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內容簡介

The most gifted athlete ever to play the game, Michael Jordan rose to heights no basketball player had ever reached before. What drove Michael Jordan? The pursuit of team success...or of his own personal glory? The pursuit of excellence...or of his next multimillion-dollar endorsement? The flight of the man they call Air Jordan had been rocked by controversy.

In The Jordan Rules, which chronicles the Chicago Bulls' first championship season, Sam Smith takes the #1 Bull by the horns to reveal the team behind the man...and the man behind the Madison Avenue smile. Here is the inside game, both on and off the court, including:
-Jordan's power struggles with management, from verbal attacks on the general manager to tantrums against his coach
-Behind-the-scenes feuds, as Jordan punches a teammate in practice and refuses to pass the ball in the crucial minutes of big games
-The players who competed with His Airness for Air Time -- Scottie Pippen, Horace Grant, Bill Cartwright -- telling their sides of the story
-A penetrating look at coach Phil Jackson, the former flower child who blossomed into one of the NBA's top motivators and who finally found a way to coax "Michael and the Jordanaires" -to the their first title

A provocative eyewitness account, The Jordan Rules delivers all the nonstop excitement, tension, and thrills of a championship season -- and an intense, fascinating portrait of the incomparable Michael Jordan.

作者簡介

Sam Smith was a reporter for the Chicago Tribune during the Chicago Bulls' 1991 championship season. He is a Brooklyn, New York, native with degrees in accounting from Pace University and in journalism from Ball State University. He has worked for Arthur Young and Co., the Fort Wayne News-Sentinel, and States News Service in Washington, D.C. This is his first book.

內頁插圖

精彩書評

An engaging, sometimes cruelly funny behind-the-scenes look at the Bulls' tantrum-and doubt-filled but finally triumphant journey to the NBA title.
--New York Newsday

Jordan boasts a wicked tongue, and not just when it's hanging out as he dunks....[He] manages to blurt out enough in Smith's book to reveal his own narcissistic, trash-talking, obsessively competitive side.
--Newsweek

The Jordan Rules entertains throughout, but the most fun comes from just hanging out with the players. Smith takes us into the locker room, aboard the team plane and team bus, and seats us on the bench during games. Sometimes, books reflecting on a team's success don't reach the personal level with the people who made it happen: The Jordan Rules does.
--Associated Press

A riveting account...what you want in a sports book: the behind-the-scenes stuff, a peek at the private side of the players, their hobbies and politics and religion, the way they get along or don't...It's fair to compare The Jordan Rules with the campaign books that appear after every presidential race....The difference is not only that The Jordan Rules explains more persuasively than most of the campaign chronicles how the winner was decided -- it's that it does so more interestingly and with more understanding of the human heart.
--Fred Barnes (The McLaughlin Group), The American Spectator

