Dream Team Read online

  Copyright © 2012 by Jack McCallum

  All rights reserved.

  Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.

  BALLANTINE and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

  McCallum, Jack

  Dream team : how Michael, Magic, Larry, Charles, and the greatest team of all time conquered the world and changed the game of basketball forever / Jack McCallum.

  p. cm.

  eISBN: 978-0-345-52050-0

  1. Basketball teams—United States—History. 2. Basketball Players—United States—Biography. 3. Olympic Games (25th : 1992 : Barcelona, Spain)—History. 4. Basketball—United States—History. I. Title.

  GV885.49.O43M35 2012

  796.323—dc23 2012006253

  www.ballantinebooks.com

  Cover design: Faceout Studio

  Cover photograph:

  © John W. McDonough/Sports Illustrated/Getty Images

  v3.1

  CONTENTS

  Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Epigraph

  THUMBNAIL SKETCHES

  INTRODUCTION

  PROLOGUE: The Dream Team Gets a Name

  1 BEFORE THE DREAM

  CHAPTER 1: The Inspector of Meat—Pros in the Olympics? It Was His Idea, and Don’t Let Anyone Tell You Different

  CHAPTER 2: The Chosen One—Sneaker Porn Is Born

  CHAPTER 3: The Commissioner and the Inspector of Meat—The NBA Sticks a Tentative Toe into International Waters

  CHAPTER 4: The Legend—“I’m the Three-Point King”

  CHAPTER 5: The Outcast—Isiah Throws It Away … Then Throws It All Away

  CHAPTER 6: The Magic Man—With a Junior Skyhook, He Claims His Place on Top

  CHAPTER 7: The Shooter—Mullin Puts Down the Bottle and Puts Up the Numbers

  CHAPTER 8: The Christian Soldier—The Admiral Takes an Olympic Fall

  CHAPTER 9: The Chosen One—And So Does a Fork Become a Holy Relic

  CHAPTER 10: The Old Guard—Here Today … Gone Real Soon

  CHAPTER 11: The Shadow Man—For the Kid from Nowheresville, Arkansas, Playing Alongside Michael Could Be a Real Headache

  INTERLUDE, 2011: The Shadow Man—“Michael Got Away with a Lot of Things”

  CHAPTER 12: The Coach—A Man of Both Style and Substance

  CHAPTER 13: The Jester—Sir Charles Wants to Be an Olympian … He Just Doesn’t Always Act Like One

  CHAPTER 14: The Committee and the Dream Team—Okay, Superstars, Prepare for Deification.… Uh, Isiah? Not So Fast

  CHAPTER 15: The Chosen One—Michael Seems to Have It All … But “All” Comes with a Burden

  CHAPTER 16: The Spokane Kid and the Outcast—Isiah Sends an Olympic Message … and the Mailman Follows with a Special Delivery

  CHAPTER 17: The Dukie—Wanted: College All-American … Must Perform Scut Duty on Summer Vacation

  CHAPTER 18: The Glide—Clyde’s on the Team, and Jordan Shrugs

  INTERLUDE, 2011: The Glide—“Jordan Was Damn Good … But Was He Better Than Me?”

  2 THE DREAM UNFOLDS

  CHAPTER 19: The Writer—And So It Begins … at a Cattle Call in San Diego

  CHAPTER 20: The Magic Man—For a Man Who’s Dying, He Sure Looks Pretty Alive

  INTERLUDE, 2011: The Magic Man—“It’s My Mind-Set That’s Kept Me Alive”

  CHAPTER 21: The Coach—Chuck Has a Message for His Assistants: Make Sure to Ignore

  CHAPTER 22: The One-Day Wonders—These Were the Best Days of His Life.… Surely Grant Hill’s Wife Understands

  CHAPTER 23: The Writer—The Action Begins in Portland and Everyone Wants a Piece

  CHAPTER 24: The Legend—Larry Shoots and Scores … and at Night Lies Awake in Pain

  CHAPTER 25: The Kid from Spokane—Daly Had a Pistons Phone Number in His Hand … and It Wasn’t Isiah’s

  INTERLUDE, 2011: The Kid from Spokane—“You’re Not Writing That Down, Are You?”

