The Will to Win: Why Michael Jordan Is the Greatest
A Lesson from MJ on His 62nd Birthday
Many sports fans focus on Michael's extraordinary accomplishments: his six NBA championships; his perfect 6-0 record in the Finals, winning the MVP every time; his NBA-record ten scoring titles.
Others recognize his charismatic smile in commercials or wear his iconic sneakers.
But my favorite thing about Jordan wasn’t his accolades or his commercials.
It was his will to win.
Jordan hated to lose at anything, whether it was the NBA finals, a golf match, or flipping quarters against a wall with United Center security guards.
As my son Eric and I rewatched episodes from The Last Dance documentary this weekend, the series reminded me that Michael’s main motivation wasn’t money or fame. It was pushing himself and his Chicago Bulls teammates to excellence.
Forging a Warrior
Jordan arrived in Chicago from a championship culture at the University of North Carolina, where he played under the legendary Dean Smith and won a national title with a game-winning shot as a freshman.
Even more important, Michael grew up with parents who valued hard work and brothers who were ferocious competitors.
His mother, Deloris Jordan, once said, "We always tried to share with our kids, 'Don't wait for somebody to give you something. You're strong. You're intelligent. Go out and earn it, go work for it.’”
His family taught Jordan to always give his best and try to win.
And they hated to lose.
Culture Clash
On the other hand, the Chicago Bulls weren’t exactly a team of warriors.
In the season before Jordan arrived, they finished a lowly 27-55, known more for throwing wild parties than winning basketball games.
Michael knew he had to change the mindset of the organization quickly. He vowed to make the playoffs every year, to raise the Bulls to the elite standard of the Celtics and Lakers.
And he did exactly that.
Pushing the Limits
Jordan won Rookie of the Year and dragged the Bulls to the playoffs in his first season. But in year two, he suffered the first major setback of his career, breaking his left foot in just the third game of the season.
For someone who had never missed a game before, the injury devastated him.
Unable to play, a restless Jordan convinced the Bulls to let him return to college.
Before long, Michael was back in the gym. Then back to shooting. Then back to playing — one-on-one, then two-on-two, then full-court five-on-five. All in secret. The Bulls had no clue.
When he returned to Chicago to show his remarkable progress, Jordan pleaded with Bulls management to let him play and lead them back to the playoffs.
Owner Jerry Reinsdorf pushed back hard from a business perspective. Reinsdorf didn't want to take the estimated 10% risk of Jordan reinjuring his foot before fully healing, an injury that would have likely ended Michael’s career.
It wasn't a crazy thought - such a scenario would have cost Jordan and the Bulls franchise over a billion dollars if Jordan's promising career had ended so abruptly.
But Jordan wouldn’t let it go.
In mid-March, Michael eventually wore down an exhausted Reinsdorf to a compromise where Jordan could play - but he would be limited to seven minutes per half.
As Jordan willed the Bulls back into the playoff picture, he began to doubt the Bulls' commitment to winning when they wouldn't let him enter a key game with the Bulls behind and only seconds remaining. Michael wondered if the Bulls management wanted a lottery draft pick more than a playoff appearance.
Writer Mark Vancil captured the situation perfectly in The Last Dance: "The mistrust Michael had with management, specifically with Jerry Krause, was that Michael believed that they violated the most fundamental aspect of sport -- I would argue, the most fundamental aspect of the way Michael conducted his life. You do it at the highest level, and you do it to win all the time."
That relentless approach came with a cost.
Jordan didn’t just demand greatness from himself - he expected it from everyone around him. At times, that meant berating teammates in practice, pushing them to their limits, sometimes harshly. Not everyone could handle it.
But in Jordan’s mind, winning required nothing less.
Unleashing a Wild Dog
Despite all odds, the Bulls scraped into the playoffs with a 30-52 record.
Their reward? The top-seeded 67-15 Boston Celtics with five NBA Hall-of-Famers.
But Michael relished the challenge - "The Bulls took all the limitations off of me, and it was like unleashing a wild dog."
Jordan scored 49 points in a Game 1 loss on the road to the heavily favored Celtics.
His encore in Game 2? An NBA playoff record 63 points in a 135-131 Bulls loss, a double-overtime thriller on a nationally televised Sunday afternoon game at the Boston Garden.
Larry Bird - a man who never handed out praise lightly - watched in awe: “That wasn’t Michael Jordan out there. That was God disguised as Michael Jordan.”
The Celtics went on to sweep the Bulls, but Jordan had changed the culture.
The world saw what was coming.
Within a few years, Jordan and the Bulls would slay their dragon embodied by the Detroit Pistons and go onto become a dynasty.
A Weaker Mindset
Fast forward to today.
During the last week of December, I stumbled onto a college football bowl game while channel surfing.
Iowa State had just taken a 42-41 lead against Miami (FL) with 56 seconds left on the clock.
But as Miami’s offense took the field, I was stunned to see their star quarterback, Cam Ward, wasn’t in the game.
Why?
Because he had chosen to sit out the second half to avoid injury. NFL scouts projected him as a top draft pick in the upcoming draft, and he didn’t want to take any risks.
Ward had played great in the first half, throwing three TD passes to set a new college football record for career touchdowns. But instead of finishing what he started, he quit on his team. And his Hurricanes lost 42-41.
I was shocked, but I shouldn’t have been.
A quick search showed Miami was Ward’s third college team. He had job-hopped through the transfer portal like a Silicon Valley programmer chasing higher salaries.
Ward was more concerned about his career than winning the game for his team.
Some might argue that Ward made the smart business decision. The NFL is a cutthroat league, and an injury could cost him millions. But in Jordan’s world, that kind of thinking didn’t exist. You play to win - always.
I’m not an NFL general manager, but I’ve conducted a couple of thousand interviews for our company.
I wouldn't touch a guy like Cam Ward with a ten-foot pole.
The Daily Choice
Michael Jordan could not have comprehended such an attitude.
Because here’s the truth: Competitive drive isn’t a light switch you can flip on and off.
Blow off an optional workout? You won’t push through when the game is on the line.
Coast through practice? You’ll settle for mediocrity when it matters most.
Sit out the second half of a bowl game? You’ll watch your team lose from the sideline.
Excellence is never convenient. It’s never comfortable. It’s a daily decision.
When my son and I watched those highlights, I saw more than the gravity-defying dunks and clutch shots.
I saw a man who refused to accept anything less than greatness.
Happy Birthday, Michael
As Michael Jordan turns 62 today, let’s honor him - not just for what he has achieved, but for how he has lived.
In a world that increasingly celebrates mediocrity, let’s choose greatness.
Not just in sports - but in business, family, faith, and life.
Because every day, we have a choice:
Every practice
Every game
Every meeting
Every customer
Every assignment
Every test
Every family dinner
Every car ride
Every conversation
Every good morning
Every good night
Every prayer
Will we demand excellence from ourselves?
Or will we take the easy way out?
Michael Jordan made his choice.
Will we?
Links:
The Last Dance (2020) - Netflix documentary
Image credit: Alamy
Sharing Midwestern values through the stories of a hard-working single dad, all for the glory of God.