I Have Nothing Left To Prove

SCOTTIE PIPPEN, THE CHICAGO Bulls' all-star forward, heard the rumor as he reached Comiskey Park for the White Sox' opening playoff game. He rushed to a phone and located Michael Jordan at the ballpark in the private skybox where Jerry Reinsdorf, the Bulls and Sox owner, held court. But Pippen, who hadn't exchanged much more than "How're ya doin'" with Jordan since the basketball season ended, couldn't bring himself to pop the question. After a few awkward moments, Jordan, as he had always done, took charge. Scottie, he said, "I'm hanging it up tomorrow."

And the next morning Jordan, 30 years old and at the pinnacle of his career, did just that, telling the world that the thrill--if only for him--was gone. "I've always stressed that when I lose the sense of motivation and the sense to prove something as a basketball player, it's time to leave," he said. Jordan's retirement was a surprise, coming just months after he led the Bulls to a historic third straight championship and just two days before the team opened training camp. But Jordan had often flirted with the notion privately and publicly. And given the anguish over his father's recent murder, his decision wasn't quite shocking. "He's living the American dream," said Reinsdorf, "reaching a point in life where you don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

If there remains any doubt that basketball has become, as the National Basketball Association loves to proclaim, "America's game," Jordan's exit may have settled that question. It consigned baseball's postseason playoffs, replete with its own big-name stars like Rickey Henderson and Bo Jackson, to the nether reaches of the sports page-back with pro hockey's opening night. It also marked the end of an era during which basketball's holy trinity, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird and Jordan, raised the league to its current heights. Jordan, the greatest player ever to put short pants on one leg at a time, was the last of the three to retire--the only one who called it quits willingly, in good health and without apparent regrets.

It was less than a month ago, at a Michael Jordan Foundation dinner in Chicago, that Reinsdorf got a good idea of what was coming. Jordan, who was heading for California on vacation, told his boss that nine seasons had been enough. He had all but made up his mind to quit. Reinsdorf asked Jordan to reconsider while on vacation. On Sunday, Oct. 3, the Bulls owner flew to Washington 0 meet with Jordan and his agent David Falk at Falk's Bethesda, Md., home. Jordan had arrived early casually attired in jeans and a golf shirt, and settled in the family room to watch and talk football with Falk and his other agent, Curtis Polk. After Reinsdorf arrived, they ordered out for pasta, pizza and salad.

It was only after much conversation about the White Sox and the upcoming playoffs that Falk turned off the big-screen TV and the four men turned to the question of Jordan's future. "It was Michael and Jerry eyeball to eyeball," says Polk. But Reinsdorf found himself supporting Jordan's decision. "Maybe I could have talked him out of it," he says with a shrug. "I didn't want to try." Reinsdorf did ask Jordan if there was anyone who might change his mind. "Coach Jackson," Jordan replied. "He might be able to challenge me with new goals."

Good wishes: