He Should Just Make a Decision

Little by little, I have been following the summertime adventures of Michael Jordan, super-hooper.

I originally assumed that the basketball season ended on that night at the Fabulous Forum when the Lakers lost the NBA championship to the Fabulous Jordan and his band of merry men.

The Jordan season, however, lasts all year long.

Right up front, I am compelled to mention this: It isn’t Michael’s fault, but if I have to hear one more word about this guy’s golf game, I am going to scream.

Michael Jordan likes golf. End of story. Anybody who seriously thinks that Jordan is going to play golf professionally when his basketball career is over doesn’t have all his sand in his trap.

Now then, this Gatorade thing.

Much has been made about how much Jordan has made. Last report I heard, he stuffed the pockets of his red trunks with the baby-bull emblem on the side with something like $18 million.

But evidently, in order to choose up sides with the Gatorade gang, Jordan had to jilt his old pals over at Coca-Cola, the refreshment with which he so often refreshed his famous tongue.

The question I have is this: Why can’t a guy endorse both products?

I mean, I can understand why a guy who advertises Wheaties might not simultaneously represent Cheerios. Or why a guy who pitches Nikes might not support L.A. Gear.

(Frankly, I can’t picture Jordan advertising L.A. anything.)

But Gatorade instead of Coke? Like this is a choice ?

I don’t know about you, but when I am in Chicago eating one of those pizzas as thick as Carlton Fisk’s mitt, very often I grab for a cold Coca-Cola. Or when I am in California lunching on a healthy salad made with mashed yeast, as so many of us do out here, an icy Diet Coke washes it down just fine.

But I gotta tell ya, I almost never order Gatorade with a meal.

On the other hand, when someone totally buffed and in 100% perfect physical condition--such as myself and most other sportswriters--runs a marathon or plays five sets of tennis or goes over to Arnold’s place to pump iron, the last thing we’re looking for is a gassy carbonated cola. What we want is some of that gator juice.

So, why was it necessary for Michael Jordan to pick one company over the other? It’s like saying you can subscribe to only one thing--this newspaper or National Lampoon.

Anyhow, apparently Michael has had many difficult decisions to make this summer. He probably has a number of personal advisers, attorneys, assistants and accomplished sycophants who can say, “Yes, Mike,” or “Anything you say, Mike,” with the best of ‘em.

But about this Olympic thing:

As you might know, our United States Olympic squad, terrified at the thought of not being able to beat Yugoslavia, will be represented at Barcelona next summer by our greatest professional basketball players--among them Magic Johnson, who missed his chance in 1980 to go to Moscow.

Magic’s buddy, Michael, understands what a treat it can be to compete in the Olympics. He already has, in Los Angeles, where he won a gold medal, played for Bobby Knight and lived to tell about it.

However, Isiah Thomas, another of Johnson’s friends who once played for Knight, wouldn’t mind playing in the Olympics himself. He, too, missed his shot at Moscow.

Well, first off, Jordan said he had no interest in the Olympics. Thanks, he said, but no thanks. He already has been involved in one, and besides, the basketball season for the Chicago Bulls now lasts about two months longer than it did before Jordan joined the team. Michael needs to save himself for, if Coca-Cola will pardon the expression, the real thing.

For some reason, though, Jordan has been feeling pressure to reconsider. He makes it sound as if he declines to play, there are Americans who would think him, uh, un-American.

This is, if Chicago’s basketball team will pardon the expression, total bull.

Michael may stay, play, go, no, whatever. Nobody minds if you pass, Air man. Stay home next summer. Work on your putts.

Last I heard, though, Jordan wouldn’t mind playing in the Olympics as long as Isiah Thomas doesn’t . These two have never been buddy-buddy, but the war escalated during last season’s NBA playoffs. Now they get along like a cobra and a mongoose.

I wouldn’t mind seeing Jordan in the Olympics. By himself, he could beat the country of Jordan. But if Michael and Isiah both go, golly, I sure hope they get separate rooms in the dorm.

Good luck, Michael. In Barcelona, be sure to try one of those rum-and-Gatorade drinks.