“If he missed that shot I don’t think he could’ve slept all summer long” – MJ reveals why he trusted Kerr with the 1997 Finals dagger originally appeared on Basketball Network.
It was June 13, 1997, in Salt Lake City, with the weight of an entire championship tilting on a single possession. The Chicago Bulls, locked in a tense Game 6 against the Utah Jazz, stood just seconds away from either clinching their fifth title or returning home for a decisive Game 7.
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With the score knotted at 86, every eye in the Delta Center turned to Michael Jordan. History said he would take the shot. Instead, he passed it to Steve Kerr.
Moment of trust
Jordan decided to pass the ball to Kerr for the go-ahead jumper with just five seconds left. It was a redemptive moment for a teammate who had spent much of his early career overlooked, doubted and often dismissed as a role player riding the coattails of greater men.
But in that split second, he became the closer. And MJ made sure the world understood why that shot meant what it did — not just for the Bulls, but for Kerr himself.
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“I had faith in him and he believed in himself, and I passed him the ball and he knocked his shot down,” Jordan said. “I’m glad he was able to redeem himself, because if he had missed that shot, I don’t think he could’ve slept all summer long. And I’m very happy for Steve.”
Kerr had spent a career fighting perception. A second-round pick in 1988, he was never the most athletic guard on the floor, never the loudest in the locker room, and rarely the focus of defensive schemes. However, what he had was sharpshooting precision and confidence, which made him invaluable in Phil Jackson’s triangle offense.
He shot 46.4 percent from 3-point range in the 1996-97 season, leading the league for the third time in his career. When the Finals came around, Kerr hadn’t had a standout series. His minutes were modest and his stat line wasn’t flashy. But Jordan saw something in him that night. Something bigger than numbers.
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Kerr’s readiness
Steve was ready and eager to shoulder the pressure. This wasn’t luck; it was muscle memory crafted through years of shooting after practice and believing the ball would eventually find him when no one expected it.
Jordan didn’t improvise. That final play had intention. While most assumed he would isolate and go for another game-winner (after all, he had already dropped 39 points), he read the Jazz defense with surgical clarity. John Stockton was going to try to stop him, leaving Kerr open.
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The plan was in place, but it needed conviction.
“I look to Steve and said, ‘Hey, this is your chance, ’cause I know Stockton’s gonna come over and help and I’m gonna come to you.’ And he said, ‘Give me the ball,'” Jordan recalled.
That moment wasn’t just about the shot. Kerr’s entire arc in Chicago had been one of quiet contribution, a specialist in a system built around stars. He was there when the Bulls won 72 games. He was there when Jordan returned from baseball exile. And he was always ready, even when others weren’t watching.
But in Game 6, in front of millions, Jordan passed the ball. And he passed the trust. The Bulls would go on to win 90–86, taking their fifth championship in seven years. Kerr’s jumper was the final dagger, followed by two free throws that sealed the deal. His scoring total in that game was nine points. But no one remembers the other six.
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That singular moment carried more than just a win. It became a symbol of what it means to empower teammates, recognize the invisible work, and reward courage in the face of pressure.
In the years since, Kerr has often joked about the moment, even mimicking the dramatic locker room conversation during parades and interviews. But beneath the humor lies something deeper, the recognition that for all of Jordan’s greatness, he knew when to step back and when to let someone else rise.
This story was originally reported by Basketball Network on Jul 14, 2025, where it first appeared.