  CHAPTER 26: The Chosen One—So Many Balls to Sign … and Jordan Almost Reaches His Breaking Point

  CHAPTER 27: The Writer, the Jester, and the Christian Soldier—Monsieur Barkley Will Indeed Take a Hit on 19

  INTERLUDE, 2011: The Christian Soldier—And What Shall a Man Do with All His Gifts?

  CHAPTER 28: The Greatest Game That Nobody Ever Saw—“They Just Moved Chicago Stadium to Monte Carlo. That’s All They Did”

  CHAPTER 29: The Writer—“There’s Helicopters Up There—This Shit Is Serious!”

  CHAPTER 30: The Jester and the Angolan—“I Did Not Know That He Would Make Violence with Me”

  CHAPTER 31: The Kukoc Game—“They Were Like Mad Dogs on Toni”

  CHAPTER 32: The Coolest Room in the World—“Charles, We’re Sorry, but This Is a Ring Table.…”

  INTERLUDE, 2011: The Chosen One—“I Know My Father Was Up There Watching Me”

  CHAPTER 33: The Tie-Dyed Darlings—Sabonis Wins Bronze, Then Sleeps It Off

  CHAPTER 34: The Gold, the Flag, and the Chosen One—Some Wear Old Glory … Though Not in the Service of Patriotism

  CHAPTER 35: The Aftermath—Michael/Magic/Larry … and Then There Were None

  CHAPTER 36: The Impact—“We Were Like Actors in a Play”

  EPILOGUE: The Legend—“I Would’ve Liked to Have Touched Gold When I Was a Kid”

  Dedication

  Acknowledgments

  Other Books by This Author

  About the Author

  “The older I get, the less interested I am in what’s new, and the more interested I am in what endures.”

  —JAMES HYNES

  “To live is to fly

  Low and high,

  So shake the dust off of your wings

  And the sleep out of your eyes.”

  —TOWNES VAN ZANDT

  “I don’t know nuthin’ ’bout Angola. But

  Angola’s in trouble.”

  —CHARLES BARKLEY

  1992 DREAM TEAM

  THUMBNAIL SKETCHES

  BARKLEY, Charles, 6′4″ forward; TNT commentator whose fame has grown exponentially since retirement; boldly continues to play celebrity golf despite universally lampooned swing; leading scorer for Dream Team; known in Barcelona for rambling along Las Ramblas and elbowing an Angolan.

  BIRD, Larry, 6′9″ forward; at this writing still general manager of the Indiana Pacers but longing for golden years; limited by aching back in Barcelona that led to post-Olympics retirement; struck up unlikely Dream Team friendship with Patrick Ewing; engaged Chris Mullin in legendary H-O-R-S-E shootout.

  DREXLER, Clyde, 6′7″ guard; businessman/golfer/Dancing with the Stars veteran; wants to be NBA head coach; happy to have been Dream Teamer but unhappy he was added late; remembered for wearing two left shoes to practice and trying to get away with it; does not believe Michael Jordan was better than he was.

  EWING, Patrick, 7′0″ center; assistant coach with Orlando Magic and perturbed he’s been unable to get interview for head coaching job; much more popular with Dreamer teammates than with press; “Harry” half of Harry and Larry.

  JOHNSON, Earvin, 6′9″ guard; guiding force behind Magic Johnson Enterprises, having made good on long-ago vow to become big-time player in business world; sometimes irritated Dreamers with it’s-my-team attitude but changed millions of attitudes worldwide about HIV and AIDS; at this writing, scheduled to be immortalized on Broadway, along with Bird, in play about their seminal importance to NBA.

  JORDAN, Michael, 6′6″ guard; chairman of the Charlotte Bobcats; trying to make it right after bad experience running Washington Wizards; serenad
ed aggravated Magic with “Be Like Mike” solo after legendary intrasquad scrimmage win; acknowledged by all Dreamers as team’s alpha male and greatest of all-time … with Magic holding out just a little and Drexler holding out a lot.

  LAETTNER, Christian, 6′11″ forward; his BD Ventures, co-run with ex-Duke teammate Brian Davis, has had cash flow problems; at this writing wants to get into coaching; seems serious about changing spoiled-brat image; earned way onto Dream Team by being immortal college player.

