An Open Letter To Michael Jordans Everywhere

To All Michael Jordans of the Universe:

Y’all know me. I am not just a great basketball player. For a fifteen year span, I was the greatest basketball player of this and various unexplored solar systems. I am the reason basketball matters to dudes in Shanghai who can’t play any good to save their souls (yeah, I’m singling someone out, but let’s not directly discuss the Ao-Yay Ing-May).

I am calling upon you because I have been very disturbed about some recent news. I need to give a very important message:

Stop trying to ruin my good name.

All y’all Michael Jordan types are getting into some serious trouble lately, and it’s wrecking my reputation. All the time, people are asking me, “hey MJ, was that you who did a bad thing on the news?” and before I can defend myself, they say “Shame on you! You’re a terrible, terrible person. Now sign my Bulls jersey so I can sell it on eBay and I can finally pay someone to lose my virginity.” I’m sick of this. Being Michael Jordan, I’m busy enough trying to dodge bullets and bookies as is.

I’ve been keeping quiet about these kinds of stories, but this cracker is the last straw. Apparently some dude named Michael Jordan in South Carolina was caught fleeing for the Canadian border with $2.35 million from his clients. All day I’ve been getting phone calls and threats about that s—. Do I look like a lawyer to you, mo’fo’? I may be a slick endorser of shoes and undergarments that I never wear, but that doesn’t make me a lawyer! (By the way, you will never see me wear a Hanes in public until they let me plug my limited edition leopard skin man-thongs. It looks like those corporate geezers may be finally gettin’ with the times, but that topic is for another day.)

I simply cannot take this anymore. You Michael Jordans make me sick. That dude fleeing for Canada? That wasn’t me. The guy threatening a 40-year old Vietnamese woman in a Nike sweatshop? Not me. The MJ who bet $500,000 for the Spurs in Game 3 against the Suns “on a hunch”? Not me. The dude who played for the Wizards those two years? Definitely a fake. And don’t even get me started on that impostor who drafted those punks Kwame Brown and Adam Morrison. But the guy bumpin’ and grindin’ that cute white chick in Cabo? That was definitely me, ‘cuz I’m a player like that.

Anyway, my point is, before you plan on even getting out of your goddamn house: call my lawyer and tell him what you’re doing 24/7. You will be sorry if you don’t. Because If ANY of you dudes slip up again, I am comin’ to your house. I will raid your fridge, bust your plasma screen, and bling myself out with your wife’s jewelry. Then I’ll wait for you to come home and kick you between the legs so hard, your kids will be sterile. Don’t think I won’t do it either. I got a short fuse and a black belt in bust-yo-ass.

So remember to watch your back, have a fantastic day, and tell your kids to stay in school.

Sincerely,

His Airness, The One True Michael Jordan