Scottie Pippen didn’t write this letter, but he might’ve had a lot of these thoughts.
Dear Michael Jordan,
I resent you. We won six championships together. Correction: We were on the same court, the same team, but we were never together. You thought you were above it all, and that the rest of us were your loyal sidekicks, court jesters.
Photo courtesy CNN
Yes, you got the most points, but you also put up the most shots. I’ll believe this to the bitter end: I was a better all-around player, not to mention better teammate.
And I did it with my tongue in my mouth. You think we won because you bullied us, as if you were riding a chariot, and we were your stallions. At least, that’s how you rationalize your weak behavior.
We won despite your tactics. I know this is hard to believe, Mike, but all of us wanted to win as much as you if not more. You won’t, so I’ll give myself some credit. I went from walking on to my college team to being a two-time Dream Teamer and a Hall of Famer.
No, Mike, you weren’t the only stud in the stable.
Fans ask, “How’s MJ?”
“Michael Jackson?” I laugh.
“No, Jordan,” they say.
How the hell should I know how you are?! No, we’ve never been friends, and we’re not going to start now, especially after you insulted me with that stupid, fake-ass documentary. Shame on you for including Toni’s last-second playoff shot, which should’ve been my shot.
Do you know how many years I put up with Phil’s meditation and candles nonsense for him to give away my shot?
Tell me, Mike: How’d that sequence advance the story? You just wanted to make me look like a fool. And maybe I was for putting up with your diva act for so long and not getting paid my due.
Why do you have the need to put me down to put yourself up? How much glory is enough? I want to dunk on you right now. I’m out.
Never Ever Your Friend,
Scottie
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Jon Hart is the author of Unfortunately, I was available.