  MALONE, Karl, 6′9″ forward; serious big-game hunter who wants back into NBA in some capacity; work ethic was inspiration to several other members of Dream Team; Jordan-Magic woof-fests at practice got under his skin.

  MULLIN, Chris, 6′6″ guard/forward; successful as ESPN commentator but might get another shot at front-office job after failure in Golden State; Barcelona sharp-shooting (.619 overall, .538 on three-pointers) affirmed selection to skeptics and Dream nod reaffirmed benefits of sobriety to him.

  PIPPEN, Scottie, 6′8″ guard/forward; has had serious money problems but, with commentating gig and reality-show wife, never far from public eye; hinted LeBron James was better than Jordan, then took it back … kind of; showed he belonged on Dream Team with world-class versatility.

  ROBINSON, David, 7′1″ center; runs private school in San Antonio called Carver Academy; faith-based activities govern his life; mostly outsider to other members of Dream Team but universally respected; teamed with a Marsalis for rooftop duet in Barcelona.

  STOCKTON, John, 6′1″ guard; full-time chauffeur for his family in his hometown, Spokane, and couldn’t be happier; tutored star women’s guard Courtney Vandersloot at alma mater Gonzaga; broken leg limited Dream Team play.

  DALY, Chuck, coach; died of cancer in 2009; vowed never to take a time-out in Barcelona and didn’t; everybody loved him, everybody misses him.

  INTRODUCTION

  “You have a tape?” Michael Jordan asks. “Of that game?”

  “I do,” I say.

  “Man, everybody asks me about that game,” he says. “It was the most fun I ever had on a basketball court.”

  It is reflective of the enduring legend of the Dream Team, arguably the most dominant squad ever assembled in any sport, that we are referring not to a real game but to an intrasquad scrimmage that the Dreamers played in Monte Carlo before the 1992 Olympic Games. The United States engaged in fourteen games in that summer two decades gone—six in a pre-Olympic qualifying tournament and eight as they breezed to the gold medal in Barcelona—and the closest any opponent came was a fine Croatia team, which lost by 32 points in the gold medal final. The common matrices of statistical comparison, you see, are simply not relevant in the case of the Dream Team, whose members could be evaluated only when they played one another.

  A video of that game is the holy grail of basketball, and the account of it is here, in Chapter 28.

  A perfect storm hit Barcelona in the summer of the Dream Team. Everything came together. The team members were almost exclusively NBA veterans at or near the apex of their individual fame. The world, having been offered only bite-sized nuggets of NBA games, was waiting for them, since Barcelona was the first Olympics in which professional basketball players were allowed to compete. They were a star-spangled export for a country that still held a position of primacy around the world.

  It couldn’t have been scripted any better, and when the Dreamers finally released all that star power into a collective effort, the show was better than everyone thought it would be … and everyone had thought it would be pretty damn good. They were Johnny Cash at Folsom Prison, the Allman Brothers at Fillmore East, Santana at Woodstock. “If it would’ve happened today,” says Larry Bird, “it would’ve been one of those reality shows.”

  The names (Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, Charles Barkley) remain familiar to fans two decades later, their cultural-relevancy quotient still quite high. It’s not just that an engaging Dream Teamer who’s now an A-list TV star partially inspired Danger Mouse and Cee Lo Green to christen their hip-hop duo Gnarls Barkley. Or that Magic Johnson (Red Hot Chili Peppers and Kanye West), Scottie Pippen (Jay-Z), Karl Malone (the Transplants), and Michael Jordan (impossible to count the references) have been subjects in song. Consider this: the name of John Stockton, a buttoned-down, no-nonsense point guard, is on a track in a 2011 release by Brooklyn rapper Nemo Achida, and the popular NBA 2K12 video game features Jordan, Magic, and Bird on the box cover, not contemporary players such as LeBron James, Dirk Nowitzki, and Derrick Rose.

  The Dream Teamers are never far from the news, even the crime news. Not long ago a convict tattooed Jordan’s Jumpman logo onto his forehead, and an accused rapist in Arkansas, in an interview after he was captured, described his run from the cops this way: “I was like Michael Jordan, man. Gone!” An armed robber asked that his sentence be increased from thirty years to thirty-three years to honor Larry Bird’s number.