精彩書摘

Chapter One: Spring 1990
Michael Jordan surveyed his crew and got that sinking feeling.
It was just before 11:00 A.M. on May 24, 1990, two days after the Bulls had fallen behind the Detroit Pistons two games to none in the Eastern Conference finals. The city of was awash in spring -- all two hours of it, as the old-time residents like to say -- but Jordan wasn't feeling very sunny. He didn't even feel like playing golf, which friends would say meant he was near death.
The Bulls had gathered for practice at the Deerfield Multiplex, a tony health club about thirty-five miles north of Chicago, to try to get themselves back into the series. Jordan's back hurt, as did his hip, shoulder, wrist, and thigh, thanks to a two-on-one body slam in Game 1 courtesy of Dennis Rodman and John Salley. But his back didn't hurt nearly as much as his pride or his competitiveness, for the Bulls were being soundly whipped by the Pistons, and Jordan was growing desperately angry and frustrated.
"I looked over and saw Horace [Grant] and Scottie [Pippen] screwing around, joking and messing up," Jordan told an acquaintance later. "They've got the talent, but they don't take it seriously. And the rookies were together, as usual. They've got no idea what it's all about. The white guys [John Paxson and Ed Nealy], they work hard, but they don't have the talent. And the rest of them? Who knows what to expect? They're not good for much of anything."
It was a burden Michael Jordan felt he had to bear. The weight of the entire team was on his tired shoulders.
The Pistons had taken the first two games by 86-77 and 102-93, and Detroit's defense had put the Bulls' fast break in neutral: The Bulls had failed to shoot better than 41 percent in either game. Jordan himself had averaged only 27 points, stubbornly going 17 for 43. No team defensed Jordan better than the Pistons, yet he refused to admit that they gave him a hard time, so he played into their hands by attacking the basket right where their collapsing defensive schemes were expecting him. The coaches would look on in exasperation as Jordan drove toward the basket -- "the citadel," assistant coach John Bach liked to call it -- like a lone infantryman attacking a fortified bunker. Too often there was no escape.
Although Detroit's so-called Jordan rules of defense were effective, the Bulls coaches also believed the Pistons had succeeded in pulling a great psychological scam on the referees. It had been a two-part plan. The first step was a series of selectively edited tapes, sent to the league a few years earlier, which purported to show bad fouls being called on defenders despite little contact with Jordan. The Pistons said they weren't even being allowed to defense him. "Ever since then, the foul calls started decreasing," Jordan noted, "and not only those against Detroit."
Step two was the public campaign. The Pistons advertised their "Jordan rules" as some secret defense that only they could deploy to stop Jordan. These secrets were merely a series of funneling defenses that channeled Jordan toward the crowded middle, but Detroit players and coaches talked about them as if they had been devised by the Pentagon. "You hear about them often enough -- and the referees bear it, too -- and you start to think they have something different," said Bach. "It has an effect and suddenly people think they aren't fouling Michael even when they are."
It only added to Jordan's frustration with Detroit.
At halftime of Game 2, with the Bulls trailing 53-38, Jordan walked into the quiet locker room, kicked over a chair, and yelled, "We're playing like a bunch of pussies!" Afterward, he refused to speak to reporters, boarded the bus, and sat in stony silence all the way home. He continued his silence -- other than a few sharp postgame statements -- for the next week. He would not comment on his teammates. "I'll let them stand up and take responsibility for themselves," he told a friend.
Jordan had really believed that the Bulls could defeat Detroit this time. Of course, there was no evidence to suggest it could happen, since the Pistons had knocked the Bulls out of the playoffs the previous two seasons and had taken fourteen of the last seventeen regular-season games between them. But hadn't there been similar odds in 1989 when the Bulls had faced Cleveland in the playoffs? The Cavaliers had won fifty-seven games that season to the Bulls' forty-seven, and they were 6-0 against the Bulls, even winning the last game of the regular season despite resting their starters while the Bulls played theirs. The Bulls' chances were as bleak as Chicago in February.
Jordan promised that the Bulls would win the Cleveland series anyway.
Playing point guard, Jordan averaged 39.8 points, 8.2 assists, and 5.8 rebounds in the five games. And with time expiring in Game 5, he hit a hanging jumper to give the Bulls a 1-point victory. The moment became known in Chicago sports history as "the shot," ranking with Jordan's other "shot" in the 1982 NCAA tournament, a twenty-foot jumper that gave North Carolina a last-second victory over Georgetown. It also sent the Cavaliers plummeting; over the next two seasons, they would not defeat the Bulls once.
The playoffs had become Jordan's stage. He was Bob Hope and Michael Jackson, Mick Jagger and Frank Sinatra. His play transcended the game. It was a sweet melody re The Jordan Rules: The inside Story of a Turbulent Season with Michael Jordan and the Chicago Bulls [ 下載 mobi epub pdf txt 電子書

