When the Game Was Ours - Larry Bird [139]
"Is that your dinner?" Magic asked.
"You bet it is. I love this stuff," Jackson answered.
"Well, then, pass some over," Magic said. "I love it too!"
Over their fast-food meal, Jackson asked Magic to appear in his new video "Remember the Time." Eddie Murphy had agreed to play the role of a pharaoh, and Magic would be cast as his servant.
The video was cutting-edge for those times, and more than nine minutes long. Magic wore a funky Egyptian midriff and headband and banged a gong. He loved every minute of it, even though his friends teased him mercilessly for his bizarre attire. The video premiered in March 1992 and drew rave reviews.
While Magic enjoyed the opportunity to try new endeavors, he wasn't kidding himself or anyone close to him. He wanted to play basketball again, and with his health stabilized, he couldn't come up with a reason why he shouldn't.
He called Commissioner David Stern at his New York office.
"David," Magic said, "I want to make a comeback."
Stern was not particularly surprised by the phone call. He'd seen Magic at various NBA functions and could sense his restlessness. He did not object to Johnson's return but was keenly aware of how difficult it would be to sell a permanent comeback as opposed to a one-time All- Star exhibition.
In the wake of Magic's diagnosis, the NBA had taken specific steps to protect its players. Every league trainer was required to wear plastic gloves when treating an athlete. If a player was cut on the court, he had to come out until the wound was covered with a bandage.
Warm memories of the All-Star Game and his appearance in Barcelona with the Olympic team had convinced Magic that he was no different than anybody else, in spite of his medical condition. Yet once word circulated that Magic was coming back for the long haul, the goodwill toward him began to vanish. One by one, a small number of his NBA peers began publicly questioning whether someone who was HIV-positive should be playing in the league. Utah forward Karl Malone, Magic's Dream Team teammate, told the New York Times on November 1, 1992, that players were nervous about playing against Magic, particularly if they had any open cuts on their bodies.
"Just because he came back doesn't mean nothing to me," Malone told the paper. "I'm no fan, no cheerleader. It may be good for basketball, but you have to look far beyond that. You have a lot of young men who have a long life ahead of them. The Dream Team was a concept everyone loved. But now we're back to reality."
In the same article, Suns president Jerry Colangelo, who had been so supportive of Magic remaining a part of the Olympic squad, also conceded that players were concerned about the potential exchange of blood through cuts, even though the Players Association had repeatedly reassured them that the chances of that happening were practically nil.
"Risk is risk," Colangelo told the Times. "I have a son-in-law who does surgery every day, and he wears gloves, goggles, masks, and lives in mortal fear."
Magic was blindsided by the comments. Malone had said nothing in Barcelona; why was it an issue now? Johnson was particularly stung that Malone and Colangelo did not share their reservations with him before going public.
Their comments reignited the debate on whether Magic belonged in the NBA. It was a major blow to Johnson, who mistakenly believed that his peers would warmly welcome him back.
"I was really ticked off at Malone," Byron Scott said. "He had just played with Earvin in the Olympics. He knew the deal. He knew we had the best team with Earvin, and if Earv didn't play, Utah would have a better shot of getting to the Finals.
"I couldn't believe Karl would stab him in the back like that. I've never forgiven him."
Colangelo said Malone's fears were shared by many of his peers at that time, whether they articulated them or not. It was, he conceded, the result of a lack of knowledge about AIDS and HIV.
"It's pretty easy to look back now," said Colangelo, "but at the time, players were frightened. When they heard