Michael Jordan was the greatest basketball player. Ever. He was – and still is – the greatest competitor in sports, in trash talking, in business, in just about whatever he does. That’s just how Michael is wired. By any measure, the Naismith Basketball Hall of Fame Class of 2009 was extraordinary. It was headlined by Michael, but included David Robinson, John Stockton, Vivian Stringer and Jerry Sloan. They all gave beautifully sentimental induction speeches, setting a warm and appreciative tone. Then it was Michael’s turn.

Perhaps Michael should have stayed in character for his induction speech and followed the P.R. playbook that brought us, “Republicans buy sneakers, too.” Thankfully, we got the real Michael; the one who can be brashly honest, the one who carries on grudges ranging from good natured (Dean Smith keeping him off the Sports Illustrated cover) to nasty (Jerry Krause). [Even I have a tough time saying nice things about Crumbs.) His speech has become basketball’s own Rorschach test, of sorts. The reaction reminds me of what happened when Stephen Colbert performed at the 2006 White House correspondents’ dinner. The brunt of many of Colbert’s jokes was President George W. Bush who was on the dais. Many who were there, including old-time media and politicians, cringed at Colbert’s performance and immediately panned his routine. Then the video found its way to the Internet, and, upon further review, Stephen Colbert killed. Comedy and appropriateness are certainly in the eye of the beholder. As much as I like to make convincing arguments, it’s not worth trying to sway opinion here. You either liked Michael’s speech or found it petty and inappropriate.

"That was just Mike being Mike. To know him is 2 love him, 2 hate him is to be a hater. I didn't take it as a diss at all." —Bryon Russell To me, Michael is the most interesting athlete alive. Here’s the greatest basketball player ever, yet he has always wants more. Needs more. M.J. serves as fascinating study to those interested in understanding performance and competitiveness. How much of Michael’s basketball abilities was genetics? And how much was hard work, discipline and competitiveness? He also received outstanding coaching throughout his journey. Much of what I know about sports and the athletes who play the game is the result of watching the Chicago Bulls and Bears firsthand. Admittedly, Michael Jordan has been a huge influence in my life since he arrived in Chicago when I was in high school. I never viewed M.J. as a perfect human being (who is?), but I always thought he was the closest thing to a perfect competitor. Growing up in a Chicago suburb, I played ball at the same health club where the Bulls practiced. During the offseason, several Chicago Bears players played pick-up games with us – and I have scars and broken bones to prove it. I even did some workouts with Bulls players. On many occasions, I was fortunate to observe Bulls practices. They were mesmerizing mostly because of Michael Jordan’s legendary practice habits. It was one thing to see his magic in front of sellout crowds of 17,317 at the old Chicago Stadium. But it was more impressive to witness Michael practice just as hard against second- and third-string teammates as he played against the NBA’s best. When it comes to observing elite athletes, you realize they are a rare breed. They are off-the-chart competitors who do whatever is necessary to win. They are supremely confident. And they talk trash. In Michael’s case, he hasn’t stopped trash talking. In sports, these elite athletes have a near-perfect outlet for their competitive fires. In other areas of life, including business, investing and even relationships, the same traits that work so well in sports, can have the opposite effect. Michael Jordan’s late father, James Jordan, summed it up best when he was asked, “Does your son have a gambling problem?” He replied, “(Michael) doesn’t have a gambling problem … What he does have is a competition problem. He was born with that. And if he didn’t have a competition problem, you guys wouldn’t be writing about him.” Maybe it’s true that skills that are taught in sports are transferable to success in other areas. Or maybe it’s not as clear cut as advertised. Michael’s reputation as the most ruthlessly competitive NBA player was well earned. But his passion for the game – not money – drove him to succeed. Michael Wilbon, a Jordan insider, liked M.J.’s Hall of Fame speech, especially the good-natured ribbing. Wrote Wilbon, “Without that specific personality trait – the need to win at everything all the time, forever – he’s somebody else, probably not in the Hall of Fame, probably accepting of Leroy Smith and Bryon Russell.” Playing college or NBA basketball is awesome. But the process of chasing championships is often completely insane. It might look good on TV, but every championship team is the result of hard work, sacrifice, pain and even turmoil. Losing teams can go through a similar experience, but with far less joy. Michael’s ultracompetitive streak created a mechanism to use these innocent and perhaps even misread slights as motivation. An NCAA championship, two Olympic gold medals and six NBA championships should sooth his competitive soul, but Michael is seemingly never satisfied. And if he was, he might have been just another basketball player. Michael Jordan is probably an unrealistic standard to measure athletes. No one will ever again win like Mike. But today, many more are competing like Mike.

--Marc Isenberg

Terry Holland, director of athletics at East Carolina University, is a longtime friend of the Money Players Blog. He responded to my earlier post, "The wins have left the building."

