My Time to Fly

When I was a young boy, there was nothing more in the world I wanted than to go see the great Michael Jordan play at the Chicago Arena. In the late 80’s and early 90’s MJ was a God, and growing up in Highland Park where he lived, in essence made him our God.

All my peers would go to games, and come to school bragging. Many of them brought autographed paraphernalia, and almost all of them wore the very expensive shoes, that Jordan seemed to release every 9 months or so. I didn’t need any of that. All I really wanted was to see him play. I didn’t care if it was from the furthest seat. I just wanted to be in the presence of his Airness.

As the years went by, my opportunity never came. I never got to see the G.O.A.T. do his thing in Chicago, or any other city for that matter, but sitting court side at the Bulls vs. Pistons game the other day might have made up for it…kinda. Watching the game while sitting next to the players gave me a unique perspective on how big these men were. It allowed me to feel the energy of the game, and hear the coach as he motivated those running the court, and the 6th man in the wings.

Sitting there also gave me perspective on how far this poor little black boy from Highland Park has come. It is true that I never saw MJ take flight, but that has nothing to do with my ability to soar. It’s my time to fly!

p.s. Thanks Uncle Doug!