Who Was He And Who Are We To Judge?
Days before the The Last Dance first aired, sports columnist Skip Bayless shared an anecdote about a hero and a then lesser known villain:
I was walking with Michael in a pro-am golf tournament… on a par five, he hit his tee shot into a fairway bunker, and asked his caddy for a three-wood. To try and hit a three-wood out of a fairway bunker is a really hard golf-shot. And I said to him, 'Michael, that’s a tough one.' And Michael said to me, 'No, it’s not tough. I’ll just imagine that the ball is Jerry Krause’s face.' Michael nailed the shot, and almost made it within two shots to the green.
With the first episode of The Last Dance, many were introduced to Krause as a villain, and sure, there are cringey facts and quotes about and from Krause. But someone who seems to have been a verbal punching bag in life becomes an even easier target in death.
Maybe you’ve tried to find interviews of Krause, but there aren’t many. Maybe you’ve found that his family is periodically sharing excerpts from his unfinished memoir, but thus far, those haven’t addressed the history-altering, glimpses-of-greatness-depriving question/accusation: Jerry Krause blew up the greatest basketball team ever assembled, before he needed to?
Jordan-era Bulls’ player Toni Kukoc feels the documentary should paint a fuller picture, but how do we go about that when the dominant narrative is one where Krause is simply the villain (which is admittedly easy when he had the audacity to dance like this)?
To try and approach a more complex truth, let’s take a claim against Krause and juxtapose it with counterclaims.
Claim #1: Krause Destroyed The Jordan-Era Bulls
Before the 97-98 season, Krause informed Jackson that “you can go 82-0 next year and I ain’t bringin’ you back.” Jordan declared that “if Jackson goes, I go” (Bayless).
Some use this to blame Krause for depriving us of a seventh Bulls’ championship.
Counterclaim #1: Jackson Had Already Initiated The Destruction
Sam Smith, the Chicago-based journalist most famous for his book The Jordan Rules, explained that Jackson held a philosophy around coaching that “your voice [as a coach] dimmed and diminished... after seven years” and that Jackson “toyed with leaving... after ‘95-’96, since that was seven years. [Jackson] was ready for his sabbatical.” Before any caustic language from Krause, Jackson wanted out.
Smith continued: “what was left unsaid [in the documentary], was when they met in the summer of ‘97... Phil had an opportunity to sign a long term deal [that] included staying around for rebuilding… he wanted no part of that.” Regardless of Krause's displeasure, Jackson had already decided to leave.
That’s not the narrative the documentary sells: according to Smith, Jackson “always needed a story line; they’re all against us. [They] want to break us up. Let’s show them. Phil used it to his advantage.” The “us-against-them” narrative served as a rallying cry, a rallying quest narrative. Every quest needs its embodiment of evil, and Krause fit that role.
Jackson's representatives deny Jackson had the chance to come back, explaining that “even if the owner... wanted to bring him back, Krause wouldn’t let him,” but in what world does the owner answer to the GM?
Claim #2: Krause’s Need For The Spotlight Validates His Villainous Portrayal
Krause infamously claimed “organizations win championships,” emphasizing his role in the dynasty; Jordan famously replied, “I didn’t see organizations playing with the Flu in Utah.” Of course this would drive a wedge between players and management.
When interviewed, Krause stated “his dream was to win a championship without Michael.” Of course this would drive a wedge between players and management.
Krause is also the guy who, after finally overcoming the Pistons on the way to their first title, danced on the flight home as though he'd sunk the game winning shot. Sam Smith acknowledged that “that’s the players’ celebration. Get out of there... You can’t be one of the guys if you’re the guy’s boss. He could never get past that.”
In each case, there’s a desire to be seen, and a desire to be seen as great, in an alienating manner.
Counterclaim #2: But Is He Right?
Kukoc said it: “Jerry built the six-time champions. You have to give him credit."
David Falk, Jordan's former agent, disagrees, pointing out that Krause “made a lot of terrible mistakes in the draft because he was always shooting for the longshots. He didn’t want to take the player everyone had taken because he wouldn’t [have] got the credit. His personality interfered with his judgment.”
