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<UID>
9202120094
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<PUBLICATION>
DETROIT FREE PRESS
</PUBLICATION>
<DATE>
921106
</DATE>
<TDATE>
Friday, November 06, 1992
</TDATE>
<EDITION>
METRO FINAL
</EDITION>
<SECTION>
SPT
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<PAGE>
1C
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<ILLUSTRATION>

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<BYLINE>
MITCH ALBOM
</BYLINE>
<AFFILIATION>

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<MEMO>

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<COPYRIGHT>
Copyright (c) 1992, Detroit Free Press
</COPYRIGHT>
<HEADLINE>
FEAR OF MAGIC WAS UNKINDEST CUT OF ALL
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<BODY>
A couple months ago, Olden Polynice was playing basketball in LA with a
bunch of guys, and one of them was Magic Johnson. There was contact. Magic cut
his hand. He was bleeding. They stopped the  game.

  "Oooh!" the others teased, as Magic went for a Band-Aid. "He's bleeding!
Look out! Don't wanna catch nothing! Hahahaha!"

  They laughed. Magic laughed. He fastened the Band-Aid, and the  game
resumed. And nobody, according to Polynice, played him any differently, even
though there is something in Magic's blood that can kill you.
  "We bumped him, took him to the hole, same as always," Polynice said, at
the Palace Thursday afternoon. "We muscled, we scratched, we played ball, you
know?" These were guys such as Reggie Miller, Pooh Richardson, Shaquille
O'Neal, Danny Manning, Duane Cooper,  LaSalle Thompson, pro players, all of
them, so I guess not everyone in the NBA is afraid of rubbing Magic the wrong
way.
  Yet, as we speak, this is still the top story, The Issue Of The Week: Pro
basketball lifts its curtain tonight, and Magic Johnson is watching from the
seats, with no intention of lacing up his sneakers again. "I'm disappointed,"
he said, in retiring this week, citing other  players' fears of his AIDS
virus. "I'm disappointed to be walking away from the game. And I'm
disappointed in peoples' attitudes."
  The NBA begins with an ending. 
  A very un-Magical ending.
  And the question is, is it necessary?
 
Proof of the ignorance 
  "No way," said Polynice, the Pistons' new center, who played part of the
summer with Johnson in LA. "It's ignorance. Just ignorance.  Doctors will tell
you that.  You don't bleed in, you bleed out.
  "Look at me. Here, you want me to open this cut for you?" 
  He squeezed a scab on his finger and, slowly, blood began to ooze.
  "See? Look at me. I'm bleeding out. I'm not bleeding inwards, I'm bleeding
out, OK?"
  The small crowd around him nodded, like scientists agreeing on a microscope
slide. And yet, elsewhere, around  the country, people were waving a news
story about an Italian soccer player who butted heads with an HIV-positive
player a few years ago, both of them bled, and two months later, the
previously clean player tested positive.
  "See?" people say. "This proves it."
  Well. Let's admit this much. There is nothing proven here. There is no
proof you can catch AIDS on a basketball court. This is no  proof you can't.
Hey, there's no proof this is why Magic is retiring. Why? Because he said it
is? Come on. If we've learned anything in this presidential election week,
it's that you can't always believe  what you hear, no matter how many talk
shows you hear it on.
  But if no one really knows about open sores and virus exchange, we can
still be sure of this: The next player who tests HIV positive  will do the
obvious. 
  He will keep it to himself.
  Why? Simple. If Magic Johnson, with all his charisma and NBA power,
couldn't handle the negative reaction, how could a less popular player? His
peers would criticize far more quickly. He would not be given a Johnson-like
$14-million salary, whether he plays or not.
  "The next guy is not gonna admit it -- he is not going to admit it!"
Polynice agreed. "The next guy who tests positive will say, 'Aw man (cough), I
just got a cold, man.' "
  Gallows humor. Sad, but true.
 
Players must take stock  Bill Clinton was right about one thing.  This is a
time for taking stock of ourselves, for seeing who we are, and who we want to
be.
  You, as American workers, may soon be asked to line up on folks like Magic
Johnson, much the way NBA players  are doing now. Yea or nay? Do you work with
them or not? Karl Malone, who played with Magic on the U.S. Olympic team,
says, "You can't tell me we're not at risk." Gerald Wilkins of the Cavs said
Johnson  "could be dangerous to us all."
  Polynice says they're crazy.
  Me? I say paranoia is far too easy, and compassion far too rare. So the
precedent set by this disturbs me. The bottom line: We need  more information.
  "Think about this for a minute," Polynice said.  "The life- styles that we
NBA players live? I'm sure Magic is not the only one (who is HIV-positive). So
you might be playing against someone who has the disease, and you don't even
know it. What are you gonna do, not play against anybody?"
  Good question. What's the answer?
  Magic suggests it was leave the game, not shake things  up. That is a sad
finish. He had the courage to admit his affliction and to continue despite it.
  Could it be that the final chapter on Magic's legacy will read like this:
"He could beat his own fear.  He just couldn't beat everyone else's."
  Polynice shook his head. "You know, over the summer, when he got cut, we
stopped the game and waited. We just weren't gonna play without Magic."
  They  will now.
  The season starts tonight.
  How very strange this world has become.
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