Samantha Davis stood by the gymnasium wall, her arms folded as the echo of bouncing basketballs filled the air. The high school gym was packed, but her mind was elsewhere. As captain of the girls’ basketball team, she was focused on the scouts in the stands, the pressure to perform, and her dreams of a college scholarship. She barely noticed the tall, lanky boy sitting on the bleachers, quietly watching the game—Michael Jordan.
Michael was always around, practicing alone, his dedication obvious but his presence easy to overlook. He was awkward, reserved, and didn’t quite fit in with the other boys. Samantha, laser-focused on her own ambitions, never gave him much thought.
That changed one evening after a big win. The gym was almost empty, the buzz of victory still in the air. Samantha was laughing with her friends when she felt a tentative tap on her shoulder. She turned to see Michael, standing nervously, his hands shoved into his pockets.
“Hey, Sam,” he said, voice trembling. “Would you… um, would you go to prom with me?”
Her laughter came before she could stop it. Her friends joined in, their snickers echoing off the gym walls. “Are you serious?” she blurted. “You really think I’d go with you?”
Michael’s face fell. He didn’t argue or plead. He just nodded, turned, and walked away, his shoulders hunched. Samantha felt nothing—no guilt, no regret. She had bigger plans than prom.
The season ended with Samantha leading her team to victory and securing a college scholarship. Michael made the varsity team the next year, but he was still quiet, still in the background. She hardly noticed when his name started appearing in the local paper, then in state rankings, and finally in the mouths of college scouts.
Years passed. Samantha’s college basketball dreams fizzled out—injuries, competition, and the reality of life narrowing her path. She returned to her hometown, managing a small sports store, content but haunted by the ghost of what might have been.
Michael’s name, meanwhile, became legend. She saw him on TV, winning championships, breaking records, changing the face of basketball. Sometimes, when the store was quiet, she’d look up from her work and see his face on the news, his name in the headlines. She felt a distant pride, mixed with a sharper pang of regret.
One evening, as she was closing up shop, she noticed a small package on the counter. The return address was from Chicago, the handwriting familiar. She opened it, hands trembling, to find a framed Chicago Bulls jersey, signed by Michael Jordan. Tucked inside was a handwritten note:
*You were my first rejection, but I learned to rise because of it. Thank you for helping me see what I was capable of.*
Samantha sat down hard, the weight of the jersey heavy in her lap. Tears stung her eyes as memories flooded back—the night she laughed at him, the way he’d walked away, the years she’d spent never giving it a second thought. She realized, painfully, that she had been part of the fire that forged his greatness.
For days, she carried the jersey around her house, the note tucked securely behind the glass. She wanted to call him, to apologize, but what could she say? That she was sorry for dismissing him? That she hadn’t seen his potential? That she’d been too wrapped up in her own dreams to notice someone else’s?
A week later, another package arrived. This one was from Terry Hawkins, a quiet classmate she barely remembered. His letter was short:
*I heard about your store. I’ve watched Michael’s journey for years, and something he said reminded me of you. You were a driving force for me too, even if you didn’t know it. Michael wasn’t the only one you rejected—I never took my shot. That’s my regret. Keep pushing forward, Sam. You’ve got something more inside you.*
The words stung, but also healed. She wasn’t the only one with regrets. She wasn’t the only one who’d missed chances, who’d failed to see the potential in others.
Samantha began to reflect on her life, on the walls she’d built around herself, on the pride and fear that had kept her from connecting with people who could have changed her life—or whose lives she could have changed. She realized that her greatest mistake wasn’t rejecting Michael, but closing herself off from the possibility of seeing greatness in unexpected places.
One evening, she sat at her kitchen table, Michael’s note and Terry’s letter before her. She opened her phone, heart racing, and typed a message to Michael. She told him the truth: that she was sorry, that she admired what he’d become, and that his gift had changed her.
She hit send, half expecting silence. But minutes later, her phone buzzed.
*Sam, I never expected to hear from you, but it’s good to know some things come full circle. Let’s talk soon.*
She sat on her porch, the jersey in her lap, the sun setting in shades of orange and pink. For the first time in years, she felt hope. Michael had forgiven her. He had moved forward, and now, maybe, so could she.
The next week, Samantha started volunteering at the local community center, coaching basketball for kids who reminded her of Michael—awkward, overlooked, but full of potential. She shared her story, her mistakes, and her lessons. She taught them that greatness isn’t always obvious, and that a single act of kindness—or cruelty—can change a life.
