When I was a young, impressionable child, I
collected some hockey cards like my classmates did, but I never cared about
them as anything but a collection. I didn’t play or watch hockey. I only had a
vested interest in Brett Hull, because we had the same first name and I knew he
was good.
Seriously, he had more goals in the 1990s than
anyone, haters.
Michael Jordan was unavoidable, even from
Swan River in a pre-Internet age. MJ was always a much bigger star to me than
Wayne Gretzky.
The Great One has always looked like he’s
begging for someone to take his lunch money. He was always my least favourite
of the Pro-Stars. He didn’t deserve
to be on the same cartoon as MJ.
I read Sports
Illustrated for Kids, and I was always on the lookout for new MJ stuff.
The only basketball jersey I ever bought was
a Washington Wizards Michael Jordan jersey.
MJ’s tongue-wag makes Gene Simmons sick to
his stomach with envy.
NBA players still wear Jordans.
MJ was so amazing that he got kids like me
to wear a Bulls cap fastened with long, coloured laces and one of those
springy-button doohickeys. I’m still struggling to prove that these existed,
but I had one and it was super badass.
Michael Jordan is the only athlete of my
childhood. Anyone else was a statistic.
