Young Black Boy Helps Michael Jordan with Flat Tire—What Happened Next Changed His Life Forever

A cold rain drummed steadily against the rooftops of Chicago’s South Side, washing out the streets long before nightfall. Twelve-year-old Marcus Thompson was hurrying home from the neighborhood basketball courts, the same ones he visited every day after school. The hood of his faded Bulls jacket was pulled over his head, and his sneakers splashed through the deepening puddles. Normally, he tried to practice until the streetlights flickered on. But tonight, the rumbling thunder told him he needed to head back early.

Marcus clutched a basketball under his arm, its worn surface nearly smooth from constant use. It was the last gift he’d received from his Uncle James—his father’s older brother—before Uncle James passed away the previous year. The pain still felt fresh, especially whenever Marcus dribbled that ball or thought about the hours the two of them had spent in the garage. Uncle James was a mechanic who believed everyone should learn how to fix a car, change a tire, and handle basic repairs. Marcus often joked that he’d learned to replace a spark plug before he’d learned to tie his shoes.

He was so lost in memories of those afternoons in the garage that he almost didn’t notice the sleek black car pulled over to the curb on a side street. The car had its hazard lights on, illuminating the rain-slicked pavement in a red-and-orange glow. He heard the distinct hiss of a deflated tire. A tall figure, dressed in a dark coat, was standing under an umbrella, peering down at the rear wheel.

Marcus hesitated. The neighborhood could be tough, and his mother always warned him not to linger outside after dark, especially when he was alone. But then he remembered Uncle James saying, “Sometimes the right thing and the safe thing aren’t the same.” With a steadying breath, Marcus approached the car, figuring at least he could ask if the stranger needed help.

“Excuse me, sir,” he said, raising his voice to be heard above the rain. “Do you need a hand changing that tire?”

The tall man turned. Even in the dim streetlight, Marcus could see a flicker of relief cross the stranger’s face. “I’d appreciate that,” the man replied in a deep, resonant voice. “I’ve got a spare in the trunk, but I don’t have much experience swapping tires.”

Marcus nodded, pushing away the small jolt of apprehension in his gut. “My uncle taught me,” he offered simply. “I can show you.”

They popped the trunk, revealing a neatly arranged set of tools beside a fresh spare tire. Marcus grabbed the jack and the lug wrench, remembering Uncle James’s instructions about stabilizing the car and loosening the lug nuts in a crisscross pattern. Soon, he was kneeling on the wet pavement, carefully positioning the jack beneath the chassis. Meanwhile, the stranger held the umbrella in an effort to keep Marcus (and himself) as dry as possible.

“So how’d you get so handy with cars at your age?” the stranger asked.

Marcus shrugged, keeping his eyes on the tire. “My uncle was a mechanic,” he said softly. “He used to say everyone should know how to fix a flat or handle simple repairs. Said it was just as important as knowing how to shoot a free throw.” He offered a small grin. “Guess he liked basketball and cars about the same.”

The stranger chuckled. “A wise man, your uncle.”

Thunder rumbled overhead, and a flash of lightning lit up the street. For a split second, Marcus caught a clearer look at the man’s face. Something about him was familiar—the strong jaw, the confident posture. But the moment passed before he could make the connection. Instead, he focused on loosening the last lug nut, placing each one carefully into the hubcap so they wouldn’t roll away.

When the tire was finally off, Marcus rolled it aside, then fit the spare onto the wheel studs. He began tightening the lug nuts in the same crisscross pattern, just like Uncle James had taught him. As the car settled back to the pavement, Marcus felt a quiet pride bloom in his chest. He’d done this countless times in the garage, but never on the side of a dark street in pouring rain.

“Thank you, young man,” said the stranger when Marcus finished. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t come along.” He extended his hand. “My name’s Michael. Michael Jordan.”

Marcus froze. He had heard the name, but at first, the reality didn’t register. Everyone in Chicago knew who Michael Jordan was—arguably the greatest basketball player of all time. Marcus stared up, eyes going wide. He finally managed to stammer, “You’re… you’re him.”

Jordan gave a modest shrug, that trademark smile forming on his face. “Just a guy with a flat tire tonight,” he replied gently. “But yeah, I’m him.”

Marcus’s heart hammered. His father had once told him stories about Jordan’s legendary performances. He had watched old highlight reels on YouTube, seen the last-second shots, the championship wins. And here he was, drenched in rain, standing next to that very man.

“You really saved me out here,” Jordan said. “Let me give you a ride home. It’s the least I can do.”

Marcus hesitated, recalling his mom’s warnings about getting into cars with strangers—even famous ones. But this was Michael Jordan. And it was pouring. “Maybe I should call my mom first,” he ventured.

Jordan nodded, waiting patiently while Marcus explained the situation to his mother. She was reluctant at first, but once she realized who was offering the ride, she relented, with the stern warning that Marcus should come straight home. Within a few minutes, Marcus was sitting in Michael Jordan’s luxurious sports car, his basketball tucked under his feet, still trying to convince himself this wasn’t a dream.

