A basketball player made front-page headlines this week by announcing his retirement, but there wasn't much else going on in the world. Congress was trying to impeach a president. Iraq was taunting U.S. warplanes. An Olympic bribery scandal was festering. So, naturally, Michael Jordan's good-bye was the top story.
Several newspapers published special sections in a tribute to MJ. The morning TV shows were filled with Michael. The radio gab shows were the same: more Air time. The man on the street: same thing. There was nothing else to talk about.That's how big Jordan was and is. Before we finish our farewells to his Airness, consider exactly what it is that we're saying farewell to, so we can fully appreciate the rarity of the man and the moment. We're saying good-bye to Babe Ruth, good-bye to Lindbergh, good-bye to the Beatles. We're saying good-bye to a genuine American icon who is not likely to be matched for decades, if then.
In retiring from basketball, Jordan joins a select group of sports icons. Icons so big they're not icons; they're bigger than that. They're what we'll call epics. There have been only four epics to emerge from the sports world in the 20th century (please, feel free to disagree). Four in 100 years of sports:
1. Ruth. 2. Ali. 3. Jordan. 4. Pele.
And what of the rest of them, you're wondering? What about Palmer, Owens, Gretzky, Dempsey, Henie, Jackie Robinson, Mantle, Magic, Bird, Nagurski, Montana, Nurmi? They wrote a song about DiMaggio. They named a disease after Gehrig. They made movies about Didriksen, Rudolph, Cobb and Thorpe.
Great athletes all, but, again, we're talking about something bigger than that. They don't meet the criteria for making the epic list. Only the Big Four meets the requirements (for what it's worth, Thorpe just missed the cut). The requirements for Epic are roughly as follows:
-- They transcend sports, along with nationality, race and religion. They are internationally famous to even those who don't follow sports. If you're walking in London and mention the name of Ali to a man on the street, he knows who you're talking about. Housewives and children know the name, too. These are icons so big that two hundred billion Chinese do care. They had such broad appeal that Jordan is virtually colorless and no one cares anymore about Ali's religious conversion, once viewed as so militant.
-- They had personal charisma. This is one of the reasons they transcend sport. Their athletic feats only partly explain their transcendence. Otherwise, why not Wilt Chamberlain or Carl Lewis? Ali was not the greatest boxer ever -- Marciano was unbeaten and no one talks about him -- but Ali's fame and adulation, his charm and personality, his aura, made him bigger than life. An epic has such power over people that he can bring tears to their eyes just by lighting an Olympic torch. Pele had that charisma. So, most certainly, did Jordan and Ruth. Each of them had presence.
-- There were legends in their own time and for all time. The epics didn't suffer the same fate as painters; they were recognized for what they were in their day, and then it grew from there. Fifty years, even 100 years later, people can still identify the name. Kids will ask you someday, Did you see Jordan play?
-- They are known by a single name, or a nickname, or several nicknames, no more information required. Pele. Michael. MJ. Ali. Bambino. Babe. Airness. Air. Sultan of Swat. Can you even remember what Pele's real name was? Or Ruth's?
-- They propelled their sport to new heights of popularity and altered the sport itself. Pele took soccer to the United States and helped gain a foothold there. Ruth made the home run part of our culture and made the game our national pastime. Ali brought boxing and the black athlete into American living rooms. Jordan made the dunk basketball's version of the home run and, along with Magic and Bird, made the NBA what it is today.
-- They were big winners on the field and took on a mystique of invincibility. Their feats were unprecedented, the stuff of myths.
-- If you have to look up what exactly it is that they did, they don't make the list.
-- They made their mark on society at large. Pele was a household name wherever they play soccer, and they play soccer everywhere. Brazil made him an official national treasure just so he couldn't leave the country and play in Europe.
Jordan held such sway over people that when he shaved his head, an generation went bald with a razor and didn't even have to. It didn't matter that Jordan was doing it because he had limited options; he lost his hair. When he wore baggy shorts, so did everybody else. It didn't matter that his reasons were more practical -- he wanted room to wear his lucky college shorts underneath the shorts.
Statues were built for the epics. Things were named after them. Movies were made about them. Nicknames were assigned to them.
They named a candy bar after Ruth, and there was The House that Ruth Built. They made Ali an unofficial ambassador of goodwill to the world. Jordan not only had his own statue while he was alive, but while he was still playing.
-- They had their trademarks: Ruth's gut and home-run trot, Jordan's wagging tongue, Pele's smile, Ali's lyrical, playful articulations.
So Michael has joined an exclusive club. What will he do with the rest of his life, as one of the world's few living epics?
We can only hope that history doesn't repeat itself where epics and icons are concerned. Ruth despaired in middle age and died young of throat cancer. Ali -- well, we all know about him. Sports icons have had their troubles. There seems to be a price to pay for going through life as a hero. Thorpe died penniless in a trailer court. Mantle drank himself to death. Gehrig and Didriksen also died young of cancer. Magic is HIV-positive. Owens struggled financially for years, though he eventually earned security. Others were able to age gracefully -- DiMaggio, Pele, Nagurski, Palmer, Henie.
Jordan already is one step ahead of Ali, Ruth and many others: He retired on his own terms, on top of the world, his skills still intact. He was always one step ahead of everything, the inevitable decline included. His final act was making the game-winning shot to win another world title. He knew an exit line when he saw it.
As he contemplated retirement minutes after making that shot, Jordan said, "Hopefully, I've put enough memories out there for everybody to at least have some thoughts about what Michael Jordan did . . . and put some comparisons up there for kids to follow and compare themselves and reach."
That's what the epics do.