In the world of sports, few debates rage as fiercely as the one over basketball’s greatest of all time—the GOAT. For years, Michael Jordan and LeBron James have stood at the center of this storm, their careers dissected and compared by fans, analysts, and former players alike. But every so often, a moment comes along that seems to tip the scales, a moment so definitive that even the most passionate supporters of one side are left momentarily speechless. Such a moment unfolded on ESPN’s “First Take,” when Stephen A. Smith and Shannon Sharpe went head-to-head, and Stephen A. unveiled the stat that would send shockwaves through the GOAT conversation: Michael Jordan’s staggering 173 games with 40 or more points—accomplished in just 15 seasons, seven fewer than LeBron James.
The Setting: First Take’s Fiery Showdown
It was supposed to be a celebration for LeBron James. Fresh off a 42-point performance against the Golden State Warriors in his 22nd NBA season, LeBron had once again defied Father Time. Shannon Sharpe, never shy about his admiration for LeBron, walked onto the “First Take” set with a spring in his step, ready to trumpet his man’s greatness. But what followed was less a debate and more a masterclass in argument, as Stephen A. Smith, armed with facts and unshakable conviction, systematically dismantled every point in LeBron’s favor.
The Stat That Changed Everything
Shannon’s opening salvo was simple: “LeBron just dropped 42. In year 22. Who else is doing that?” It was a fair question. Longevity is one of LeBron’s calling cards, and his ability to perform at such a high level so late in his career is nearly unprecedented. But Stephen A. was unmoved. He didn’t even blink. “Jordan dropped 40 at age 40,” he fired back. “And he did it 173 times in his career. LeBron? Just 78.”
The numbers hung in the air. For a moment, even Shannon Sharpe was silent. The impact was immediate and undeniable. This wasn’t just about scoring; it was about dominance, efficiency, and an ability to rise to the occasion time and time again. Jordan didn’t need 22 seasons to make his mark—he got it done faster, with more consistency, and with less help.
Beyond the Numbers: Mindset and Legacy
But as Stephen A. was quick to point out, the GOAT debate isn’t just about stats. It’s about mentality. It’s about legacy. And when it comes to those intangibles, Jordan’s shadow looms even larger.
Stephen A. leaned forward, his voice dropping to a near whisper, the kind of delivery that signals something important is coming. “Jordan didn’t have to go to South Beach to learn how to win,” he said, referencing LeBron’s now-infamous decision to leave Cleveland for Miami in pursuit of a championship. “He stayed in Chicago. He took his hits. He took the grind. Then he took the league by storm.”
For Stephen A., LeBron’s move to Miami was more than just a career decision—it was a red flag, a sign that he needed help to reach the mountaintop. Jordan, by contrast, built his dynasty from within. He didn’t call Dwyane Wade or Chris Bosh. He didn’t form alliances. He didn’t announce his decision on national television. He simply outworked, outwilled, and outplayed everyone in his path.
The Kingdom and the Crown
As the debate raged on, Stephen A. delivered what he called the “final dagger.” “Once Jordan got the kingdom,” he asked, “when did he give it up? Who did he hand it to? Barkley? Malone? Reggie? Nobody. He never gave it up.” The implication was clear: When Jordan was on top, he stayed on top. There was no passing of the torch, no surrendering of the crown. He was, in every sense, the king of the NBA.
Shannon, desperate to keep the argument alive, played the classic LeBron fan card: “If Jordan wanted to, he could have done it too. He could have played longer. He could have stacked stats.” But Stephen A. was ready. “Your man had seven more years,” he shot back, “and he still hasn’t caught Jordan. That’s the part that stings. This isn’t about potential. It’s about results.”
The Role of Teammates
No GOAT debate is complete without a discussion of teammates. LeBron’s career has been defined by his partnerships with other stars—Dwyane Wade, Chris Bosh, Ray Allen, Kyrie Irving, Kevin Love, Anthony Davis. Stephen A. rattled off the names with a laugh: “What do you want next, an apron and a bib too?” The implication was clear: LeBron has always needed help, while Jordan made those around him better. He didn’t join stars—he created them.
The Killer Instinct
But perhaps the most devastating point Stephen A. made was about mentality. “Jordan didn’t just beat you,” he said. “He broke you. He snatched the heart out of your chest.” For all of LeBron’s statistical brilliance, Stephen A. argued, he never inspired the same fear, never commanded the same respect from his opponents. Jordan’s killer instinct was legendary, his will to win unmatched. He wasn’t playing for love or approval—he was playing to dominate, to leave no doubt.
Six for Six: The Final Word
In the end, it all comes down to the biggest stage. Jordan went six for six in the NBA Finals. He never lost, never needed a Game 7, never gave the crown away. LeBron, for all his greatness, has lost in the Finals more times than he’s won. He’s had more chances, more seasons, more teammates, and yet, as Stephen A. put it, “he’s still behind the ghost.”
The Debate Rages On
As the segment ended, Stephen A. summed up the heart of the debate: “If greatness is about chasing, then Jordan never had to chase anyone.” LeBron can keep adding points, keep breaking records, but as long as the conversation is about who had the edge when it mattered most, it will always come back to MJ—the 173, the rings, the Finals, the fear.
The GOAT debate isn’t just about numbers or accolades. It’s about dominance, legacy, and the ability to rise above the moment when everything is on the line. And in that sense, Michael Jordan remains the standard by which all others are measured.
So, is the debate really over? Or can LeBron still rewrite the story? For now, at least, Stephen A. Smith has made his case—and for many, it’s the final word. But as long as basketball is played, the conversation will continue. And that, perhaps, is the greatest tribute to both men’s enduring greatness.
