WASHINGTON, May 1: The American Capital had an imperial visitor Wednesday night. No, it wasn't Queen Elizabeth or Boris Yeltsin or Jiang Zemin. It was the man they call His Airness Michael Jordan, the basket ball superstar who has carried the game to stratospheric heights and who is now universally acclaimed as the greatest hoopster to lay a hand on the ball.

Indeed, some magazine surveys claim that he is now the most recognisable face on the planet. He certainly is among the richest his contract to play on next season for his home team Chicago Bulls is worth $ 30 million (about Rs 110 crores). And that's just the bread. The undisclosed fixings (endorsements, commercials etc) add up to the real meal.

But it is wealth well earned and richly deserved.

In an intense team sport with many superstars, Jordan defines greatness. We in the cricketing world who see a Tendulkar or a Lara carry a team in one game out of five, should watch His Majesty Jordan. He does it day after day, in about 90 games in the six months the National Basketball Association (NBA) season lasts.

In a taxing, brutal, physical game studies show basketball to be the most energy expending game that's about game every second day (and the ninnies complain about `too much cricket'). He averages about 30 points a game.

Most other players would count that as their best. Sometimes best ever. By NBA standards where seven footers are common he is modestly built: a mere 6 feet 6 inches with a trademark bald pate and an earring. But what is striking is his lean muscle mass. Lithe and supple, he is an epitome of grace and strength. When he soars into the air (therefore, His Airness and thence a shoe named after him Nike's Air Jordan) to dunk hard or sink softly, American's best sportswriters break into poetry. Because they have exhausted all superlatives, they invent new ones. Fans experience ecstasy. His singular greatness has led Chicago Bulls to four NBA titles (which the Americans call the World Championship, and judging by the standard of play, who can blame them...) in six years with a fifth on the way this year. He led the Bulls to back-to-back titles in 1991, 1992, 1993. He got so bored with having attained everything he wanted, that he quit in 1994 and took to baseball. NBA receipts and viewership dropped immediately. He returned and led the Bulls to their fourth title in 1996.

There are so many indices to measure his greatness that its hard to begin. For one, in NBA play-off matches, he has scored more than 50 points in a game about a dozen times. No, let's pick this: When he returned to the game in 1995, a player from a rival team taunted that he had slowed down and that ``jersey number 45 was not as good as 23'' (he had changed his jersey number). So in the clash against that team, Jordan scored 45 points, smiled disarmingly at the player, and retired from the game. Point made.

His poor Chicago Bulls teammates fine players all suffer in comparison. But they understand. How would it be if you had God playing on your side? Even on an off day, he makes about 25 points a game, more than any other player. When he is hot, like he was last Sunday when he played Washington Bullets, he sank 55 of his team's 109 points. He apologised to his team mates.

Rival teams plot endlessly to contain him. Usually they `double team' him. That is, put a couple of monsters to try and block him. When they do that effectively, he is a cunning playmaker with brilliant passing ability who makes use of the other four mortal teammates who are relatively free. On a day they are shooting badly, he will simply take on the burden himself, evading his markers like some Houdini. The fear among many of his fans is if he goes on doing it, some day one of his rivals will mace him, mug him or shoot him in the leg. That appears to be the only way to contain him. Anyway, coming back to his Washington visit. It wasn't the first time he was coming here. He played here last month when the Chicago Bulls met the local Washington Bullets in a league match. Just before tip off, the band struck ``Hail to the Chief''. Poor Bill Clinton, who had come to see the match, thought it was for him.

May be Jordan realised the Prez was in the crowd, he went on to provide a treat that day. The Bullets, a raw, immensely talented team, led by 18 points with about ten minutes to go. Jordan single-handedly erased the deficit and stole the match, scoring all 18 for a total of 36. After the match, Clinton was walking out when he saw a gaggle of reporters near the dressing room. He stopped hopefully. No one paid him any attention. All they wanted was a quote from His Airness.

But Wednesday night was special. After nine long years, the Bullets have made it to be NBA play-off (the knockout stage). Unfortunately, their first opponents were the Bulls. The Bulls beat them in the first two games in Chicago last week to take a 2-0 lead in the five-game series, the Bullets and the fans wanted badly to win for sentimental reasons. Next season, they are going to change their name (to Washington Wizards) and move to a new stadium.

It seemed as if all the Washington was at the US Air arena. Tickets were going for $ 200. Clinton watched on TV (because of his knee injury), but Al Gore was there. And everyone else who mattered in the city. The 25,000 crowd was one with Bullets. They booed and hissed every time His Majesty touched the ball. The Bullets played their hearts out. They led 90-81 with three minutes to go.

Then it happened. Final score Bulls 96, Bullets 95. Many people had tears in their eyes. One of them said: ``I don't know if it is because the Bullets lost or because I saw God play.''

Copyright © 1997 Indian Express Newspapers (Bombay) Ltd.