From Terry Holland, director of athletics, East Carolina University

You are on target. In this particular case, Memphis is only guilty of doing what everyone else does - accept student-athletes who have been cleared by the NCAA's own "Clearinghouse". Memphis just happens to be doing so for more talented players than most schools. The "Clearinghouse" was established with the very best of intentions but it has been obvious for some time that it is not working in the very situations it was designed to address - the less than 10% of recruits annually who have borderline grades and/or test scores. So we now have this cumbersome and expensive process that is unnecessary for 90% of the student-athletes recruited by NCAA institutions and ineffective for the other 10%. The 2009-2010 school year will be my 50th year on the "front lines" of intercollegiate athletics as a scholarship basketball player at Davidson (4 years); as a coach of nationally ranked teams at Davidson (10 years) and the University of Virginia (16 years); and in athletic administration at Davidson (5 years), the University of Virginia (9 years) and East Carolina University (6 years). Many of the 10% on the borderline have received a lot advice and help from many entities (high school or prep school coaches and teachers, AAU coaches, SAT prep courses, etc.) in order to reach the Clearinghouse minimums. It then becomes impossible for individual institutions to ascertain the level of help (possibly including having someone else take their tests) the student-athlete may have received to enhance the student's chances of becoming certified by the Clearinghouse. The membership has handed the NCAA an impossible task in today's world - to certify students who may be presenting enhanced information as well as to certify the burgeoning private high schools created strictly for basketball players. One such high school is named after a large booster of a particular institution who recruits young men from all over the world to play for his "high school." There are no classrooms or teachers at this high school but that does not matter. The players simply attend another private high school in the city while playing games all over the country. If the NCAA and the Clearing House can not stop this kind of blatant abuse, how can they pretend to have the ability to certify students and/or high schools who are not so obvious? There is truly only one standard that counts - Will the student-athlete do the class work necessary to be successful at the particular institution where the student-athlete is enrolled? And the only way to measure this standard is by requiring the student-athlete to present a full year of grades before being allowed to represent the institution in competition. This would return the determination of eligibility at each institution to the faculty members of that institution who teach the students and grade their coursework. Adopting a "year of academic residency" requirement before being allowed to represent the institution in competition is the most effective method to certify students for competition. And, an added blessing would be that those students who do not want to be in college would attermpt to become professionals after high school. The NCAA should provide a safety net that would allow these individuals to reclaim their NCAA eligibility if they return to college within two years of trying the professional ranks. Will we continue to sit on our collective hands for another decade before we act to curb blatant abuse or will we simply continue to try to punish a few institutions who are only doing what everyone else is doing - accepting the NCAA's own certification process? There are always plenty of excuses to do nothing. Devra Lee Davis in her book, When Smoke Ran Like Water, references a Jewish Midrash (story-telling) traditional parable: A group of workers is asked to something quite difficult and complicated. They protest, "the day is short"; "the work is too hard"; "the project is too big"; "we do not have the right tools"; "and anyway we will never finish this job!" Their teacher replies "it is not for you to finish the task. But.....you must begin." We (the NCAA) must stop making excuses and begin the task.

As someone who actively advocates on behalf of athletes, I am confounded by those who make the case that one-and-done is universally better than none and never. I have never suggested that college basketball turn its back on elite players who want spend their “gap year” playing at the NCAA level. But let’s all just be honest about what is taking place: It’s the (basketball) economy, stupid.

The one-and-done phenomenon brings to light many of the problems facing not just college basketball, but basketball development in general. So what is the appropriate solution? Any discussion of potential solutions should include reforming amateurism and a return to freshman ineligibility.

