"I expect you to motivate me" - Doug Collins says Michael Jordan didn't want to be treated like an old guy when he returned to the NBA in 2001 originally appeared on Basketball Network .
Michael Jordan's 2001 return to the NBA would never be a quiet affair.
The man who had become synonymous with winning, with grit, with the kind of edge that defined basketball's golden age wasn't stepping back on the court to wave at fans or do farewell laps.
He came back to compete, plain and simple. And for Doug Collins, the man who had once coached a young, spry Jordan for the Chicago Bulls , was now tasked with guiding a seasoned, 38-year-old version on the Washington Wizards .
The message couldn't have been clearer. Jordan didn't want allowances.
During training camp ahead of Jordan's return, Collins was in awe of how committed the six-time champion was to playing at a high level, albeit not seeing any competitive action in three years or so.
"He looked at me and he goes, 'I expect you to motivate me to get to run that extra line and do those extra things,'" Collins said. "He said , 'I'm 38 years old now and maybe things that would have come easier for me before, I'm gonna need you to push me a little bit.' So I felt very good that he wants exceptionally hard every day."
Collins had seen Jordan from the beginning, back when the Bulls were still a team in transition, and the kid from North Carolina was just tapping into the kind of competitive madness that would define a generation.
Nearly two decades later, Collins was now stepping into a Wizards franchise that hadn't made the playoffs since 1997. It was a team low on direction but suddenly heavy with expectations.
Because Jordan was back.
That's the difference between legacy and longevity. Some players stretch their careers out, content to coast on past glories. The Bulls icon decided that if he was lacing up again, then it would be with the same fury and purpose that marked his rise in the '80s. He had nothing left to prove to the game but always something to prove to himself.
That tone set the stage for a remarkable, if often overlooked, stretch in Jordan's career. In his first season back, he played 60 games and averaged 22.9 points, 5.7 rebounds and 5.2 assists per game. Those aren't token stats but numbers that still carried the weight of All-Star consideration, and they came after three full years away from the league and two previous retirements.
Collins, hired ahead of the 2001–02 season, walked into a legacy reboot. Alongside Jordan came another familiar face from the Bulls' wars—Charles Oakley, an enforcer and presence who knew exactly what Jordan's standards were.
The Wizards were being rebuilt in spirit as much as roster, with Collins as the thread connecting past glory to a present gamble.
If anyone understood how Jordan evolved, it was Collins. He'd seen the raw, relentless rookie who once dropped 63 points on the Boston Celtics in the playoffs and refused to celebrate because they still lost the game. And now, in Washington, he was watching a man still possessed by the same internal fire only now channeled with the wisdom and battle scars of time.
"The one thing about Michael Jordan is you don't have to motivate him," Collins said. "This is one of the most self-driven human beings I've ever been around my entire life."
And it showed.
Even in a body slowed by time, with knees that had absorbed decades of physical warfare, Jordan's mindset remained untouched. The Wizards didn't become title contenders overnight, but they transformed in culture. For the first time in years, Washington had purpose, discipline, and a north star who refused to make excuses for age or circumstance.
In his second and final season with the Wizards, Jordan played all 82 games, becoming, at age 40, the oldest player in NBA history to average over 20 points per game. That wasn't just about athleticism but the intention to play. Few stars bow out while still capable of outscoring players nearly half their age.
But then again, few stars were Jordan.
Collins' role in all of this was never to tame Jordan nor to celebrate him. It was to sharpen him again. Just as he'd done in the '80s when Jordan was ascending, Collins was now responsible for ensuring the twilight didn't turn soft.
For two seasons, he got a front-row seat to one of sport's most quietly defiant chapters.
This story was originally reported by Basketball Network on Jun 29, 2025, where it first appeared.
