Why I Hated Michael Jordan. Revisiting My Drum Major Instinct In The Mid 90's

An instinct for attention, a desire to be the subject of admiration, to be out in front.  The idea of the Drum Major Instinct was first brought to me by a sermon I saw posted from Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. a few years ago.  In that sermon, Dr. King talks about the psychology of this instinct that drives human nature for attention.

When Michael Jordan was drafted, I was just six months old.  So I didn't really have any preconceived notion of who he was before I came into consciousness, it just seemed like he had always existed.

I didn't understand sports at an early age.  I mean, to be fair, I didn't understand much of anything at age six.  When Jordan won his first Championship, I was still trying understand the basic rules of recess during kindergarten.(which I often violated).

What I did see and hear from everyone around me was that Michael Jordan was not only the greatest athlete of today, but that he was the greatest we had ever seen.  He was the closest thing to a living Superman that we had ever seen.  Not only that, he was a self made star who came from humble beginnings. Someone who had failed earlier and made himself better. 

I have never seen a man revered as a near deity the way I saw people look at Jordan in the 90's.

He achieved a career path that would become unparalleled, and in many ways represent an idealized American Dream.  He was the son of two educated Black Americans during the middle of the Civil Rights movement of the 60's and 70's.  His story of failure to make his high school varsity team only to make him train even harder and get better is used by coaches the world over.

He became an unbeatable champion.  Able to out run and out jump everyone else. In many way, Michael Jordan was the American Dream that nearly all of America wanted for its children.  It certainly felt like I was supposed to love him.

But I didn't.

I felt like I was being told I had to like this player.  That I had to love him.  To not love him was almost an American sin.

I couldn't accept that.

I knew Michael Jordan was an incredible and great player.  That wasn't the issue for me.  The issue was the near cult-like following of love he had attained that I simply could not understand.  The fact that it seemed like everyone around me revered someone or something else.

My "Drum Major Instinct" was kicking in, in my own way.  I wanted to stand out from the crowd of people who revered Jordan. 

At first, it wasn't that I had any allusions that I could be better than Jordan.  That seemed preposterous even for my small minded, yet growing ego.  What did seem realistic was that there would be other great players worth rooting for.  That there would be other players who would challenge for the throne of greatest players.

When Michael Jordan retired in '93, I was 9.  Still far too young to really grasp what was going on in the world, I truly enjoyed every aspect of athletics.  I could pour all my energy into just pretending I was somebody else.  Pretending to be a superstar.

Enter Shawn Kemp.

Now, Shawn Kemp is no longer thought of as a Hall Of Fame type player.  His career derailed by poor decisions by the front office, his agent/manager, and Kemp himself.  But by the mid 90's he was an ascending star.  When the Sonics lost to the Bulls in 6 games, it was Kemp who was the second best player on the floor.  He looked like a player that might become an MVP candidate.  While being guarded by a Hall Of Fame defender in Dennis Rodman, he averaged 23 points, 10 rebounds, 2 blocks, and a steal per game.

My friends and I would lower baskets artificially so we could dunk and I would always want to be Kemp.  To me, he was becoming the icon that others saw Jordan as.

The Sonics lose in the Finals, they trade Kemp to Cleveland, and things are never quite the same.

This is when I switch from being a fan of the Sonics, who had traded away my favorite player, to being a Lakers fan, who had just aquired Shaquille O'Neal, and drafted a kid out of Philadelphia, PA named Kobe Bryant.

Now remember what I had been saying about the drum major instinct?  That desire to be out in front?  To be number one at something or root for the best thing?  To attach yourself to something else that might be better than someone or something else?

Well now it's burning inside of me, because it feels like my team, almost my identity had lost a little bit of its shine.  Jordan, a superhero to many, but a villain to me, had literally just vanquished one of my heroes and favorite players.

I needed a new one.



Now, I realize my resentment towards Jordan at this time is completely and totally made up in my mind.  It had nothing to do with him personally, or even about his actual game.  I understood that what made Jordan so good was that he had an incredible blend of skills to go with an incredible blend of athleticism.  Even though I may have thought I hated Jordan, it would be intellectually dishonest of me if I didn't think his game wasn't the most effective for playing basketball.

It was my misguided use of this drum major instinct, a perversion of wanting to be first, wanting to be right, and a jealousy of the attention given to others let led me to the disliking of someone else for completely arbitrary reasons.


One might think that Dr. King would go on to attack this Drum Major Instinct.  This idea that one wanted someone to go out with the intention of separating themselves to be the best is a bad thing.  This desire to stand out in front is to be shunned and to be put away.

But that is not the lesson that Dr. King preaches. 

Instead he asks that we should want to be great.  We should want to be better than those that came before.  We should encourage this instinct.

But we should make sure that the instinct is used correctly.

Be first in kindness.

Be first in moral excellence

Be first, be best at being a good human being.

That same instinct that made me resent Jordan, also made me get up for conditioning drills at 4.AM.  The same one that drove me to studying through late nights to make my grades for college.  The same one that drove me to work my way up to become a manager.

The same one driving me now to be the best person I can be to everyone I meet.

That same drive is the one that I now see in Michal Jordan. 

He wasn't perfect, he knew that, he understood that.  But he was driven to be the absolute best he could be at something that he loved. 

And once you see that.  When you see his passion and love for the game is actually identical to your own, it's an incredibly powerful feeling.