Michael Jordan Sees an Elderly Man Cleaning His Statue at Night—What He Does Next Is Unbelievable

Michael Jordan Sees an Elderly Man Cleaning His Statue at Night—What He Does Next Is Unbelievable

It was a quiet night in Chicago, and Michael Jordan, at 58, found himself restless. The weight of past championships and the constant bustle of life couldn’t quiet his mind. Tonight felt different, though. Something pulled at him, a subtle pull that led him to the one place he never expected to visit again—the United Center.

Slipping on jeans and a black hoodie, Jordan left his home, telling himself it was just a drive to clear his mind. The streets were peaceful, lit only by the flickering street lamps. He didn’t have a destination in mind, but before he knew it, his car was parked across from the United Center. There, standing in the shadow of his iconic bronze statue, was a figure that would change his life forever.

An elderly man, dressed in a weathered Chicago Bulls jacket, stood carefully cleaning the statue. It wasn’t the usual groundskeeper; this was a man with a bucket of supplies, treating the statue with an odd intimacy, as though it were a piece of his own soul. He moved slowly, his body unsteady, but his hands were meticulous, wiping away every smudge, every mark left by the world. As he worked, he muttered to the statue, as if sharing a quiet conversation, his voice barely audible in the night.

Jordan’s curiosity got the best of him. Pulling his hood up to remain unnoticed, he quietly crossed the street, staying in the shadows. The elderly man didn’t notice him at first, lost in his task. The closer Jordan got, the more he could see the man’s wrinkled face—determined, yet filled with signs of age. The man spoke, his voice a soft murmur, “The greatest player ever, got to keep you looking sharp.”

Jordan’s heart tightened. He couldn’t just walk away. “You’re doing a good job,” he said, his voice cutting through the quiet.

The old man jumped, nearly falling backward. When he saw who had spoken, his face went white with shock. “Mr. Jordan, I—I wasn’t doing anything wrong,” he stammered, scrambling to pick up his cleaning cloth. “I just… I come here sometimes.”

“It’s okay,” Jordan reassured him, stepping forward. “I’m not security or anything. I was just driving by.”

The old man stared at him, his mouth agape. “I can’t believe it’s really you.” He sat down on a nearby bench, still dazed. “I’ve been cleaning your statue for years. Twice a month, at least.”

“Years?” Jordan sat beside him. “Why?”

The old man shrugged, his hands trembling. “Birds make a mess, weather leaves dirt… Fans touch it too much in one spot. I can’t help it. The greatest player ever should look his best.”

Jordan looked at him, his heart growing heavy. This man had been quietly taking care of something so many took for granted. “What’s your name?” Jordan asked.

“Walter Hayes,” the man replied. “I coached basketball and taught math at Westside Community High for almost 40 years.”

“Do you work for the United Center?” Jordan asked.

“No, sir,” Walter shook his head. “I’m just a fan. Been watching the Bulls since they weren’t much of anything.”

The two sat in silence for a moment, letting the quiet of the night surround them. A security guard appeared in the distance, flashlight in hand. Jordan waved, signaling that everything was fine, and the guard disappeared.

Walter seemed to relax. “They sometimes shoe me away, but I don’t bother anyone.”

Jordan nodded. He had seen enough. “You’ve been doing this for years. You’ve earned more than just thanks.”

Walter smiled, but it was tinged with sadness. “I’ve spent my life giving to others. I’m just an old man now.”

Jordan’s heart clenched as Walter fumbled with a small pill box. “You okay?” Jordan asked, noticing his hands tremble.

“Just old age,” Walter said, shaking his head. “I’ve had trouble with circulation. The doctors have me on all kinds of things.”

Jordan couldn’t let the night end like this. “Let me buy you some coffee,” he said, offering his help.

Walter hesitated, then nodded. “I’d like that.”

They walked to a nearby diner, a small, unassuming place with a few patrons still lingering. Jordan didn’t mind the quiet, the anonymity of it. It felt like this was exactly where they needed to be.

Over coffee and toast, Walter shared stories about his life, his years teaching and coaching, his love for the game. He spoke of his son, Bobby, who had been a huge fan of Jordan and the Bulls. But when the conversation shifted to his wife, Eleanor, the room grew somber. Walter’s voice faltered as he explained that she had passed three years ago.

Jordan listened quietly, allowing Walter to speak at his own pace. He could see the weight of loss in Walter’s eyes, the loneliness that came from a lifetime of giving to others, only to be left with memories.

“Do you have family?” Jordan asked gently.

Walter shook his head. “Not anymore.”

After dinner, Jordan insisted on driving Walter home. He knew Walter’s apartment was far from ideal, but he didn’t want to press the matter further. When they reached the building, Walter seemed too tired to protest. He invited Jordan inside, where he shared photos of his son, Bobby, and his time coaching at Westside.

Walter spoke of his son with such pride, his voice growing soft with love. Jordan noticed a worn-out Bulls ticket stub on the wall, a reminder of the last game Walter and Bobby had attended together.

“Bobby would’ve loved all this,” Walter said, gesturing to the memorabilia and photos. “This statue, the center you want to build. He always said you were more than just a basketball player. He saw something in you that no one else did.”

Jordan felt a lump in his throat as Walter’s words hung in the air. For all the fans who revered him, it was clear that the connection with Walter went beyond basketball. It was about honoring the people who had shaped his life—especially those who had given so much and asked for nothing in return.

The next day, Jordan began working on a plan to honor Walter’s legacy. He contacted his friends, former players, and the Bulls’ community foundation. He made sure Walter’s future would be secure, arranging for a Youth Development Center in Walter’s name at Westside High. The center would offer not only basketball coaching but life lessons, mentorship, and a safe place for students to grow.

Months later, as construction for the Walter and Bobby Hayes Youth Development Center began, Walter stood at the groundbreaking ceremony, looking more alive than he had in years. Surrounded by former students, friends, and the people who loved him, Walter stood tall, his pride radiating. He had a purpose again.

Jordan, standing by his side, watched Walter as he took in the sight of the new gym and the future that was unfolding. It was clear that this was exactly where Walter belonged—among the young people who would benefit from his wisdom, his dedication, and his love for the game.

As the ribbon was cut, Walter’s voice rang out, not as a coach who had lost his way, but as a man who had found his purpose once more.

“I’ll be ready,” Walter said, smiling. “These kids need me.”

And in that moment, Jordan knew that it was more than just basketball. It was about changing lives, just as Walter had done for so many before. And it all began with a quiet act of kindness—an elderly man cleaning a statue late at night, and a legend who noticed.

Michael Jordan statue outside United Center may be moved indoors

The Chicago Bulls and Blackhawks are looking to renovate the area around the United Center with a new office building being added next to the stadium, and it may require moving an iconic landmark indoors.

Michael Jordan statue outside United Center may be moved indoors

The statue of Bulls superstar Michael Jordan currently sits in Lot H and can draw quite a crowd even when the team is not playing.

Sports Figures With Their Own Statues

John Chaney

Michael Perez/AP

Former Temple basketball coach John Chaney, who led his Owls to five Elite Eight appearances, was honored with a statue in his image in February 2014. Here are some others who’ve been so honored, along with a link here and on the last frame to a related gallery of college football icons with statues.