From Michael Leahy's Jordan book:
Famously hard in the past on many of his Bulls teammates, Jordan saw his approach in the Wizards camp as part of the toughening process for rookies and others who had not yet learned how to win in the NBA. He liked testing people, even when it ran the risk of temporarily breaking their spirit, certain that the strong would become better for it, and that the intimidated were unworthy anyway. He rode Tyronn Lue hard for not passing him the ball in his favorite place down low near the basket and for not being positioned at the right spots to take Jordan's passes and shoot long jumpers: "What are you doin' runnin' around? Get me the ball, get set, catch my pass and shoot. I don't give a (expletive) how far out you are. Shoot out there. If you're open, don't be drivin' down in the lane and gettin' that (expletive) swatted away. Shoot."
He would be flabbergasted watching Brendan Haywood drop balls, and scornful when Courtney Alexander and Richard Hamilton got burned on defense or didn't fill the proper lane on a fast break. But he saved his most withering looks and words for Brown, with whom he didn't seem to know what he wanted to do, lavishing attention on the kid in one moment, skewering him the next. Freely admitting to having had his ass kicked on many days, Brown had taken refuge in his video games. He loved these solitary contests, his head bent with a concentration so complete that teammates calling to him sometimes couldn't get his attention.
Jordan sporadically continued trying to play the role of mentor. It was not something that came to him naturally. He regularly approached Brown in locker rooms, whispering to him, earnestly patting his back for a couple of seconds. But they were separated by a full generation, and nothing linked them other than basketball and their passion for games.
Play stopped. There was an electric silence. A wide-eyed Jordan was walking toward him. "You (expletive) flaming (expletive)," Jordan exploded. "You don't get a foul call on a (expletive) little touch foul, you (expletive). You don't bring that (expletive) here. Get your (expletive) ass back on the floor and play. I don't want to hear that (expletive) out of you again. Get your ass back and play, you (expletive)."
"It was pretty rough," Brown recalled later of the scrimmage. "But that's Michael Jordan. You deal with it. You learn you're a rookie and you're not going to get calls. ... But sometimes I felt all alone out there, like I was surrounded by sharks."
Jordan was a hell of a mentor. So gracious even in victory, too:
http://sports.espn.go.com/chicago/colum ... id=4468210
The greatest athlete of our time made sure to point out the high school coach who didn't put him on the varsity his sophomore year. (He was never cut, per se. That's an urban myth akin to Catfish Hunter's nickname origin.) He pointed out the guy who made the team "over" him, who was in the audience; his college roommate, Buzz Peterson; the NBA vets who froze him out in his first All-Star Game, two of whom were there, George Gervin (who presented David Robinson) and Isiah Thomas (who presented John Stockton); Jazz guard Bryon Russell, who was guarding him on his final shot in a Bulls uniform; and, of course, former Bulls general manager Jerry Krause, with whom he had real conflict during his career. Krause, forever the outsider looking in, made the mistake of claiming he was skipping Jordan's induction because former coach Tex Winter, the originator of the triangle offense, wasn't inducted.
Onstage, Jordan adroitly, and unnecessarily, noted Krause wasn't invited before going on a diatribe about how organizations don't win championships, great players like him do -- a reversal of a much-traveled portion of a longer, more balanced quote credited to Krause. Jordan was right, of course, but why bring that up on the stage in front of basketball's upper echelon? Because Jordan is the ultimate alpha male and this was his alpha male moment.
Current favorite players (in no specific order): Jeremy Lane, Colin Kaepernick, Eric Reed, Arian Foster, Brandon Marshall (DEN version), and of course, the real one Marshawn Lynch