Fade to Black

Michael Jordan played his last NBA game yesterday. Yeah, I know you're probably experiencing some deja vú, but this time it feels like it's for real. Really.
He's been an icon I actually had the chance to watch develop in my lifetime. I started my diet of NBA basketball in the late 80s with the whole Lakers vs Celtics (the uber-retro computer basketball game) and started getting really into it when Isaiah Thomas and his bad-boy Detroit Pistons won the Championships. Michael Jordan was this scrawny inexperienced superstar-wannabe back then.
Look where we've come now, baby. An athelete's career is relatively short, and its passing is like an accelerated life-cyle. There is still Michael after NBA basketball, but not many of us know that. The fact that we will no longer watch him execute his patented turnaround fadeaway on some poor soul reminds us of how time has passed and how old we've all become. His "passing" tells us that we've been too busy watching rather than doing. We've lived vicariously through him – his greatness, his gambling problems, his stint in minor league baseball.
Thanks Mike, for the memories. We'll work on our own moves. Promise.

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