MJ Moment No. 8

8. The scene: Game 7, 1998 Eastern Conference Finals against the Indiana Pacers. Chicago hadn't been pushed to a Game 7 since 1992 against the Knicks, and this was one of the few games in which I've felt more anxiety/stress than general enjoyment as I normally did whenever I would watch MJ play. However it had gotten to that point (a complete meltdown in Game 4 that had Phil invoking the 1972 Munich Olympics, including an unbelievably blatant push-off by Miller on his game-winning three, and then a no-call in Game 6 on the last play when Jordan had so obviously been tripped) -- there was nevertheless an uneasiness and uncertainty about the Bulls that I'd rarely seen in them during their three-year run since Jordan had returned from his first retirement.

It was that way much throughout the game, and even Jordan wasn't immune. His shot wasn't falling, and the Bulls were down by as much as 13 at one point, 5 with only a few minutes left. I can still distinctly remember sitting stock-still on my couch at one point, wondering in disbelief if Chicago's run at a sixth title and second three-peat was actually going to end this way.

After all, this wasn't 1992 anymore, when he tossed up a seemingly effortless 42 points as if on command, in leading the Bulls to a blow-out victory over the Knicks in that Game 7. Signs that age and fatigue were finally catching up to him had started to show throughout the year, and never had he looked more like a legend on his last, weary legs than in that series against Indiana.

And then, as he had so many times before, Jordan went to work. But this time, it wasn't the dunking, twisting through three defenders for an impossible lay-up, dropping jumpers from everywhere Jordan -- or what I like to call the "F*** you, I am taking over this game by myself and there's nothing you can do about it" Jordan (always good times when that Jordan would come out, by the way). It was the "F*** you, I don't have to be the hero, but we are not losing this game no matter what" Jordan.

And in an odd way, that Jordan was even more compelling and beautiful to watch. Putting his head down, driving into the lane, and getting absolutely killed by three Pacer defenders for a couple free throws. And then doing it again. And then again. Not hesitating for a moment to drop the ball off to Luc Longley (Luc Longley!) for a tie-breaking jumpshot. Out-fighting two Pacers on a missed free throw by Pippen for a critical offensive rebound. Absolutely sucking wind in the game's final moments, as gassed as I'd ever seen a man who for so many years had seemed indefatigable.

Talk of Jordan's competitiveness and "will to win" is always bandied about when people discuss the things that made him who he was. And even though this game is rarely remembered as one of his greatest games -- the countless game-winners and 50 point games being so much more satisfying and easier to recall and admire -- for me, at least, few games demonstrated that will to win in more stark or visceral a fashion than this one did.