The Real Reason Michael Jordan Returned to the NBA at 38 — And It Had Nothing to Do with Money
Michael Jordan’s comeback at 38 wasn’t driven by paychecks or fame—it was fueled by pure passion and unfinished business. The GOAT laced up once more not for fortune, but for the fire that still burned inside him to compete, inspire, and prove he could still dominate the game he loved.
When Michael Jordan walked away from basketball for the second time in 1999, the world collectively exhaled. He had already achieved what most athletes only dream of: six NBA championships, five MVP awards, and a legacy that transcended the sport itself. To many, he was the greatest basketball player of all time—the GOAT. His iconic last shot with the Chicago Bulls in the 1998 NBA Finals, a jumper over Bryon Russell to clinch his sixth title, seemed the perfect Hollywood ending. But for Jordan, the story wasn’t finished. There was still a fire burning, an itch that only the game could scratch.
The President, the Owner, and the Restless Competitor
After retiring, Michael Jordan didn’t stray far from basketball. In 2000, he became a part-owner and President of Basketball Operations for the Washington Wizards, a struggling franchise searching for identity and relevance. Jordan’s presence alone brought instant credibility and a renewed sense of hope to the organization. He was no longer lacing up his sneakers, but he was still in the gym, still in the meetings, still in the game.
Yet, as months passed, it became clear that Jordan’s competitive spirit was undiminished. He spent hours on the practice court, sometimes outplaying the very athletes he was supposed to be mentoring. “He was still the best player in the gym,” Wizards guard Richard Hamilton recalled. “He’d challenge us, trash talk, and then back it up.”
The turning point came in late 2000 when Jordan watched hockey legend Mario Lemieux return to the NHL after retiring, not only as a player but also as part-owner of the Pittsburgh Penguins. Lemieux’s comeback inspired Jordan, showing him it was possible to return to the game you love—even after stepping away, even after taking on a suit and tie. The idea began to take root: maybe, just maybe, there was unfinished business left on the hardwood.
While Jordan helped sell out the team’s home arena, the MCI Center (now the Capital One Arena), in D.C. throughout his tenure at the team, the results of his time there were mixed, as was the Wizards’ own record. “Study the king during a game, and so much looks just as it always has. Whenever he goes against a defender he believes he can overpower, he posts up with the same ferocity, hooking his leg over his opponent’s, holding him at bay with his elbows, willing himself to win the scrum that leads to superior position,” Sports Illustrated’s Jack McCallum wrote in 2003, upon Jordan’s 40th birthday, while also adding, “Is he still the same player? Of course not.”
The Village Voice’s Mitch Abramson was more harsh: “He looks more like a struggling old prizefighter trying to win back a title than a veteran basketball player ready to roll,” the sports writer said. Of Jordan’s time at the Wizards, Jordan’s own agent David Falk said “I just don’t think it was a good dessert to a great meal,” according to Nonstop. Just the same, in his 2002-2003 season with the Wizards, he became ‘the first 40-year-old in NBA history to score over 40 points in a game—something he did twice that year,” as Yahoo! Sports and Basketball Network shared. “He still got up Air Jordan, even in that Wizards jersey,” ESPN Throwback said years later.
Jordan had some knowledge as to the extent of his own abilities when he came back in 2001, sharing in a press conference that October that “If I can do it, great. If I can’t, great, that’s great too,” according to Yahoo! Sports and Basketball Network. “I just want to play the game of basketball that I love. I’m not about the money. I don’t care if I’m paid a single dime; I’ve said that many years.”
All the same, Jordan’s legacy of greatness has stayed intact, as he said it would in that same press conference: “You can’t take my six championships away, you can’t take all the things that I’ve done as much as you probably want to.” It seems fans can never get enough of him either—he’ll even join NBC Sports as a commentator this coming fall.
By the summer of 2001, rumors were swirling. Jordan was working out, training with NBA players, and looking every bit the competitor he had always been. But this wasn’t about chasing another contract or adding more trophies to his collection. He made that clear from the start. When he finally announced his comeback in September 2001, he did so with humility and honesty.
“I am returning as a player to the game I love,” Jordan said at his press conference. “I’m not about the money. I don’t care if I’m paid a single dime; I’ve said that many years. If I can do it, great. If I can’t, great, that’s great too. I just want to play the game of basketball that I love.”
To prove his point, Jordan accepted the NBA’s minimum salary—$1 million—and donated the entire amount to relief efforts for the victims of the September 11 attacks. He had to sell his ownership stake in the Wizards to comply with league rules, sacrificing his executive position and financial interests to follow his heart back to the game.
The Comeback: A Different Kind of Challenge
Jordan’s return was met with a mix of excitement and skepticism. He was 38 years old, years removed from his athletic prime, and joining a team that had finished near the bottom of the league. Critics questioned his motives. Was it ego? Was it a need for attention? Or was it simply the love of the game?
For Jordan, it was never about proving the doubters wrong—it was about proving something to himself. He wanted to see if he could still compete, still inspire, still lead. He wanted to show that greatness isn’t just about winning titles, but about pushing yourself, embracing challenges, and never settling.
From the moment he stepped back onto the court, the NBA was electrified. Wizards games sold out. Jerseys flew off the shelves. The MCI Center (now Capital One Arena) was filled with fans eager to witness history. On the court, Jordan was no longer the high-flying phenom of his youth, but his fundamentals, basketball IQ, and competitive drive remained unmatched.
“Study the king during a game, and so much looks just as it always has,” wrote Sports Illustrated’s Jack McCallum in 2003. “Whenever he goes against a defender he believes he can overpower, he posts up with the same ferocity, hooking his leg over his opponent’s, holding him at bay with his elbows, willing himself to win the scrum that leads to superior position.”
The Results: Mixed, Yet Monumental
The Wizards didn’t become instant contenders. In his two seasons, Jordan averaged 21.2 and 20.0 points per game, remarkable numbers for a player his age. He became the first 40-year-old in NBA history to score over 40 points in a game—something he did twice in his final season. But the team missed the playoffs both years, and Jordan’s body, battered by years of competition, began to show signs of wear and tear.
Critics were quick to pounce. The Village Voice’s Mitch Abramson likened Jordan to “a struggling old prizefighter trying to win back a title.” Even Jordan’s longtime agent, David Falk, admitted, “I just don’t think it was a good dessert to a great meal.”
But to focus solely on wins and losses is to miss the point. Jordan’s return wasn’t about records or championships. It was about passion. It was about love. It was about the need to compete, to inspire, to chase greatness even when the odds are stacked against you.
The Legacy: More Than Just Six Rings
Jordan’s Wizards years are often viewed as a footnote to his legendary Bulls career, but they reveal something deeper about the man behind the myth. He didn’t need more money, more fame, or more accolades. He returned because he couldn’t resist the call of the game. He wanted to show that greatness is about more than just winning—it’s about heart, resilience, and the courage to keep going, even when you have nothing left to prove.
“You can’t take my six championships away, you can’t take all the things that I’ve done as much as you probably want to,” Jordan said in that 2001 press conference. “I just want to play the game of basketball that I love.”
And play he did. He inspired a new generation of fans, mentored young players, and reminded the world why he was, and always will be, the GOAT.
This fall, as Jordan prepares to join NBC Sports as a commentator, his story comes full circle. He’ll be back where he belongs—close to the game, sharing his insights, and inspiring others. Because for Michael Jordan, it was never about the money. It was always about the love of basketball, the thrill of competition, and the pursuit of something greater than himself.
That, in the end, is the real reason he came back. And that’s why his legacy endures.
