Athletes who "got game" are a dime a dozen. Those who actually succeed in sports are those talented yet humble enough to take constructive criticism from themselves and others. They develop an attitude to constantly improve as a player. They learn from the valuable knowledge of those with more experience and patiently explore solutions to strengthen their weaknesses. No human being is perfect, but what makes the good athlete great is a constant and relentless physical and mental pursuit of fixing what is wrong with his or her game and ultimately close in on perfection. The realization of this goal could take place at any time for an athlete, but the great ones carry it throughout the rest of their playing lives. They also take it to the furthest extremes that could be reached.
Almost as quickly as he put on his red jersey, Michael Jordan was one of the best in the pro game. He could blow by everyone guarding him and dunk on the big guy assigned to protect the rim, almost at will; but after tiring of contributing to his highlight reels, the other NBA teams began to strictly focus their strategies on stopping him. These strategies were not always sportsman like, either. They began using double and triple teams to cage him in and then would physically rough him up with the big men as he soared inside. Their efforts were valiant, but unsuccessful, because he still had his way with helpless defensive units. Michael was still dominating, but he was having to work much harder and was taking a lot more physical abuse than before.
Still he was an immediate superstar; but instead of indulging in self-satisfaction from his instant superstar status, he focused on what his game lacked. He knew that though he was great, he was not the best just yet. Veterans with complete games, MVP awards, and championship rings, were the NBA's ambassadors like Earvin Johnson, Dr. J, and Larry Bird.
Jordan did not feel he was as strong as he could be, that his jumper was as much of a weapon as it could be, or that his defense was as tough as it could be. He constantly added weapons to his arsenal over thirteen season continuing through the off-seasons. He added fifteen to twenty pounds of muscle to handle the thugs he played against and would never be pushed around again. His upgraded body also allowed him to endure more physical punishment so that he could continue to draw hard contact and then sink his foul shots. He incorporated a more consistent and smooth fifteen to seventeen foot jumper that he felt he could drain at any time from any angle. He utilized his strength by posting up other guards and then spinning around them on the baseline to free him for a lay-up or a poster dunk; and the next time down he would post the same guy up, fake the spin to the bucket, then instead jump away both from the basket and the defensive player on his heels, to shoot a nearly unblockable shot. Of course, it seemed to always fall through. Watching a countless number of young bucks like Kobe Bryant and Steve Francis, you can see cheap replicas of this patented fade-away jumper. While they are sub par by the 23 standard, at least these kids are trying to add a great weapon to their arsenals and are attempting to capture part of the Greatest's game.
