It had been 12 years since I was face to face with Michael Jordan. It had been 12 years since he threatened to punch me.
As I was walking out of my early voting place 20 minutes ago, I had to do a double take. Was the tall black man standing in a sea of short white women who looked exactly like Michael Jordan, really Michael Jordan? Yes! It was! I did the polite thing, and tried my best not to stare, but it was hard. I did my double take, and even a triple take, as I convinced myself to leave the man alone. I went outside and sat in my car, with my cell phone in my hand, contemplating taking a picture or something, but I view voting as something private and solemn. I also sometimes pity people as famous as Michael Jordan, who can't go out in public without being harassed. So I decided to just drive away, and leave him alone.
I've lived in the same town as MJ for 20 years or so, and this was only the second time I've ever seen him in person. (Excluding those fortunate times I was able to go see him play live.) I doubt he spends much time here. If I were him, or as rich as he is, I wouldn't be spending much time here either.
In 1996 I was a senior in highschool. It was Halloween night, and my friends and I were driving to a party. We happened to pass by MJ's house, which is on a popular road, but set way back off the street. As we passed by we noticed a huge line of cars coming out of his driveway.
One of the girls in the car remembered that the local newspaper reported he would be accepting trick-or-treaters. We all obviously wanted to go, but the line looked waaaaaaaaay to long, and we had a party to go to, so we just went about our business.
However, on the way home, as we again passed by his driveway, we noticed the gate was still open, and there was no line of cars, so we drove on up.
As we headed down the driveway, we reached a little security hut, still quite a distance from the actual house. There was not a single other car/trick-or-treater there.
And there was MJ, flanked on either side by rather large body guards. We got out of the car, and approached them. He could not have been any nicer. We had the pleasure of talking to him for 3-4 minutes. I personally don't think I was able to mutter a single word. I had grown up in the Chicago area during MJ's prime. He was my hero. And here I was, speechless, standing less then 2 feet away from him.
The only other male with us, Danny, was able to mutter something about the New York Knicks, but he was pretty much shocked into silence as well. The two girls with us were absolutely fearless, at least compared to us, and struck up a few brief conversations about his children, and his brand new patten leather shoes.
After a few minutes of MJ and the girls blabbing, and Danny and I standing motionless with our mouths hanging open, another car came down the driveway, and MJ said his goodbyes. I was directly to his right as he picked up a brown paper bag full of King Size Snickers. I was the first person he held the bag in front of. So I stuck my hand in the bag, and as I was pulling it out, he said, he being Michael Freaking Jordan, "Now only take one, or I'll punch you.".
I looked up from the bag to his face, and for a split second he had the look of a man who was dead serious. Then that classic MJ smiled crossed his face, as big as his face itself. The body guards chuckled a bit. I could only imagine what the look on my face was.
So we all got our King Size Snickers, headed back to the car, and tried to gather our composure on the way back to my friend Danny's house. When we walked in his house, his mother asked, "What'd you guys end up doing tonight?"
Well, being seniors in high school, we couldn't really answer that question to one of our mothers, so Danny replied, "Brad almost got punched by Michael Jordan."
At that moment, I realized what had happened, and how it would affect the rest of my life. I would get to spend the rest of my life telling a story which would begin, "Michael Jordan once threatened to punch me.".
I don't tell the story everyday, but anyone who has spent alot of time with me has heard it. It gives me great pride, and has entertained friends and strangers for 12 years now.
I'm sorry if this isn't a political diary. I figured you kossacks could use a quick bit of entertainment in-between watching clips of people calling you Anti-American. So, don't forget to vote. If you're here in the Illinois 10th, vote for Dan Seals. He seems like a really nice guy. And Mark Kirk is a warmonger and a liar.