"I wasn't someone who liked looking back. I always felt that looking back slowed you down. But tonight, I allowed myself to look back once. I saw the fans at the United Center, the staff members who had been here since my rookie season, and my teammates—Malone, Ewing, Harper, Kukoc. I saw many things. I saw an entire era."
His voice dropped lower, as though he were speaking to himself.
"That era is over. Not because I retired, but because its time had come. Every era has its beginning and its end. The '90s belonged to the Chicago Bulls. They belonged to Michael Jordan. But now it's 2000. It's a new era. Li Fei, Shaq, Kobe, Duncan—these young men will take over this league. They'll play their own game, win their own championships, and create their own legends. That's how it should be. That's what basketball should be."
A reporter stood up. "Michael, you said you wouldn't look back, but what do you want to say to the fans in Chicago?"
Jordan lowered his head and looked at the microphone on the table.
His fingers lightly brushed along the microphone's metal stem. "I want to say thank you. Thank you for being with me for twenty years. Thank you for every cheer, every round of applause, every 'MVP.' Playing in a Chicago Bulls jersey was the proudest thing I've ever done in my life. Not because of the championships, not because of the MVPs, but because of you. Because every time I stepped onto the court, I could see those faces in red jerseys. Those faces made me feel like I wasn't fighting alone."
He raised his head and looked into the cameras.
His eyes were slightly red, but he did not cry.
"Next season, we'll be back. No matter