My Opinion
Jordan flies through dreams, soaring for renewed hoop glory

I can see it now. In my late thirties, reminiscing to my children about the year I really believed the Knicks would go all the way.

I'm sitting around the fireplace on a cold winter night, thinking back about the incredible 1994-95 NBA season.

I would say to my kids how the Orlando Magic was the young, dominating team in the East. Led by sophomore sensation Anfernee Hardaway, and the rapping, power-dunking movie star who -- in his free time -- is an ever-present shot blocking, rebounding force in the middle. You all know his name. Considered the best in the NBA by many: Shaquille O'Neal -- the Shaq.

I would talk about how the Knicks were close behind. After starting slow, MVP hopeful Patrick Ewing and inconsistent three-point threat John Starks were sure to come through at crunch time.

Then I would shift to the West, and talk about the most dominating teams. How the Spurs and Jazz battled for the first-place spot, while defending champion Houston struggled to be consistent.

The Admiral, David Robinson, and his counterpart, Dennis Rodman -- the red, fuchsia, green, blonde, white-headed, rebound deity -- provided a one-two punch, almost as powerful as the dynamic duo of John Stockton and Karl Malone.

Maybe the Suns were next in line. Charles Barkley said he was on a mission -- again. He once again claimed he was sent by God to lead Phoenix to a title. The unstoppable Sun offense might actually let Barkley retire with a ring not found in a cereal box.

Then it happened. As it seemed, everyone was ready to hand the Magic the championship ring and O'Neal the MVP honor.

It reverberated all over local papers and ESPN. The Great One, His Airness, the three-time MVP, owner of three championship rings and endorser of every major product, Michael Jordan, was returning to basketball.

"Was it true?" my kids would ask. They heard of the legend, but never got the chance to watch him play. They've seen him on posters, videos and stamps (yes, by the time I'm 30, Jordan will have his own stamp) -- but they always wondered what he was really like.

Yes, it was true. Jordan had come back to revive a mediocre Chicago Bulls organization that had flirted with a .500 record all year and was plagued with management-player controversy.

Jordan was coming back. And yes, they were scared -- Starks, Hardaway, Robinson and Malone. Barkley and the Shaq? No, they would never admit to it, but we know the truth.

Jordan came back to the Bulls just at playoff time (ironically). And what do ya know -- it was Bulls vs. Knicks for the fourth-straight year. Jordan was ready. He knew the Knicks' tenacious, defensive style, but was not fazed.

It was the style of defense Jordan had dissected in the past. It was the defense that limited Jordan to 30 points per game instead of 40. It was the same defense Jordan had broken down two consecutive years on his way to NBA titles. Jordan was not scared.

In the first game, Jordan picked up where he left off. He moved left, he shifted right. He faked Charles Smith out of his spinal cord and then threw down a dunk that made the Madison Square Garden crowd gasp.

He disproved the laws of gravity with death-defying dunks. He was just simply being Michael Jordan. He scored 40 points in the first half.

In the second, he continued to pound the Knicks, but from the outside. He hit six-consecutive treys. After the seventh, he jogged to half court and glanced at Marv Albert and Walt Frazier with his hands in the air, shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders as if he didn't know how it was happening.

The fans were not cheering or booing. They were silent and in awe. To cap off a 30-point Knick loss, Jordan took off from the foul line with five seconds left. He brought the ball up, stuck out the tongue, and . . .

My eyes open. I sit up and stare at my Ewing poster. I am sweaty and confused. It's 3 a.m. and I'm not 30-years old. I have no kids. And Jordan has not returned to the NBA yet. It was all just a dream . . . wasn't it?