Maybe Falk is still on Jordan’s payroll. Yes, Jordan was there before Krause was, but Jordan admitted Oakley (Krause's signing) was what the team needed, and Pippen is Pippen (again, Krause's signing); when you evaluate Krause’s later signings, it’s hard to pretend Krause’s judgment, even with ego-interference, was anything other than great. After Jordan’s departure following the first three-peat, Krause helped accomplish the following:
Along with the King/Longley swap, the team replaced 33-year-old Trent Tucker, 31-year-old Rodney McCray, and 31-year-old Darrell Walker with the 25-year-old Kukoc, 28-year-old Kerr, and 30-year-old Wennington. ( READJACK.com )
Krause is also responsible for taking a chance on Dennis Rodman in ‘95; hindsight says this didn’t take much insight, but if you review his time in San Antonio, the risk becomes apparent.
Ultimately, players win games, and of course you shouldn't publicly emphasize that organizations win titles. But finding the right supporting cast with both the talent to compete at the highest level, while also lacking the ego that often follows such a level of skill, that's a pretty big task.
Claim #3: Krause’s Actions Poisoned The Dynasty
The documentary tells us Krause forbade Jordan from playing more than seven minutes a game after recovering from injury; Krause threatened to fire coach Collins if he exceeded this allotment. It seemed Krause and Reinsdorf wanted to intentionally lose, thus earning a better draft. Instead, Krause lost Jordan's respect.
We’re told Krause not only kept Pippen on a bad contract, but used Pippen as bait for trades, creating anxiety for the team's second best player.
We’re told Krause was willing to blow up the team if it meant Jackson was gone.
Counterclaim #3: Krause Prioritized Long-Term Success
In an alternate reality, Jordan plays as long as he wants in his first game back from injury. He re-injures the foot, and maybe his airness never really takes flight, and maybe we’re all mad at Jerry Krause for a different reason.
Also, how do you prove that throwing games is Krause's call, and not the owner's?
While Krause certainly mistreated Pippen, the documentary deemphasizes the following: in ‘95, Jackson was willing to let “loose every player from the first three-peat, including Pippen;” and when Pippen saw money saved to sign Kukoc that could have gone to improving Pippen's salary, Reinsdorf could have intervened; and during Jordan’s first retirement, when Pippen stepped up and led, Jackson decided Kukoc, not Pippen, should take a game winning shot; and while Reinsdorf urged Pippen not to sign Krause's crap deal, later, Reinsdorf refused to renegotiate.
The dead make good scapegoats, especially when they clearly bear some guilt.
Finally, what led Krause from lifting Phil Jackson from relative obscurity to hating him? Consider the rest of Bayless’ anecdote: “Phil would openly ridicule little Jerry Krause in front of everybody.” What boss wouldn't want an employee who openly mocks him in front of others to leave, especially if that employee had already decided to leave, but pretended he was pushed out?
Krause undeniably craved respect, and Krause undeniably lacked grace, but these flaws have punched a hole into popular discourse, and memory of the good fast flies through; this black hole in popular memory coheres with our popular imagination: in contrast to the chiseled athletes around him, Krause looks the part of the slovenly villain; in contrast to the Zen buddhist coach who oozes cool, Krause looks the part of the graceless villain. He’s offended our cultural heroes, so he must fit neatly into the narrative coaxed once more into popularity by this new documentary.
In the 1987 draft, Jordan demanded that the Bulls draft Duke's Johnny Dawkins. In response to Jordan's demand, Krause replied, “'You're Bulls property now, and we tell you what to do, '" justifying some of the Krause hate. However, in 2017, Krause either lied, or he forgot Jordan's demand: “I’ll say this about [Jordan vs. LeBron], he...never came to me and asked me to draft a player.” Whether Krause lied or forgot, favoring Jordan over LeBron likely serves to preserve his connection to greatness, to the greatest, because Krause then shares in that narrative. If MJ is the greatest, then Krause is associated with not just greatness, but the greatest, a legacy he undeniably helped build, and deniably helped destroy.
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