Here's what I think about this, that and the other thing.
The Third Coming of Michael. When Michael Jordan took an executiveposition with the Washington Wizards a little more than a year ago, Iwrote that his Competitive Attention Disorder would soon get the bestof him, and he'd tire of the job and look for a new challenge. Jordanis so competitive and such a bad loser that it's his style to quitwhen he's bored or beaten, whether we're talking basketball,baseball, restaurants or friendly wagers.
Granted, Michael has managed to shake a few rotten apples from thenearly dead tree that is the Washington roster-but his team is adreadful 19-61. The odds that Jordan will be content to graduallybuild a playoff contender for years through complicated salary-capmaneuvers, free agent signings, trades and draft picks are about thesame as the chances the authorities are going to question him aboutthose Cuban cigars he's always toting around. Right.
By that same measure, why would Jordan want to play forWashington? Even if he's part of a lineup that includes CharlesBarkley, Meadowlark Lemon, a 10-foot Chinese dude and the Son ofFlubber, Washington wouldn't be a serious contender. Jordan has toomuch pride to lace up his sneakers just so he can grunt and sweatthrough long nights of losing to the 76ers and Lakers while the likesof Allen Iverson and Kobe Bryant light him up like the Vegas Strip.
So what about reuniting with Phil Jackson and playing about 25minutes a game for the Lakers? Seems like a sure path to "reclaiming"the two NBA championship rings Jordan surely would own had he nottaken a break for two years in the mid-1990s. That's a possibility-but I think if Jordan does return, it's more likely he'll stay in theslower, more physical Eastern Conference and hook up with theMilwaukee Bucks, a young team on the rise that's coached by NorthCarolina alum George Karl. Jordan could lead the Bucks to a title andregularly torment Central Division opponents like, say, the ChicagoBulls.
Either that or MJ will call a press conference to announce thathe's 99.9999999 percent sure he's staying retired.
Barroom disputes that turn ugly. When I was young and stupid andbrimming with beer muscles and martial arts training, if a fightbroke out in a bar my instincts would be to fly into the middle of it-to break it up, sure, but also because it's what guys often do whenthere's a fight. They dive in.
Now that I'm older, slower and only occasionally stupid, if afight breaks out over there, then I'm going to stay right here.Because any bare-knuckled brawl has a very real potential to escalateinto something with the potential for serious injury or death.
Consider the recent troubles at JB's Pub in Elgin and at theFirebelly Lounge in Wilmington, N.C., last week.
In Elgin, Luther "Luke" Casteel allegedly raises hell, gets kickedout, goes home and loads up, returns and starts firing. Two arekilled, 21 injured.
In Wilmington, actor Vince Vaughn reportedly starts hitting on thegirlfriend of a local, and a fight breaks out. Before the dust-up isquelled, actor Steve Buscemi is stabbed in the throat, head and arm.
It should be stressed that nobody in JB's Pub picked a fight withCasteel or provoked him; on the contrary, reports indicate that hewas the one harassing patrons. What else could the barkeeps do buttoss him out?
As for the Firebelly Lounge incident, maybe Vaughn was being aHollywood jerk or maybe the locals overreacted, or maybe both-butsurely Buscemi did nothing to warrant a serious attempt on his life.
The point is you never know if push will lead to shove-or tosomeone drawing a knife or going home and getting his guns. There'sno such thing as a harmless fight any more. If trouble starts in thebar, restaurant, party, whatever, your best bet is to vacate thepremises.
Guns don't shoot and knives don't stab-but inebriated people do.
Cuff Daddy. Couldn't resist eavesdropping on the conversation thattook place on the beach Saturday afternoon, just a few feet from mylounge chair. I looked up from a semi-slumber and there was SeanCombs, a k a Puff Daddy, a k a P. Diddy, chatting amiably with agroup that included an otherworldly creature who's probably asupermodel or a neurosurgeon, I'm not sure which.
She was smoking. (Puffing if you will.) Combs pledged that hecould get her to quit "in six months, starting tonight."
An hour later, Combs would be arrested after making an illegallane change on his scooter while driving with a suspended license.What an outlaw!
One imagines the supermodel and/or neurosurgeon cooling her heelsat the Delano bar-glancing at her watch, tapping her nailsimpatiently, muttering about being stood up for the first time in herlife-and then lighting. With no P. Diddy to save the day, no doubtshe still has that nasty smoking habit.
OK. No more P. Diddy references this year-unless he signs with theWashington Wizards, and I'm 99.9 percent sure that's not going tohappen.
E-mail: rroeper@suntimes.com
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