There are some in college athletics who make the strained argument that the NBA’s age restriction actually serves as a social program to educate a larger pool of male basketball players, many of whom are African-American. That absent the NBA age rule, hundreds of hoop dreamers might forsake preparing for college entirely. Huh? I am not against education. Far from it. If you don’t believe me, read my book, Money Players, which I wrote to educate athletes about business and life. I am against one-and-done. Big difference. There are many young people who would be better served to enter the “real world” right out of high school, then work (literally) to figure out what they want to do career-wise. Then, if they need to return to school later, they will be far more motivated to do so. The average age of college graduates is close to 26, which suggests that a significant percentage of students follow a circuitous path to a college education. Most observers view the embracing of one-and-done as nothing more than basketball commerce, not some high-minded plan to educate the masses. For example, NBA commissioner David Stern deftly pointed out: “This is not about the NCAA. This is not an enforcement of some social program. This is a business decision by the NBA. We like to see our players in competition after high school.” Exactly. The NBA cares about how well players compete on the court, not in the classroom. Rather than fighting reality, perhaps college sports would be better off embracing it. Here’s a sampling of opinion on one-and-done and amateurism, starting with a provocative on-air exchange between John Thompson and Gary Williams. Thompson: “Why is that if a kid tries out for a pro team and does not make it, even if he was paid something for doing that, why can’t he come back to college based on the redefining of what an amateur is now and how inconsistent it is among all sports?” Williams: “I’ll give you an honest answer. I think the NCAA is really out of touch with the kids today. I’m 17, 18 years old. I think I am good enough to play. I sign with an agent, I may get $5,000 from that agent. I go try out, get cut. Why can’t I come back to school and be able to play? I’ve never understood this. We’re supposed to be in this for the benefit of the student athlete. ... Things change. These kids think they can play. So let them try. If they can’t, they’ll be back ... (and) more kids would get their degrees because they’ll realize they may never make it in professional basketball.” Several years ago, the NCAA membership contemplated reforming amateurism along the lines suggested by Thompson and Williams. Unfortunately, this effort failed. Why not provide a safety net for those who mistakenly overrate their ability and turn pro too early? The message should be to stay in school, but if you leave for a reasonably short period (say one year) and want to come to college ready to be real student-athlete, we welcome you. Terry Holland, East Carolina athletic director and one the truly good guys in college athletics, once told me, “Forcing young men to go to college simply does not work for anyone’s long-term best interest. If we truly do not want pros in college with all the attendant agents and NCAA investigations, then we have to make it easier for them to go pro, not harder.” Even college players recognize the problem. Washington State’s Klay Thompson (son of Mychal Thompson, No. 1 pick in the 1978 NBA draft) told Sports Illustrated: “I’d just say, go pro whenever you want, because it makes no sense to force kids to go to just one year of college. I don’t get that. If a kid is already planning on being one-and-done, then he’s going to school for the wrong reasons. He’s going to go for one semester, and then he’s gone.” Dick Vitale also makes a lot of sense on the issue, writing: “(One-and-done) is unfair to an athlete who has to go to school for one year when he has no desire to be in the classroom. College is supposed to be for those who want an education, for those who want to be there. It is time to end this mockery. If these kids want to make themselves available for the NBA, then so be it. If the NBA sees fit to draft them, so be it.” No arguments here. One-and-done has become a distraction to those who care about the institution of higher education and to those who actually want to be student-athletes in every sense of that made-up phase. So what should happen? There is no complete solution. The most reasonable solution would start with making freshman basketball players ineligible. All those who desire to play D-I basketball would have to get it done in the college classroom as a condition of their eligibility. Legitimate students would go straight to the classroom; all others could go straight to the pros – just not to the NBA. Best of all, college basketball would finally have a legitimate litmus test to determine eligibility. Freshman ineligibility would eliminate initial-eligibility standards and put the responsibility in the hands of college-admission departments, where it belongs anyway. In terms of development, players would have an entire year to really work on their games and develop their fundamentals, which would serve them well as they try to compete in the global basketball world. Yes, a few ultra-talented players would opt for Europe or the NBDL, but so what? Even if five Brandon Jennings bypass college every year, college basketball would not suffer financially, in case that matters.

Ryan Nece is an NFL player everyone should know, but yet he still labors in relative obscurity. He was a walk-on at UCLA, who became a valuable member of a highly-ranked UCLA team (back when Pete Carroll was best known as an out-of-work NFL coach.) Undrafted out of college, Ryan signed as a free agent with the Tampa Bay Buccaneers. He is now entering his 8th NFL season. 

Of great interest, Ryan wrote the foreword to my book, Money Players. When it came out, we received plenty of kudos. The only drawback, more than few friends pointed out, was that I did not have a "big name" professional athlete writing the book's foreword. Many said, "Ryan who?" I would get slightly defensive, but for very good reason. Ryan Nece is one of the most extraordinary people I know. He's not only a close friend and confidant, but someone who has profoundly impacted my views on sports, business and life. 

Look no further than Sports Illustrated, which featured Ryan Nece in its Point After column. SI's Phil Taylor writes:

"When a pro athlete is carrying that kind of wad [$4,000], there are a few obvious guesses as to where the evening will lead—to a Vegas blackjack table, perhaps, or a nightclub VIP room with bubbly and bimbos. But the 30-year-old Nece had other plans. He stuffed 70 envelopes with $55 each (55 was his jersey number with Detroit last season) and distributed them among the surprised friends and associates he had invited to the restaurant. The money wasn't the gift; the instructions that accompanied it were. Use this cash to help someone, he told them, and encourage those you help to do something kind in turn. Make the gifts multiply. Watch goodness grow."

We'd all benefit from less talk, more action. Thanks, Ryan, for showing that even relatively small amounts of money can speak volumes.

--Marc Isenberg