Just Do It

Day 14, March 15 2010

Be like Mike. So said the famous 1992 Gatorade ad in which the smiling Bulls guard inspires little kids to achieve the same greatness he did. The funniest part of the ad is the last three seconds, when the screen fades to black and the signature phrase appears in white text on a black background. Clearly, some lazy video editor forgot that the final cut of the ad was due the next day and slapped it together as quickly as possible. I'm reminded of a classic Simpsons joke in which the Navy employs three recruiting tactics:

Lt. Smash: There are three ways to get people to join. Subliminal, liminal, and superliminal.

Lisa: Superliminal?

Lt. Smash: I'll show you. [shouts out window] Hey you! Join the Navy!

Carl and Lenny shrug and choose to enlist thanks to the superluminal efforts of Lieutenant LT Smash. Maybe I'm not as impressionable as they are, but I'm pretty close. Jordan's legendary competitiveness – and the aura of invincibility which validated him – made every kid who grew up from 1984 to 2000 want to Be Like Mike.

When I was growing up, my cousins used to whoop my ass at everything from Madden '95 to schoolwork to Madden '96. Granted, we had a limited universe, but it still sucked. If I was reading picture books, they were reading novels; when I could add, they could multiply. Jordan was the dominant cultural figure in our lives, and every time I wasn't good enough compared to my cousins made me feel pretty lame, pretty Unlike Mike.

I wanted to run ten miles today and I couldn't get past six. I hadn't eaten in several hours, but so what? Jordan had the flu! Game 5, 1997! I thought of every story I've read in which words like "pathological" and "ruthless" were used to describe Jordan's competitive streak, and how hard I used to try to emulate him when I was younger. I wonder if the mythologized version of "Michael Jordan" I've admired for so long is even real. But, I've realized that I'm also the same person who believes that an 89.5 is just as good as a 98 if they both count as As. I don't think Jordan – or, at least, "Jordan" - would agree.