  Yet the written record of that team and that time is not particularly large. The Dream Team, like the dinosaurs, walked the earth in the pre-social-media age. Beyond newspaper stories, there is no detailed daily log of their basketball activities (“Bird shot around today but his back is sore”) and no enduring exclamations of chance meetings around Barcelona (“OMG, jst met ChazBark at bar & he KISSED me on cheek; hez not rlly fat LOL”). There is much of the story to be told in the fresh light of history.

  There is little doubt that the Dream Team, like that red-haired lass you met years ago at a pub in Dublin, looks better in the soft-focus blur of nostalgia. “This is now the Dream Team of blessed memories,” says NBA commissioner David Stern. “They were the guy with the piccolo and the scrappy band of revolutionaries marching off to war. They forget Charles elbowing the Angolan, Michael and the others covering up their logo, the cries of ‘Why are we sending these teams? You’re just trying to humiliate the other nations.’ Over the years it’s become beatified.”

  None of that is forgotten in these pages, Mr. Stern. The Dream Team was indeed forged amid conflicts athletic and bureaucratic and touched by tragedy and controversy when it returned home after an Olympics that, yes, was layered in a gauzy romanticism. All that is part of the story. The book is in fact a panoptic survey of that entire generation, in large part because the members of the Dream Team represented the central characters in the compelling drama of pro basketball from the mid-1980s to the early 1990s, a golden age for the NBA that ended when the fairy-tale world of the Dream Team itself ended in August 1992.

  The narrative unfolds in roughly (emphasis on roughly) chronological fashion. It struck me as crucial to give definition to the players before they were Dream Teamers—Michael Jordan as the young hero of the 1984 Olympics, Scottie Pippen as the neophyte struggling to play alongside his infinitely more famous Chicago Bulls teammate, Charles Barkley as the unbridled wild child, and, of course, the 1980s rivalry of Magic Johnson and Larry Bird.

  Then, too, the selection process—how the team came together—is in some ways more riveting than the games themselves. It was political theater, a kind of convention without the pom-poms, a process in which backstabbing and rivalries current and ancient all played a part.

  But it was also important to provide glimpses of the players as they are now, some in their hometowns (Phoenix, Houston, San Antonio, Spokane), some in their places of business (Charlotte and Orlando). These are defined as “interludes.” So there are stops and starts to the narrative, which emerges as more like a Magic yo-yo dribble than a Barkley straight-ahead, bowl-over-any-obstacle dash to the hoop.

  Like all of us, in later life they have found failure, some as husbands or fathers, others as coaches, general managers, or businessmen. But from a basketball perspective they approached perfection. They are history writ large, the greatest team of all time by such a wide margin, says Dallas Mavericks general manager Donnie Nelson, who coached against them in the Olympics, “that I can’t even think of who’s in second place.”

  The best b
arometer of what this team meant to history is limned by the words of one of its most prominent members, a man who won five NBA championships, three MVP awards, one NCAA title, and an untold number of popularity contests.

  “For me, the Dream Team is number one of anything I’ve done in basketball,” says Magic Johnson, “because there will never be another team like it. There can’t be.”

  PROLOGUE

  THE DREAM TEAM GETS A NAME

  Barcelona, 1992

  I knew it was a bad idea from the beginning. I swear I did. But David Dupree, my friend and colleague from USA Today, kept pushing it.

  “We’ve covered the Dream Team from the beginning,” said David. “We should get our picture taken with them. It’s no big deal. It’ll be something to look back on.”

  Taking a photo with famous athletes seemed like the last thing David would suggest, but such was the overheated temperature of the times, when the phrase “Dream Team” was on the lips of everyone in the world, not just the sports world; when helicopters dotted the bleached Spanish sky like fireflies to protect the millionaire players; when snipers sat on the roof of their hotel in Barcelona to take down potential assassins wanting to enter the history books; when adoring fans congregated around the clock just to catch a fleeting glimpse of the twelve Americans who were in the process of storming to the gold medal and rewriting basketball history.

  “I’ll run it by Magic,” said Karl Malone when we asked the Mailman about the photo. Karl, David, and I were having dinner in Barcelona. The other diners were staring at us. Staring at Malone, actually. I had gotten a restaurant recommendation from a friend—this was before the days of go-on-the-Internet-and-check-out-Zagat—and it was a bad choice. They brought out quail eggs for an appetizer.