Michael’s gift had been more than a jersey. It was a reminder that rejection can be a spark, that forgiveness is possible, and that it’s never too late to see the greatness in others—or in yourself.
And as the seasons changed, Samantha found peace, knowing that while she couldn’t rewrite the past, she could help shape the future—one kid, one game, one act of kindness at a time.
Michael Jordan’s gushing 1981 love letter to his high-school sweetheart revealed as it goes up for auction
Even as a young, lovestruck teenager, Michael Jordan’s heart belonged to basketball.
As revealed in a letter he sent to a high-school sweetheart in May of 1981, Jordan was clearly struggling to balance his love life with the game he would come to define.
‘Laquetta you are my whole life next to basketball,’ the 18-year-old Jordan wrote months before he began to play for coach Dean Smith at North Carolina.
‘Please don’t get mad about that statement,’ he wrote, backtracking from the dubious compliment. ‘You are my whole life. But you can’t have basketball. It (sic) hard for me to do this because one day I hope to make a living of this and I want you to be by my side. I can never show you how much my love goes for you but each day I try to show you.’
That letter, scripted in blue ink on two separate sheets of lined notebook paper, is now being auctioned by Lelands, where the starting bid is $10,000.
Jordan’s neat handwriting is easily intelligible, although his grammar could use some work as the 18-year-old omitted a few question marks, among other errors: ‘How has life treated you since the last time I seen you. (sic) How are your parents and the rest of your family doing, fine I hope. (sic)’
Last year, a prom photo of Michael Jordan and Laquetta Robinson sold at auction for $3,960
Thr letter, scripted in blue ink on two separate sheets of lined notebook paper, is now being auctioned by Lelands, where the starting bid is $10,000
The famously self-confident Jordan does make a few prophetic remarks, vowing ‘next year I will show you things you can’t believe’ and adding: ‘Some of these things will amaze you.’
Less than a year later, Jordan would hit the game-winning shot to beat Georgetown in the 1982 NCAA Championship.
Jordan also attempts to demonstrate his love for Laquetta by repeatedly stating his desire to get closer to her and her family. Although he does mention someone named Lynwood who opposes their relationship.
‘Laquetta, I will go out my way just to speak to you,’ Jordan wrote. ‘This show you how much I really care. My love for you will never run out. It will continue on through life. I am trying to get closer and closer to your family.
‘I want them to know that I love you, but if Lynwood doesn’t want that, then it will be sort of hard for me to do this,’ he continued. ‘I hope you love for me and my love for you can overcome his reasons for us not getting together.
‘Well, I think I have explained myself pretty good,’ he concluded. ‘I guess I better go. Hope to speak or see you soon.’
Jordan’s neat handwriting is easily intelligible, although his grammar could use some work as the 18-year-old omitted a few question marks, among other errors
North Carolina freshman Michael Jordan (23) sinks the shot to win the NCAA Photos via Getty Images National Basketball Championship game held at the Superdome in New Orleans, LA. Georgetown’s Eric Smith (32) can only watch the ball hit its mark
North Carolina guard Michael Jordan (23) during the NCAA Photos via Getty Images Final Four championship game held in New Orleans, LA Superdome. North Carolina defeated Georgetown 63-62 for the title
He signed his letter ‘Michael Jordan’ just a few short years after growing up as ‘Mike.’
Laquetta Robinson attended Laney High School in Wilmington, North Carlina with the future Chicago Bulls legend. In 2011 she claimed other love letters from Jordan had been stolen from her North Carolina home, and even threatened to sue after the items were sold at auction.
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Last year, a prom photo of Jordan and Robinson sold at auction for $3,960.
It remains unclear how Lelands obtained the letter that is currently up for auction. A company spokesperson did not immediately return DailyMail.com’s request for further comment on Monday evening.
In any case, Jordan and Laquetta would drift apart. He would go on to win a national championship with the Tar Heels before being drafted with the third pick of the 1984 draft and going on to NBA superstardom.
Since then, he’s been romantically linked to actress Robin Givens, married Juanita Vanoy, who gave him his three children before their 2002 divorce, and later wed Cuban-American model Yvette Prieto.
Confusingly, another woman named Laquetta sued Jordan for paternity in 2013, but the case was dismissed after another man was found to be the father of the child. That woman, Laquetta Theus, was ordered to pay Jordan’s legal fees of $6,510.61.
