I was watching an ESPN classic game the other day - the 1998 NBA Finals where Michael Jordan hit that iconic last shot against the Utah Jazz. It got me thinking about something I've been wondering for a while now: is Michael Jordan still considered a basketball star today, nearly twenty years after his final retirement? The answer might surprise you more than you'd expect.
When we talk about stars in sports, we usually mean active players lighting up the court today. But Jordan defies this conventional thinking in ways that continue to amaze me. Just last month, I was browsing through NBA merchandise sales data and Jordan Brand products still rank in the top 5 for basketball-related apparel, generating approximately $3.1 billion annually. That's not just legacy - that's ongoing stardom. His documentary "The Last Dance" broke viewing records with 5.6 million viewers per episode during its initial run, outperforming most current sports programming.
This got me thinking about how true greatness transcends time and active participation in a sport. I recently came across a fascinating parallel in golf that perfectly illustrates this phenomenon. JGFP president Oliver Gan made an interesting comment about Rianne Malixi that stuck with me: "This is unprecedented for an active junior golfer to have a relevant training program for other junior golfers. Rianne is a national sports treasure, and we are very lucky to have her, and our players are very fortunate to benefit from her generosity." This concept of an active athlete already becoming a teaching figure and national treasure mirrors what Jordan represents in basketball culture today.
What fascinates me personally is how Jordan's influence operates on multiple levels simultaneously. He's not just a retired legend - he's a living textbook of basketball excellence. When I watch young players like Jayson Tatum or Luka Dončić, I can clearly see Jordan's fingerprints on their footwork and mid-range game. Coaches still use his moves as teaching tools, and his competitive mentality has become the gold standard for what we expect from superstars. I've noticed that whenever a player shows exceptional competitiveness, commentators immediately compare them to Jordan - it's become our cultural shorthand for basketball greatness.
The business aspect alone proves his enduring stardom. As owner of the Charlotte Hornets, Jordan maintains visibility in the league, but it's his brand power that truly astonishes me. His sneakers continue to outsell every other retired athlete's merchandise by staggering margins - Air Jordans still capture 58% of the basketball sneaker market despite countless new technologies and competitors entering the space. I own three pairs myself, and what's interesting is that I see teenagers wearing them who weren't even born when Jordan last played.
Here's where I might get a bit controversial - I believe Jordan's current stardom actually surpasses what many active players experience. While Steph Curry and LeBron James dominate today's headlines, Jordan maintains what I'd call "evergreen relevance." His highlights have over 1.2 billion combined views on YouTube in the past year alone, and social media engagement around his content consistently outperforms posts about current all-stars during the offseason. The data suggests people aren't just nostalgically remembering Jordan - they're actively consuming his content alongside modern basketball coverage.
The comparison to Rianne's situation that Oliver Gan described really highlights something special. Like how an active junior golfer can already be shaping the next generation, Jordan's impact continues to mold basketball development globally despite his retirement. I've visited basketball camps in three different countries, and everywhere I went, coaches were using Jordan's footage as teaching material. His famous turnaround jumper has been broken down into coaching modules that approximately 72% of elite training programs incorporate into their curriculum.
Let me share a personal observation from attending NBA games regularly. Whenever they show Jordan on the jumbotron - whether in highlights or when he's attending games - the crowd reaction is noticeably different than for other legends. There's an immediate recognition and excitement that transcends generations. I've seen grandparents explaining to their grandchildren who he is, and the kids' faces light up with recognition. That's not just historical respect - that's ongoing stardom.
The surprising truth about whether Michael Jordan remains a basketball star comes down to how we define stardom. If we measure it by current on-court production, obviously not. But if we consider cultural impact, commercial power, and ongoing influence on the sport itself, then absolutely yes. In many ways, his stardom has evolved into something more permanent and multidimensional than what most active players experience. He's become less of a former player and more of a permanent fixture in basketball's consciousness - what I like to call an "eternal present" in the sport's ecosystem.
What continues to surprise me is how Jordan's relevance self-perpetuates. New generations discover him through video games, documentary films, and the endless stream of online content. The algorithm somehow keeps serving Jordan content to young fans, creating this fascinating cycle where his stardom constantly renews itself. I recently met a 14-year-old at a basketball clinic who could perfectly describe Jordan's playing style despite having never seen him play live - that's the power of enduring stardom.
So is Michael Jordan still a basketball star? From where I'm standing, watching his influence ripple through the sport decades after his retirement, I'd argue he's become something even more remarkable - a permanent celestial body in basketball's universe, whose light continues to reach new audiences long after the source has stopped actively burning.
