CHICAGO - This is no Bull. Michael Jordan is serious about a baseball career.
Can the world's greatest basketball player switch sports and hit the curve like he used to hit the jumper?
Jordan, for nine seasons the heart and soul of the Chicago Bulls, is trying to answer that four months after his stunning retirement from the NBA.
Ron Schueler, the Chicago White Sox general manager, has invited the media to watch Jordan work out Monday at the Keating Sports Center at Illinois Institute of Technology.
"From the beginning, we've promised them a day with Michael. That's all this is," says Schueler.
Jordan, a three-time league MVP and the Bulls' career scoring leader with 21,541 points, has attracted more skeptics than believers since it became clear he's bent on playing baseball.
"The normal thing for Mike to do is what people say he's not going to do," says Jerry Reinsdorf, chairman of both the Bulls and White Sox.
For the past few months, Jordan has been working out five days a week at Comiskey Park, taking as many as 600 to 1,000 cuts a day in the batting cage.
"I can see a bunch of progress," Schueler says. "His swing is getting much tighter. But, of course, things change once you get outside. It's a lot different than hitting in the batting cage."
Jordan, an outfield hopeful, also has been put through defensive drills.
"From basketball, he has a quick first step and gets a good jump on the ball," Schueler says. "He's got some arm strength and we know he can run.
"What I've got to determine is whether he has enough to get an invite (to spring training) and be productive."
But Schueler says more evaluation is necessary: "We expect to know something early in the week."
If Jordan does go to camp he'll wear No. 45. It's not the No. 23 he wore with the Bulls - that belongs to Gold Glove third baseman Robin Ventura - but neither is it a high-digit number like 68 or 73 usually worn by non-roster invitees.
Reinsdorf says Jordan had baseball on his mind late last year.
"It's not that far-fetched that he can play in the minor leagues and progress," says Reinsdorf.
Jordan has warmed to the likelihood of starting in the minors after initially saying he would play only if he's good enough to be in the majors.
"If the team wants me to go down and work on certain skills, and if they feel I have potential, I would certainly consider it," Jordan says. "But only if I had a chance. I wouldn't go for no reason."
Reinsdorf says people who know baseball have told him Jordan, well-built and an imposing presence at 6-6 and 200 pounds, would be a first-round draft pick - if he were 18 years old.
But Jordan will turn 31 years old on Feb. 17, the day after pitchers and catchers are to report to spring training.
Moreover, though he's accomplished everything a basketball player could imagine - leading the Bulls to the last three NBA championships and joining Wilt Chamberlain as the only players to win seven consecutive scoring titles - Jordan hasn't played competitive baseball in almost 15 years.
" I respect him as a basketball player, but he's biting off a big chunk right now, having not played in such a long time," says Hall of Famer Hank Aaron.
As baseball's career home run and RBI leader, Aaron's 23-year playing career had every bit the impact Jordan made in his abbreviated NBA career.
"He's had so much success in basketball, I don't know if he'll accept hitting .220," Aaron says. "Baseball is unlike basketball and football. When you stand at the plate with less than a second to hit a 95-mile-an-hour fastball, it's a little bit different than shooting the basketball or tackling in football."
Jordan knows it won't be easy.
"I've always felt my hand-eye coordination was pretty good," he says. "But making that adaption from a bigger ball to a smaller ball is a big challenge."
"I understand Michael," Reinsdorf says. "He loves challenges and baseball is it."
Compared with his decision to retire from the NBA Oct. 6, this latest Jordan jolt is a mere ripple on the Richter scale. Still, it caught people off guard.
"But the fans love it because it's Michael Jordan," says Schueler.
Despite Jordan's instant recognition, the White Sox insist baseball ability and not marketability will determine his fate.
"What marketing advantage do we have if he can't play?" Reinsdorf asks.
Jordan, who last played competitive baseball at age 16, speaks reverently about his father, James Jordan, murdered last summer and who always believed his son could be a major leaguer.
"My father and I talked about it two years ago," Jordan says. "He thought I was still young enough to give it a try. You never know."
Sarasota, Fla., spring home of the White Sox, is also home to the Ringling Brothers Circus Museum. And the White Sox are bracing for what could be a three-ring camp if Jordan joins them.
The team got a taste of it last spring when Bo Jackson was coming back from hip replacement surgery. An even larger horde of media and fans is expected if Jordan is in uniform.
"They're going to be there," Schueler acknowledges. "If it does happen, we've got a lot of planning and thinking to do. The biggest problem I have is how our players will respond, and so far it's all been positive."
"The only thing I worry about is there might be so many non-baseball people around," says manager Gene Lamont.
Nobody is prepared to say that basketball's loss is baseball's gain. The challenge for Jordan looks insurmountable.
"I'd say it was impossible if it were anybody else but Michael Jordan," says Schueler.
