IT'S HANG TIME FOR MICHAEL JORDAN

In a time of corporate cutbacks and an uncertain economy, a man quitting a good-paying job is news. Maybe that's why networks interrupted their normal programming Wednesday to watch one man give notice to the Chicago Bulls.

OK, it was probably a bit more than that. Michael Jordan stood as something more than a typical working man; in fact, he was what most working man aspire to: athletic, handsome, graceful, articulate, steely under pressure ... casual enough to host "Saturday Night Live" yet intense enough to captain championship teams.

Best of all, he parlayed these charismatic attributes into wealth beyond most dreams, which is probably enough reason to envy the guy were it not for the other traits.

At 30, Michael Jordan calls it quits, more than half a fistful of title rings in his possession and a financial portfolio almost as expansive as his NBA records. If he never tosses another basketball competitively, he can still make millions (far more than the Bulls pay him) selling underwear, Gatorade, Big Macs and athletic shoes.

Nothing exceeds like excess, and there is hardly a night that passes when Michael isn't on the television persuading America to eat, drink, walk and relax the way he does.

Be like Mike, indeed.

The pitch has nothing to do with how snug your briefs are or how hefty the sandwich is; rather, it amounts to how much the person at home watching the tube identifies with a former University of North Carolina geography major who put his college skills to work scoring 30 points a game.

A great many people connect, and that's why Jordan transcended sports in a way few other gifted athletes have. It takes much more than mere natural gifts to become a global icon. (Surveys are released from time to time showing Michael among the world's most recognizable persons, usually running one-two with the pope. You don't compete with the pontiff on hang time alone.)

There's no doubt that becoming and remaining a phenomenon requires careful maintenance, and Jordan had some shrewd handlers along the way. But something innate exists in Michael that propels the popularity. Think of it this way: Were you composing in theory the ideal mass-consumption hero, would you provide him a hairless scalp and a tongue that hangs out when he does his work?

While advisers had their say with Jordan, Madison Avenue did not create him. His style was self-developed, and in times when hype was most intense, some rural North Carolinian showed through. Maybe that was the key.

Then, there is the race thing, or lack of it. It was often said that Joe Dimaggio did more to dispel the prejudices about Italians than any anti-defamation group could. The same can be said of Michael, who makes a legion of fans properly color-blind. White boys across this nation beam at the chance to wear a Bulls 32 jersey or Nike Jordans. There has been no color barrier in his dealings with the public, nor a gender barrier, nor an age barrier. The first requisite of a phenomenon is not to limit your appeal. Michael hasn't.

And that weighed heavily on him. Ultimately, Jordan's story became one not of how celebrity corrupts but of how celebrity dulls. The model for anyone who would "be like Mike" had plenty of days when he wanted to be like anyone else ... to have a meal at McDonald's, to spend a day at home and not have strangers gawk at the house, sometimes even ring the doorbell seeking autographs, to travel without security personnel, to let down his guard in conversation and not worry how it might appear in the press.

While there's no doubt the soul-selling was an amicable arrangement, the commerce of which would stagger most imaginations, even Michael Jordan must have been eventually worn down by the tremendous pressure of being Michael Jordan.

No one ever seems to go broke these days selling books (or cassettes or videotapes or seminars) about the pursuit of excellence, about striving to be the best. No book is definitively written, however, on how properly to remain the best, how to sustain, once you've reached the mountaintop, the frame of mind necessary for the pursuit.

If you're Michael Jordan, and looking down from the mountaintop (way far down, in his case), you see another season of dragging up and down the court Reggie Miller and John Starks and every other wanna-be from lesser summits, all for ... what? You're already acknowledged as the best, already with more money than can be reasonably spent.

How does the multi-millionaire with nothing left to prove make himself run the same wind sprints he did as a rookie?

The answer is, he doesn't. He hangs them up.

Ken Newton is editor of the Southeast Missourian.