“Why?” they insisted, stepping further into my personal space. “Why did Michael Jordan retire?”
“Did he?” Too busy that week to read China Daily, I hadn’t heard. Everyone else in China had, and they were grieving.
“He is best in the world.”
“He should not retire.”
“Please tell us why he retires.”
“Look,” I waved them off, “I’m not in America, I’m here. You heard the news. Did they say why he retired?”
“No. Only that he chooses to retire.”
Perplexed, disturbed, they needed an answer – and found no comfort in me, who could have cared less. In this they were more American than me: many were devoted NBA fans, whereas I’d never watched a full game.
The rest of that year I heard over and over, when meeting new people: “Do you know Michael Jordan?” The question was a language trap:
“Do you know Michael Jordan?”
“No.”
“You do not know Michael Jordan? Are you really from America?” (Laughter.) “How can you not know Michael Jordan?”
“Do you know Michael Jordan?”
“Yes.”
(Eyes widen in disbelief and awe.) “Really? You really know him?”
“Do you know Michael Jordan?”
“Not personally.”
(Silence, wondering what “not personally” means.)
The only way out of the trap was a direct launch into the full explanation: “Yes, I know who Michael Jordan is, but I have never met him.”
Of all the things I expected out of a year in China, regularly specifying my degree of connection to Michael Jordan wasn’t one of them.
