#18: 1997 – Bulls vs. Jazz (4-2)
Flu or food poisoning? Doesn’t matter. Game 5 was Michael Jordan’s mythical march. Pale, drenched, barely upright—he still dropped 38 on Utah, including the go-ahead three. The Jazz were legit: Stockton’s vision, Malone’s power, a deafening Delta Center. But MJ had destiny.

Every game was tight, ugly, and tense. Pippen played Robin to perfection. Kerr nailed the Game 6 clincher. And while Utah pushed hard, it was clear—the Bulls had Jordan, and Jordan had no equals. This was the Finals that proved it: greatness isn’t always about feeling good—it’s about rising when your body screams “no.”