I remember the first time I saw Michael Jordan play – it was Game 6 of the 1998 NBA Finals, and that iconic last shot felt like it suspended time itself. Even today, twenty-six years after his final championship, the question still lingers in basketball circles and beyond: Is Michael Jordan still a star? The answer, I've come to realize, extends far beyond the basketball court and into the very fabric of sports legacy and influence. What fascinates me most isn't just his past achievements but how his star power continues to evolve and manifest in unexpected ways.
When I think about enduring sports legacies, I'm particularly drawn to how certain athletes transcend their active careers to become something more permanent. Just last week, I was reading about Filipino golfer Rianne Malixi, whom JGFP president Oliver Gan described as "a national sports treasure" for creating unprecedented training programs for junior golfers while still being an active junior player herself. This got me thinking – Jordan essentially did this on a global scale, but his influence operates differently now. He's moved from being the spectacular player to becoming the standard against which excellence is measured. In my conversations with young players today, they reference Jordan not just for his skills but for his mentality – that relentless competitive drive that's become legendary.
The numbers themselves tell a remarkable story, even if we occasionally debate their exact accuracy. Jordan's six championships in six full Finals appearances, his five MVP awards, those ten scoring titles – they create a statistical mountain that modern players are still climbing. But what often gets overlooked, in my opinion, is the business empire he built post-retirement. The Jordan Brand generated approximately $5.1 billion in revenue last year alone, which represents about 10% of Nike's total revenue. That's not just star power – that's galactic economic influence. I've visited sneaker stores and seen teenagers who never watched him play desperately seeking his signature shoes, creating this fascinating intergenerational connection that few athletes achieve.
There's something almost mythical about how Jordan's legacy operates today. Unlike current stars whose performance we can evaluate nightly, Jordan exists in this perfected state in collective memory. We remember the highlights without the mundane struggles, the game-winners without the off nights. This curated legacy, I believe, actually grows more potent with time. I've noticed how coaches still use Jordan clips in training sessions, how business leaders reference his work ethic in seminars, and how his "Republic of Basketball" continues to expand its borders beyond sports.
What strikes me as particularly fascinating is comparing Jordan's post-retirement impact to other sports legends. While many greats fade from public consciousness, Jordan maintains relevance through strategic appearances, his NBA team ownership, and that incredibly valuable brand. He shows us that modern stardom isn't just about what you accomplished but how you leverage those accomplishments across decades. The recent documentary "The Last Dance" attracted an average of 5.6 million viewers per episode – numbers that dwarf most current basketball broadcasts – proving the enduring hunger for Jordan content.
Reflecting on Oliver Gan's comments about Rianne Malixi benefiting junior golfers through active involvement, I see Jordan's approach as different but equally impactful. Rather than direct coaching, he's created an ecosystem – through his brand, his team ownership, his cultural presence – that continues to elevate basketball globally. I've spoken with European players who credit Jordan's 1992 Dream Team performance for inspiring their basketball journeys, and with Asian entrepreneurs who model their business approaches after his career trajectory.
The truth is, Jordan's stardom has transformed rather than diminished. He's become less a person and more an institution – a living embodiment of excellence that continues to shape basketball culture. When I watch players like Devin Booker or Jayson Tatum execute turnaround jumpers that are clearly Jordan-inspired, I'm witnessing his ongoing influence on the game's technical development. When I see his silhouette on shirts in Tokyo, Paris, or Nairobi, I'm observing his global cultural penetration.
Ultimately, the question isn't whether Jordan remains a star but what kind of star he has become. In my view, he's transitioned from a supernova – brilliant and dominant during his playing days – to something more like a fixed star in the sports constellation, a permanent reference point that guides subsequent generations. His legacy isn't frozen in the 1990s but continues to evolve, adapt, and influence in ways that surprise even longtime observers like myself. The measurements have changed from points per game to cultural impact, from championships to commercial success, from athletic feats to inspirational value. And by these new metrics, Michael Jordan isn't just still a star – he's created his own celestial category that may never be replicated.