dedicates his off-season to getting back into ‘basketball-shape’. He installs a basketball court on the set of Space Jam (a film made by some of the very same people helping him cheat in the NBA). Short video clips show him working hard on his game (a lesson from Rocky — fans love a training montage).

1996–1998.
The Return of the King. A bunch of pseudo-stars are marched out for fans stupid enough to think Jordan might fail again. Karl Malone, John Stockton, Detlef Schrempf. In one game Jordan has ‘the flu’ and still scores 38 points. His 98' finale is pure TV movie — a steal and a series-winning jumpshot over Bryon Russell (who is so drugged he can’t even stand up straight). With another triplet of titles collected, Jordan walks off court and into retirement. The end.

Right?

Wrong.

Just like Return of the King, we get more endings than we need or want.

Part 4) Stop It

After a two-year absence, Jordan wants to make one more return. But, this time, Stern refuses. The internet has lead to streaming video and fans sharing footage from within arenas, so the risk of Stern’s plan being exposed is too great. Denied another comeback, Jordan threatens to reveal all. Stern compromises — Jordan can return, but unassisted. Whatever success he would have (now as a Washington Wizard) would be entirely dependent on his own abilities. And Stern’s media shills could blame age for his failures. With no gadgetry or CGI to make him look like a decent NBA player, Jordan disappoints for two seasons, then retires again, this time for good.

Part 5) Aftermath

Today.

Fans sucked in by the Jordan era became permanent customers. The league’s revenues remain sky-high. Stern sits on a personal wealth of over $18 billion. Jordan owns a G-League team in Charlotte. Both these men and the league itself have profited heavily from a lie, one told brazenly under the noses of an unsuspecting American audience.

So what of Stern’s devious tactics in the post-Jordan era? Well, paranoia consumed him, as it should. He worried so much about being exposed that he never used those tools again (making a single exception to eliminate Sacramento from the 2002 playoffs). In 2014, he was replaced as commissioner by Adam Silver. Silver, equally as paranoid as Stern, would never use such deception.

Would he?