At the height of his career, Michael Jordan was accustomed to admiration, not contempt. But even legends can be made to feel small.
It happened in a gleaming VIP lounge at a bustling airport. Jordan, dressed in a modest suit, entered quietly, his assistant Angela trailing behind. The room was filled with well-dressed executives, their laughter and conversation falling silent as Michael walked in. Mrs. Williams, an elderly black woman working as the attendant, offered him coffee with trembling hands and eyes shining with pride. But not everyone in the lounge welcomed him.
Richard Evans, a billionaire businessman with silver hair and a cold smile, leaned toward his colleagues and sneered, “Look who just arrived. The king of hoops thinks he can play on our team.” His words, designed to sting, echoed through the lounge. Another executive laughed, “This is what happens when they let just anyone into VIP lounges.”
Angela, feeling the hostility, gripped Michael’s arm. “Ignore them,” she whispered. Michael thanked Mrs. Williams for the coffee, his gratitude sincere. But Richard wasn’t finished. He strutted over, extended a cold hand, and squeezed Michael’s tightly. “You’re famous, Jordan, but business is for grown-ups. Maybe you should stick to the court.”
Michael’s face remained impassive, but his eyes—those same eyes that had once terrified opponents—locked onto Richard’s with a burning intensity. Richard raised his voice, ensuring everyone heard. “These celebrities think they understand business. Poor souls. They don’t know the difference between a ball and a balance sheet.” Mrs. Williams bowed her head in shame, while Angela clenched her fists in anger.
But Michael didn’t respond. He simply held onto his dignity, thanked Mrs. Williams again, and left the lounge as Richard toasted his supposed victory. “Bet he’ll come crawling back for a job,” Richard laughed.
In the car, Angela finally broke the silence. “Why didn’t you respond, Michael? That man deserved to be put in his place.” Michael adjusted his tie and sighed. “I’ve been through worse, Angela. But you never get used to it. It never stops hurting.”
He thought back to his childhood in North Carolina, to the neighbors who whispered that he’d never amount to anything. To the high school coach who told him poor kids like him didn’t go far. To the countless times, even as a superstar, he was treated as if he didn’t belong. But he also remembered his mother’s words: “They may close doors, but they can’t close who you are. Your greatness comes from within.”
That night, Michael sat in his modest office, reviewing dreams and business plans that had been rejected by banks and investors. The rejection letters stung with the same old prejudice—“We don’t invest in athletes. Maybe stick to what you do best.” Angela asked if he was giving up. Michael shook his head, a determined smile on his lips. “If no one believes in me, I’ll believe in myself.”
He invested his own savings into opening a small store. It was humble, but it was his. In the early days, only a handful of customers came. Michael worked the floor, cleaned up spills, and greeted every visitor with the same respect he had always shown on the court. Word spread. Slowly, the business grew. People came not just for the products, but for the experience of being served by Michael Jordan himself.
One morning, Mrs. Williams visited the shop. She beamed with pride. “You inspire more than you know, son,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion. Michael’s business became a beacon for the community, hiring young people, offering mentorship, and proving that greatness wasn’t confined to the basketball court.
Years passed. The store expanded. Michael’s reputation as a businessman grew. Then, one day, Angela rushed in with a newspaper. Richard Evans’s empire was collapsing amid scandal and fraud. He was desperate for help. That afternoon, Michael received an email: Richard, humbled and out of options, was requesting a meeting.
Angela was skeptical. “After everything he did to you?” But Michael, calm and resolute, agreed to meet.
In the opulent boardroom of Evans Enterprises, Richard looked nothing like the arrogant man from the airport. He was older, smaller, his confidence replaced by desperation. “I need your help,” Richard admitted, sliding financial documents across the table. “You’re the only one I can trust. No one else will work with me.”
Michael listened in silence. He thought of Mrs. Williams, of Angela, of all the young people who looked up to him. He remembered the humiliation, but also the strength he’d found in overcoming it. “Respect isn’t bought, Richard. It’s built,” Michael said. “You were right about one thing—business is for big people. But greatness isn’t what you thought it was.”
Richard offered Michael half the company, then more. But Michael shook his head. “It’s not about percentages. It’s about dignity, respect, and justice. If I help you, there will be changes. Real diversity. Mentorship programs. Reparations for those you overlooked.”
Richard, defeated, agreed.
Michael brought in a new advisory board—young, diverse, brilliant minds ready to transform the company. He insisted on real change, not just for appearances, but for the future. The company was restructured, renamed Jordan Evans Enterprises, and became a model for inclusion and social impact.
Months later, Michael stood on stage before the company’s employees. Richard sat in the front row, transformed by humility and gratitude. “No one defines your worth but you,” Michael told the crowd. “It doesn’t matter how many doors close. Your worth is in who you choose to be, every day.”
The business thrived, but more importantly, it changed lives. Mrs. Williams, now retired, watched the news with tears in her eyes. “I knew it, son. I always knew.”
Years later, in that same airport lounge, Michael and Mrs. Williams reunited—no longer as employee and guest, but as equals, as family. The world had changed, just a little, because one man chose not revenge, but transformation.
Michael Jordan’s greatest victory wasn’t on the court. It was in showing that true greatness comes not from what you achieve, but from how you lift others as you rise.
“I’m Not His Driver, I’m His Slave”: $2.2 Billion Michael Jordan’s Close Friend Described Working For The 6x Champ
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Feb 15, 1996; Auburn Hills MI, USA; FILE PHOTO; Chicago Bulls guard Michael Jordan (23) in action against the Detroit Pistons at the Palace at Auburn Hills. The Bulls beat the Pistons 112-109 in overtime. Mandatory Credit: Matthew Emmons-USA TODAY Sports
Being Michael Jordan is much more difficult than most could ever comprehend. The Chicago Bulls legend has a net worth of $2.2 billion and even when he didn’t have that kind of wealth and was in the NBA playing for a ‘couple million dollars’ a year, it’s tough to find people who want you, for you.
Everybody in Jordan’s life most certainly wants something out of their connection with the 6x NBA champion. So, when it comes to finding true friends, MJ has always had to keep an eye for people who were simply trying to use him.
This is why most of his closest friends are ones he made before all of the fame, whether it be from school or it be from when he was in his infancy stage of being a star in the league. Someone who he met around the time of his rookie season was a man who he would go on to call a friend even after his second retirement and beyond.
George Koehler can safely say that he is a close friend of Michael Jordan
The first man who met Michael Jordan after he had gotten drafted to the Bulls was none other than George Koehler. Well, he technically wasn’t the ‘first man’ who MJ met as team personnel would be the first but when it comes to native Chicagoans, Koehler might’ve been the first.
He owned a limo company at the time and this was perfect timings as someone who would have their fame skyrocket in a matter of weeks needed both a personal car service and driver. Luckily for him, Koehler provided his services almost immediately.
“I am not really the driver. I’m kind of like the personal slave. There are 1,000,000 people in this world who would love to hang out with Michael. Fortunately, I am a friend, and as long as he wants me around, I will be around,” said Koehler.
Michael Jordan lost a great friend in Charles Barkley
One man who Michael Jordan befriended and became quite fond of during his time in the NBA was none other than Charles Barkley. They would golf together and gamble together while also doing interviews on air with one another.
However, this all changed when Chuck took to his ‘Inside the NBA’ show to berate MJ on his front office management skills while with the Washington Wizards. Jordan took this personally and for the past 15+ years, they have not spoken.
