This is the end of the first quarter, during the Bulls’ first finals in 1991. MJ makes mistakes, gives the ball over, gets blocked. Chicago is nervous. The Lakers will win that game on the road.
But right there in the numbers and the beautiful baskets and defense, you know the Bulls are getting that championship. After losing to the Pistons for years and after sweeping them, they’re not in the finals to laugh and have a good time.
MJ is the GOAT because perfection: six finals, six rings thank you very much, you scrubs. That’s just so pure and immaculate, how dare you compare.
But the biggest thing to me that I never hear here in the US: MJ brought basketball to planet earth. You have to understand, there are millions of teams and sports out there. Most sports fans knew Magic, Bird from their performances. As a kid James Worthy was my hero (unknown in France). But in September 1991, everyone was talking about that bald dude that flies and shit. Fucking everyone across the planet.
MJ is the perfect combination of beautiful basketball, stats, beautiful body, stats, leadership, stats and an addiction to winning and dope sportswear. He is.
The next GOAT needs to win seven times without losing once, to look handsome and bring basketball to Mars. Good luck with all that.