|
On Friday, December 9th, 2005, at approximately 9 PM CST, the Chicago Bulls plopped the cherry on top of their six-championship-fudge sundae: '33' was retired - hoisted into the rafters, to sit in its rightful place between '23' and 'Coach'. Those three banners (along with one bearing the name of GM Jerry Krause and six with the words "World Champions") will forever hang from the roof of the House that Jordan Built, immortalizing some of the greatest teams in the history of the NBA.
The ceremony was classy and star-studded, if somewhat brief. After a video tribute showing some of Scottie's best moments, a few friends checked in by Jumbotron: NBA commissioner David Stern, Pippen teammate and current Bulls GM John Paxson, former coach Doug Collins, and Rockets teammate Charles Barkley. Then Phil and Michael each took the mic and said a few words - the Zen master talked about a player who practiced hard and played harder, Jordan of a teammate he loved "like a brother."
Jerry Reinsdorf - the owner of the Bulls and World Series Champion White Sox - was conspicuous in his absence when a team official acting in his stead made the official presentation. Scottie was given a commemorative collage, three miniature championship trophies (to go with three he was given at retirement), and frames with a '33' jersey and a replica of his banner. Soon the real thing had been raised to the roof, the cheering had subsided, and it was Scottie's turn on the microphone.
His speech was short, like those of the other contributors, and primarily a 'thank you' to a long list of people, starting with Jordan - "to be alongside him means so much to me" - and ending with the fans - "you made me understand what it really means to love Chicago, you've given me everything I could ever ask forÉ Thank you guys, and I'll never forget you. I love you."
As a Chicagoland native, I couldn't help but say, "I love you too, Pip," to my TV screen, and I would be lying if I told you no tears were shed during the highlight reel. Yet there is a question of how the Chicago sports fan (and the basketball history books, for that matter) will remember Scottie Pippen. He was a superstar, a hall-of-fame lock, and at times a model teammate and a true leader. At other times he was immature, petty, and selfish.
Hearing Paxson say Scottie was "an unselfish star, and an unselfish teammate," it's hard to believe he was talking about the same guy that refused to play with 1.8 seconds left in Game 3 of the 1994 Eastern Conference Finals, when the coach drew up a play for someone else. Toni Kukoc (in attendance Friday to support his friend and former teammate) hit the game winning shot that day, and perhaps this is what allows Jackson to tell us that "for the coaches, [Scottie] was the best," for had the Bulls lost that game, surely it would have been on 33's shoulders.
Those who question Pippen's heart and toughness will point to episodes like a bout of migraine headaches in the 1990 playoffs, or his passive fourth quarter in the Portland Trailblazers' Game 7 choke job in 2000. I am not one to judge sports figures for their behavior off the court, but Pippen's arrest on gun charges in 1994 does nothing to help his image.
What worries me more than how Pippen will be regarded as a person (ask Ty Cobb how much history cares about your character) is how he will be remembered as a player. Perhaps it's a misguided fear, but I'm scared some may never see him as anything more than Michael Jordan's little helper. "Best Sidekick Ever," they'll call him - and he was that, certainly. Some think anyone could be great playing with the greatest.
As a teenager living in Chicago during the glory days, I watched Scottie live a number of times, and maybe that's why I know better than to listen to these critics. He was a superstar in his own right, and for a time was arguably the best player in the league not named Jordan.
Before you dismiss me as a homer, think back to '90-91, the year the Bulls finally got over the hump. Pippen was second on the team in scoring (17.8 per game), rebounding (7.3) and steals (2.35) and first in assists (6.2) and blocks (yes, blocks; with 1.13). Impressive versatility and great numbers, especially considering his scoring and rebounding averages both increased in the playoffs (to 21.6 and 8.9).
True to form, though, his most important contribution is overlooked by the box score. In Game 2 of the NBA Finals - after losing Game 1 to the Showtime Lakers and Jordan to foul trouble in the early-going - Pippen played suffocating defense against Magic Johnson, allowing the Bulls to storm back and win their first championship in five games. By the way, Pip dropped a 32 and 13 double-double in the Game 5 clincher.
Then there's the '93-94 season, when 'Air Jordan' was 'Air in the Outfield'. Scottie was a top-ten scorer that year, pouring in 22 a game, to go with 8.7 rebounds, 5.6 assists and a whopping 2.93 steals. Hakeem Olajuwon won MVP, but it just as easily could have been Pippen. If not for a truly abysmal foul call on the part of Hugh Hollins, the Jordan-less Bulls might well have played in the NBA Finals.
By the time he really got out of MJ's shadow (in '98-99) Pippen's knees were already beginning to break down. Playing for over-talented, underachieving squads in Houston and Portland, he was never able to get back to the promised land. Still, members of those teams will rave about his leadership and professionalism. It could be argued that the Blazers never recovered from the loss of that positive influence, looking at the constant turmoil since his departure.
Though he never reached the pinnacle without Jordan, Pippen also never failed to guide his teams to the playoffs, and often deep into them. Say what you will about his inability to win on his own, but how many times did MJ make the playoffs in Washington? How many playoff series did he win before Pippen's arrival in Chicago? None, and zero. Scottie's only season with a losing team was his last, and his 23 game stint with the 2003-04 Bulls (a Paxson signing) amounted to the basketball equivalent of the Cowboys signing Emmitt Smith on the day of his retirement.
Scottie's career averages don't jump off the page, but he spent most of his 17 NBA seasons in thankless roles. For years Scottie sacrificed his own statistics for the good of the team, whether in a supporting role for Chicago or as floor general and veteran influence for Portland. As a team leader, he was at first the perfect complement to the hard-nosed Jordan - as Phil said, "Michael was givin' 'em hell, and Scottie was pattin' 'em on the back" - and later served as teacher, keeping troubled youngsters in line.
As the Bulls honored his career, the man who Jordan called a "brother in arms" accepted his gifts and gratitudes with grace, but what will stick with me more than anything (more than any of his huge dunks, more than his smothering defense in 208 playoff games, more than his 1.8 seconds of shame) was the grace with which he moved around the court.
When Scottie was at his best, he seemed to glide about the court like an air hockey puck, never quite touching the floor. Scottie did the dirty work (playing defense that should have earned him a Defensive Player of the Year award and did make him a fixture on the All-Defensive First Team from '92-'99) and he could get ugly (don't forget those fights with Rodman, his eventual teammate) but his game was pretty.
So as the book is closed on one of the greatest players in basketball history, it is my sincere hope that history remembers Scottie as just that - a great player. Nevermind his personal failures, forget mistakes and bad judgment, let those 1.8 seconds lie; think instead of his MVP-caliber season in '93-'94, remember the way he seemed to glide up and over Patrick Ewing for that famous 1994 slam. I like to picture the scene in Utah when, after a superhuman performance, a flu-ridden Jordan collapsed into Pippen's arms - as Mike put it, "when we went into battle I knew someone was watching my back."
For all the heartfelt, emotional "thank you's" and high praises that were issued on Friday, the line of the night came in joke form. In typical Sir Charles fashion, the Round Mound of Sound told Scottie that he thinks "Michael Jordan should be kissing the ground you walk on." I'm in agreement, and as Scottie Pippen left the United Center floor to a standing ovation for the last time, I was only one of many who saw a true basketball hero depart as he deserved: honored as one of the greatest players ever to play the game.
|
Back to Matt's Home Page.
|