The ride to Marcus’s apartment wasn’t long, but Jordan asked him question after question: what position he played, which school he attended, his favorite Bulls memory. Marcus answered in a rush, hardly believing the conversation was even happening. When they finally pulled up to the building, Jordan turned off the engine.

“You’ve got something special, kid,” he said, resting his elbow on the steering wheel. “I can see it in the way you carry yourself. You help people without thinking twice, and you love the game of basketball. That’s a powerful combination.”

Marcus felt heat rise to his cheeks. He glanced down at the worn Bulls logo on his soaked jacket. “I just… wanted to do the right thing.”

Jordan nodded. “It’s about more than just basketball. It’s about character, too. Listen, I’ve been thinking about starting a program for kids on the South Side—something that combines hoops with real-life skills. Mentorship, tutoring, maybe even some mechanical training. I need someone who understands both worlds. How’d you like to be involved?”

Marcus’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Me? But I’m just twelve. I don’t know if—”

Jordan raised a hand to stop him. “Look, I’m not asking you to run the show. But I’d like your input. You can keep learning from good coaches while sharing what you learned in that garage with your uncle. We’ll bring in professional mechanics and educators, but a kid’s perspective matters, too. Especially one who cares enough to change a flat in the rain for a stranger.”

Marcus couldn’t quite find his voice, so he just nodded, swallowing hard. Jordan smiled, took out a business card, and scribbled a personal number on the back. “Call me tomorrow afternoon. There’s an after-school session we can get you into right away.”

By the time Marcus stumbled up the worn stairs to his apartment, the card in his pocket felt like it was pulsing with electricity. His mother was already at the door, eyes wide with both worry and curiosity. She recognized immediately that her son was carrying a story unlike any other. And when Marcus told her what had happened—that he’d met Michael Jordan, helped him change a flat tire, and had just been invited to help shape a youth program—she covered her mouth in astonishment.

Over the next months, everything changed. Twice a week, Marcus attended a special basketball clinic run by one of Jordan’s former coaches. Twice more, he went to an automotive workshop taught by a retired mechanic who had known Uncle James. His grades improved as a tutor gave him personalized lessons, connecting fractions and geometry to basketball stats and wheel alignments. The more he learned, the more he realized that small acts of kindness could ignite opportunities no one could foresee.

Whenever self-doubt crept in—when he wondered why Jordan had chosen him, or when he felt pressured to keep his involvement a secret from classmates—Marcus thought back to the rainy evening that started it all. Uncle James’s life lessons still rang clear: “Cars are like people—you treat them right, they’ll treat you right.” The same went for helping strangers. Little steps, taken with compassion, often led to the biggest doors.

By the time the next season rolled around, Marcus wasn’t just fixing cars or sinking three-point shots—he was also giving advice to other kids Jordan had invited into the program. He showed them how to properly use a lug wrench, how to protect the basketball in a spin move, and how to navigate life’s flat tires with resilience and heart.

And somewhere, Marcus was sure his uncle was smiling, proud that the lessons taught in a tiny garage and on a humble city court had reached farther than either of them could have ever dreamed. After all, sometimes the smallest acts of kindness spark the grandest transformations—and one rainy night on Chicago’s South Side had changed Marcus’s life forever.

Michael Jordan’s Son Marcus Charged with Cocaine Possession, DUI and Resisting Arrest

Marcus, 34, was booked in Orange County, Florida on Tuesday morning

Michael Jordan’s son Marcus was arrested Tuesday and charged with cocaine possession, driving under intoxication and resisting arrest, PEOPLE has confirmed.

The reality star and former college basketball player, 34, was booked in Orange County, Florida on Tuesday, Feb. 4, according to jail records.

Marcus was set on a $4,000 bond for his release.

TMZ was first to report the news of his arrest.

PEOPLE has reached out to representatives for Michael for comment.

Marcus Jordan.Orange County Corrections Dept.

Marcus was most recently seen spending time with Nicole Murphy, the 56-year-old model and ex-wife of Eddie Murphy, in early December after the death of her partner. The two were spotted hanging out at DJ Khaled’s second annual We the Best Foundation x Jordan Golf Classic in Miami, before dancing together and cozying up in a booth at club E11EVEN.

Marcus Jordan on ‘The Traitors’.Euan Cherry/PEACOCK/Getty

The NBA Hall of Famer’s son was one of the stars of Traitors season 2, which aired in early 2024, amid his relationship with Larsa Pippen, the ex-wife of his dad’s former teammate Scottie Pippen. Marcus and Larsa split in July 2024 after spending two years in an on-again, off-again relationship.

Larsa Pippen and Marcus Jordan at iHeartRadio Jingle Ball on December 1, 2023 in Los Angeles, California.River Callaway/Variety/Getty

Larsa told PEOPLE in November that she’s doing “great” and hadn’t been in contact with Marcus since their final split. “I feel like when people break up, it’s like I can love you from a distance.”

“I sleep like a baby and I feel like single life should be appreciated more,” she said.