<div class="quote_poster">Quote:</div><div class="quote_post">"Hey, Lou," says George Lewis, a Chicago cop and 1983 graduate of Leo High School. "You hear he wanted to rope off a section for 20 people?" "Who?" says Lou -- that's Lou Topps, a Chicago AAU coach whose son, Antonio, plays for Leo. "Jordan," Lewis says. That would be Michael Jordan. "Aw," Topps groans. "Twenty people? He's only got one ass!" There was a time, of course, when Chicago was Jordan's domain, when his hoops heroics pushed the pulse of the city. To an extent, this still is his town -- any Chicago restaurant would shoo out its finest regulars to accommodate M.J. But not here at Leo, deep in Chicago's South Side on a Friday night in a tiny gym with about 1,000 fans packed thigh to thigh on the school's slender bleachers. There are no roped-off sections. Here, Jordan is with the rest of us, leaning on a railing in the upper stands, wearing jeans and a brown blazer. Sure, Jordan is the only one in the place sporting earrings that are visible from 30 yards away, and he's the only one drawing gawkers. But in this gym, it's hot, it's loud and, even if you're a Chicago sports icon, it's 5 bucks to get in. Jordan has two teenage sons on the visiting team -- undefeated Loyola Academy, the small Jesuit school in Chicago's north suburbs that, last week, displaced Simeon as the state's top-ranked team. Jeff Jordan is Loyola's senior point guard; Marcus is a sophomore sixth man. Their dad, flanked by security, does not miss a game. Jordan is elusive in Chicago these days, but any local seeking a Jordan glimpse needs only a copy of the Ramblers' schedule. You also might catch former Bears running back Matt Suhey, whose son, Joe, plays for Loyola. As does Rob Wennington, son of former Bull Bill Wennington, though Rob is a freshman who plays on the junior varsity. The Jordan boys are, of course, good players. Jeff is 6-1 and athletic, a solid point guard but better on the wing. Coach Bryan Tucker praises Jeff's leadership, and from the first moments of the Leo game, that leadership is evident. The Lions fluster Loyola early with fullcourt pressure, but Jeff responds by driving to the basket and getting to the free throw line. He attempts eight free throws in the first half. "How many times are they gonna put that kid on the line?" Topps wonders. "It's them Jordan rules, Lou. They're alive and well," Lewis says. This is nothing new for Jeff Jordan. He hears heckling in every gym Loyola visits and has been dealing with the pressure of his basketball ancestry since the Chicago Sun-Times splayed him on the front of its sports section five years ago. He scored 23 points in his varsity debut, which ramped up interest in his career. "They are loud here,"Jeff says. "But in that situation, if things are not going well, you have to take the ball to the basket and get to the free throw line. That's all I was trying to do." Marcus has had it easier -- Jeff dealt with the initial media glare, and now it has eased. Marcus is taller (6-3) and has a bigger build than his brother, but their styles evoke memories of Pops: good ballhandling, an eye for passing and great athleticism. They have an on-court rapport that has been honed over years in the back yard and in postgame conversations with their father. Their specialty is the backdoor alley-oop, Marcus to Jeff. </div> Source
