The year was 1994. I had graduated from Samford, been on my second Campus Outreach Beach Project and was now back in Birmingham, AL working for AmSouth Investment Services. Lo and behold, the already legendary Michael Jordan, who shocked the world by retiring from the Chicago Bulls, was debuting for the Birmingham Barons minor league baseball team. As you can imagine, the city of Birmingham was all aglow. God was coming to reside in my town! Naturally, I got caught up in the daily rumors of what Jordan was doing in the city. I was starstruck.
I saw His Greatness three times: once at a golf charity event and twice at the ballpark. By far the most memorable moment was one evening when my friend, Vince Noblitt, and I went to a Barons game. We had very good seats, just a few rows behind the home dugout. MJ was finishing up his pregame warmup and was walking back to the dugout, his head down, an obvious attempt to focus on the game and ignore the loud screams of kids who were clamoring for an autograph. As Jordan neared the dugout, I raised my hands to my mouth in order to project my voice, and hollered, in a controlled way, like an old friend, "Michael!" Suddenly, the legend himself lifted his head and looked right at me, surely thinking he would see someone he knew. When he made eye contact, I smiled and gave a thumbs up. In return, he grinned. I had pulled a Machiavelli on the greatest player to ever play basketball and arguably the most supreme sports star ever in our land. Shortly after it happened, Vince looked at me and said with a laugh, "We can go home now." Of course, we didn't. We stayed put and watched Michael Jordan attempt to play baseball.
I saw His Greatness three times: once at a golf charity event and twice at the ballpark. By far the most memorable moment was one evening when my friend, Vince Noblitt, and I went to a Barons game. We had very good seats, just a few rows behind the home dugout. MJ was finishing up his pregame warmup and was walking back to the dugout, his head down, an obvious attempt to focus on the game and ignore the loud screams of kids who were clamoring for an autograph. As Jordan neared the dugout, I raised my hands to my mouth in order to project my voice, and hollered, in a controlled way, like an old friend, "Michael!" Suddenly, the legend himself lifted his head and looked right at me, surely thinking he would see someone he knew. When he made eye contact, I smiled and gave a thumbs up. In return, he grinned. I had pulled a Machiavelli on the greatest player to ever play basketball and arguably the most supreme sports star ever in our land. Shortly after it happened, Vince looked at me and said with a laugh, "We can go home now." Of course, we didn't. We stayed put and watched Michael Jordan attempt to play baseball.
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