The Night Michael Jordan Redefined “Playing Through It”

In the long history of championship moments, few performances have been dissected, debated, and mythologized like Michael Jordan’s Game 5 showing in the 1997 NBA Finals—forever known as the Flu Game.

The series between the Bulls and the Utah Jazz was tied 2–2, with momentum shifting nightly. Game 5, played in Salt Lake City, was widely viewed as the pivot point. The winner would take control of the series heading back to Chicago. For Jordan, that pressure was compounded by illness so severe that team staff questioned whether he could safely take the floor.

According to those close to the team, Jordan had barely slept the night before. He was visibly pale, severely dehydrated, and lacked his usual explosive energy during warmups. Yet once the game began, it was clear that this would not be a typical Jordan performance built on athletic dominance. Instead, it became a masterclass in willpower and situational brilliance.

Jordan finished with 38 points, 7 rebounds, and 5 assists, but the raw numbers only tell part of the story. He picked his spots carefully, conserving energy when possible and striking decisively when the Bulls needed him most. His three-pointer with under 30 seconds remaining gave Chicago a late lead and effectively silenced the arena.

Perhaps the most enduring image from the night came after the final buzzer. Exhausted and barely able to stand, Jordan leaned heavily on Scottie Pippen as they walked off the court together—a rare visual of vulnerability from a player so often associated with invincibility.

The Bulls won 90–88 and carried that momentum to a championship two games later, securing their fifth title in seven seasons. In retrospect, Game 5 stands as the emotional centerpiece of that run. It reinforced Jordan’s reputation not just as the most skilled player of his era, but as its most relentless competitor.

Years later, Jordan suggested food poisoning—not the flu—was the likely cause of his condition. The clarification changed the diagnosis, but not the legacy. What matters is that when the season hung in the balance, Jordan played through extreme physical distress and delivered when it mattered most.

For collectors, this moment adds depth to every late-1990s Bulls-era Jordan card. These cards represent more than peak-market dominance; they anchor stories of resilience, leadership, and competitive resolve. That narrative power is why certain cards never fade from relevance—no matter how many new stars emerge.

The Flu Game endures because it captures something timeless in sports: greatness is not always about perfection. Sometimes, it is about showing up diminished—and still finding a way to win.

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