NBA FINALS : COMMENTARY : No Matter What, He’s Otherworldly

Someday we’ll tell our grandchildren we saw Michael Jordan.

We saw him lose $1 million betting whose luggage came off the carousel first.

We remember when he took that vow of silence and even refused to talk when President Bill Clinton begged him.

We saw Game 4 of the ’93 NBA finals when he took off from the foul line--the other foul line--on a dunk, made all 48 of his shots and scored 112 points to bail the Bulls out again.

We’ll swear every word of it’s true, too.

It’s getting hard to separate fact from fiction in the life of this Jordan person. This is the Babe Ruth of our lifetime, a Bambino we can call our very own, in all his glory and controversy.

Remember the stories we read about the Babe?

Calling his shot?

Getting that “stomachache?”

Getting a raise that put his pay above President Herbert Hoover’s and observing it was all right, he’d had a better year?

Now we’ve got a walking, talking legend to call our own, the one, the only Mike: sinking that shot as a North Carolina freshman to win the ’82 NCAA title; leading the Bulls past Magic Johnson and the Lakers in ’91 (remember the pivotal Game 3 when he brought the ball up andhit that 15-footer to send it into overtime?); stiffing President George Bush; leading the Bulls past the Trail Blazers in ‘92; boycotting the media in the betting controversy of ’93 that included publication of a book alleging he’d lost $600,000 on a round of golf.

Play the Bulls and know fear.

Sunday, for want of anything better, Sun Coach Paul Westphal had put his tyke point guard, 6-foot-1 Kevin Johnson, on the 6-6 Jordan.

Call it confusion, call it mercy, call it the moon in the seventh house and Jupiter aligned with Mars but Jordan settled for 44 points in a Bulls’ loss.

This was deemed as a bad night for Mike and bad news for KJ, whose memory encompassed Jordan’s bad start in Games 1, 2 and 3 against the Knicks, followed by his 54-point Game 4.

Westphal, the trickster, sent not Johnson, not Dan Majerle, not anyone you’d ever guess, out to guard Jordan on Wednesday. It was Richard Dumas, one of the weakest defenders on a poor-defending team. In case anyone had missed the point, Jordan hit his first shot, a 12-footer, after a routine cut across the middle. Dumas trailed so far behind, he was barely in the 312 area code.

“Richard did as good a job as anybody,” Westphal said later. “Nobody can guard the guy.”

Nevertheless, perhaps fearing a scoreboard meltdown, Westphal put KJ back on the case.

Jordan started in on Johnson’s piecemeal destruction. Sunday he hadn’t bothered to drive until the fourth quarter. In Wednesday’s second quarter, he drove nine times in a row.

He had a modest 11 points in the first quarter.

He had an immodest 22 more in the second.

He had another 10 in the third quarter when his legs seemed to wobble and his teammates’ throats seemed to constrict.

Unlike Sunday’s game, he carried this one through to the end. Jordan scored 12 points in the fourth quarter including the game-breaking three-point play with 13 seconds to play, a running 14-footer plus the free throw, with the Bulls clinging to a 106-104 lead.

“Definitely believable, that’s for sure,” said Johnson, barely fazed by the experience.

“I can’t say it’s unbelievable because he’s capable of doing great things.”

We’ll tell our grandchildren, yes, there was an NBA before Mike, except it was smaller.

After Mike, you had to stay up till 9 at night on the East Coast to see a tipoff of a game in the finals, just like the World Series. After four games, the ’93 finals, an interesting if relatively one-sided series that the Bulls led, 3-1, was on track to be the NBA’s highest-rated ever.

Was anyone still wondering why David Stern wasn’t inclined to leap into disciplinary action against Jordan? With ratings like these, the commissioner might forgive grand theft auto.

Even if it was Stern’s car.

It may be years before we realize this guy’s impact, but in the meantime, enjoy, unless you’re Paul Westphal.

“Michael was not bad tonight,” Westphal said, blissed-out as usual. “We’re going to see if he can do it again.

“Probably he can.”

Bet on that.