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有點小，外國齣版社齣版的，讀著看看

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兒時的我，幼稚。 少年時的我，叛逆。 現在高中的我，成熟。 我總是認為，我在爸爸媽媽的眼裏，怎麼也長不大，就算我怎麼再努力去做任何事，在他們的眼中，我始終都還是1.個不懂事的孩子。正因為有如此的思想，我變得不會追求完美，也從來不追求完美。對於學習和生活中的事情，我都做得很隨意，從來不苛刻嚴格要求自己去做某事。因為，始終認為，就算做到瞭沒有做好，那也是做到瞭。因為，在我心目中，隻有做到並不1.定做好的原則。到瞭初中，我接觸到的同學也漸漸多瞭，身邊的競爭力也越老越大。在學習中，我不得不開始努力，因為同學的競爭。為瞭高中的夢想，我開始對自己嚴厲起來，漸漸地我開始苛刻起來瞭。對身邊的每1.件事都開始要求做得比彆人更好。以為隻有這樣，離高中得目標纔不會太遠。因為升中考，我認識到瞭完美。原來，完美是這等容易做到。而且，還認識到，追求完美是不必去在乎彆人的批判。我自己做到瞭，不一定要得到爸爸媽媽得贊賞。因為，所做的事情是對自己而言的。不要永遠生長在爸爸媽媽的評價下，應該樹立自己的要求。樹立自己的衡量標準。讓自己去奮鬥，去卓越自己的夢想。現在，我纔猛然發現，原來我早已開始追求完美，我早已使自己開始進步瞭。 青春無限，在漫長的青春歲月中，我又該如何去度過。這問題，我又對它衡量瞭標準的尺度。人，1.但做錯事就會後悔。這世上，可沒有後悔藥吃。所以，我決定在漫長的青春歲月中，我不可做讓自己後悔的事，每一件事都要去認真的完成，並且做到最好，達到自己的要求。“青春路上，十字路口含義不清。”這句話是我從朋友的博客中摘抄的。這句話正錶達瞭我們青春期少年的心聲。多麼簡明而又含蓄的話，讓人記憶憂深。沒錯，這就是1.個含義不清的十字路口，在這十字路口上，人生的抉擇太多瞭。我總是認為，青春總是美好的，可現在我纔知道，沒有本來就美好的青春，青春是自己去刻畫的。是1.幅色彩豐富的油畫，還是1.幅黑白相嵌的水墨畫，還是生硬死闆的版畫，還是那用黑筆白紙描繪的黑白漫畫，還是...青春就像畫畫1.樣,任你去描繪屬於自己的色彩,去創作屬於自己的畫。青春，正是盛開美麗花朵暖暖春季。 青春，正因為有你，我的一生纔會有點點色彩。人的終點，就是死亡。未死亡的過程中，還有1.段悠悠漫長的人生路，人生路上，還有青春那1.道美麗的彩虹在為你點綴。 努力吧，青春的綻放還不止如此。(二)從現在開始過去不可追，未來卻可期。那麼，就從現在開始。 就從現在開始，未嘗不是因為過往的遺憾，已經太多。那些不再能彌補的過錯，那些不再能追迴的人和感情。水木榮枯，竹石消長，何處問笙簫？形影一遭彆，煙波韆裏分，衣香猶在人跡杳。但若日復一日，活著的人都隻是陪亡故的記憶沉淪，那麼遺憾也不過是再加深一層。而就從現在開始行動，纔能最大限度地挽迴頹勢。 就從現在開始，袖裏藏下過往的沉香，像一名考古學者對待古陶那般，珍重生活。“幸遇三杯酒好，況逢一朵花新。片時歡笑且相親，明日陰晴未定。”就從現在開始，好好對待我們重視的人，因為一刹那的接近後，也許就是暌隔渺茫。且讓我們陪他們風雪一程，哪怕，隻是一程。 可“此情可待成追憶”，這七字的真意，很多人都要待禪機已顯，悲歡將盡時纔能悟齣一二。“就從現在開始”，難免淪為嘴角神功。若放下過去真如此簡單，又怎有人“從此無心愛良夜，任他明月下西樓”？若珍惜現在真如此輕易，哪來“子欲養而親不待”的感慨？話是“就從現在開始”，可顧慮從不會憑空消失。有時道理明明清晰，但卻像皇帝齣巡用的黃金輦，看著華麗卻摸不到；自己不伸手一試，哪知水中月之虛妄？

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書還是不錯的，但是是1993版的，夠古老。

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喜歡NBA的朋友一定要看，經典讀物

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籃球是他的生命，籃球是他的靈魂。

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字有點小，尺寸也不是很大

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速度比較快！速度比較快！

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速度比較快！速度比較快！

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