When the Game Was Ours - Larry Bird [122]
When he walked into the West locker room on All-Star Sunday, it was loaded with familiar faces: Clyde Drexler, Chris Mullin, Karl Malone, David Robinson, Hakeem Olajuwon, Otis Thorpe, Jeff Hornacek, Dikembe Mutombo, Dan Majerle, Hardaway, and Worthy. Yet something had changed. He was a visitor, not a regular. And, he feared, he was also a bit of a curiosity. After a decade of playing the role of the most dynamic personality in the room, suddenly Magic was the hesitant one.
The salutations when he entered the room were cordial, but awkward. Nobody jumped up to embrace him, and only a couple of players offered a handshake. He was a guest at his own party.
"Everybody was a little hands-off," Magic conceded. "You could sense it."
"The tension was unmistakable," David Robinson recalled. "It was a scary time. Players had gone behind Magic's back to get him out of the All-Star Game. They were afraid. They didn't know."
Robinson, sensing Magic's discomfort, made a point to walk up to him and offer his hand.
"I'm glad you're here," said the Admiral.
"I'm glad I'm here too," Johnson answered.
Before the game started, the two teams lined up opposite one another at center court. Isiah Thomas broke ranks with the East and crossed over to give Magic a hug. Soon most of the East squad followed suit, yet the player who truly eased the tension was Pistons forward Dennis Rodman, who vowed before the game to be aggressive with Johnson on the court.
Since Magic hadn't played all season, the expectation was that he would be treated delicately. Yet Johnson wanted no part of being a charity case. He worked out religiously in the weeks leading up to the game, telling Lon Rosen, "If they think I'm showing up just to make a couple of passes, they're wrong."
Rodman eliminated the awkwardness on his very first trip down the floor, when he elbowed Magic in the back, then bodied up on him and bumped him in the post.
"C'mon now," Rodman said to Magic. "Show me what you got."
Magic wheeled and rolled in a hook shot.
"How did that look?" Johnson said, after the shot dropped through.
"Let's go," Rodman said. "Is that all you have?"
Johnson ran and passed and sweated and tumbled into people just like everyone else. After a few minutes, the players seemed to relax.
"I made a nice pass, and guys were saying, 'Oh, I remember him. He's still Magic,'" Johnson said. "It calmed everyone down. After that, it was just about basketball.
"That game helped change the perception of HIV all over the world. People watching it said, 'It's okay. He can do this.'"
As the game clock ran down, Isiah pushed the ball up the floor with Magic guarding him. Thomas urged Magic to come closer. He dribbled the ball in and out of his legs, behind his back, stutter-stepping back and forth in a staccato rhythm, challenging his old friend. Magic, in turn, motioned with his hand.
"C'mon, bring it," Magic said.
Thomas whipped the ball through his legs one more time. As the shot clock dwindled down to its final seconds, Thomas hoisted a long jumper over Magic's outstretched arms. It never reached the rim.
The capacity crowd hooted appreciatively, anticipating a theatrical finish. So now it was Michael Jordan with the ball and Magic matching up opposite him. Jordan faked left, burst right to the basket, then pulled up for a shot over Magic. It too was short.
Finally, it was Magic's turn for Showtime. He made a V cut, then a backdoor cut, and popped out to the three-point circle, all with Isiah in pursuit. Teammate Clyde Drexler lofted him the ball and Johnson launched a three-point bomb.
"I didn't have to look," Magic said. "I knew it was good."
Magic was mobbed by his teammates, just like the old days. Mullin came over for a double high-five, Drexler slapped him on the back, and East big man Kevin Willis approached