Once upon a time, Michael Jordan was a novice motorcycle street rider who turned that hobby in to a business.


There's a part of Michael Jordan's story that likely won't make the cut in ESPN's 10-hour documentary "The Last Dance" that is holding America's attention captive each Sunday night this spring. 

We know Jordan is arguably the greatest basketball player of all time from his six championship seasons with the Chicago Bulls. We know he's a hard-wired competitor who hates to lose — at anything. We know he's the ultimate corporate pitchman and an iconic symbol from his long association with Nike and its Jumpman logo. We know he's a business mogul and is the first NBA player to be the primary owner a franchise, leading the Charlotte Hornets. We know he's among the most famous people walking Earth.

But did you know Michael Jordan loved motorcycles and racing so much that he started a motorsports team that competed for a decade in America's top road racing series?

Unless, you're an AMA Pro Road Racing fan going back two decades or you're a regular at Mid-Ohio Sports Car Course, probably not.

Yet it's a fascinating story.

Jordan grew up in NASCAR country in North Carolina, so like many from the South, he enjoyed watching racing and learned to appreciate it. Also as a kid, the Jordans had a little dirt bike for Michael and his brothers, and he loved the speed and freedom he felt from racing it around.

But when he became a professional athlete, his contracts forbade him from riding.

In the 1990s and early 2000s, there was an underground motorcycle culture in Chicago. Riders would get together in packs late at night and race around the city's avenues and freeways until the wee hours of the morning while traffic was light.

One night one of those groups passed a guy riding a Ducati on the highway before they all exited for a gas station. When the Ducati followed them in and he took off his helmet, they knew it wasn't an ordinary rider.

"It's an unbelievable story," Casmay said in 2004. "A guy from ESPN Magazine came to do a story, and the first thing he said was, 'You don't meet Michael Jordan at a gas station, so how do you meet him?' I said, 'Well, actually that's the way we met.' He couldn't believe it."

Actually Casmay couldn't believe it either.

"You want to meet him, but what do you say that's worth saying to him?" he said.

One of the riders in the pack met Jordan years earlier when his uncle worked security for Bulls teammate Dennis Rodman. So he went over to Jordan and told him to ditch the Nike sweatsuit, sneakers and weight lifting gloves and start wearing real riding attire like leathers, boots and riding gloves to be safer. He also gave Jordan his card and told him to call if he ever wanted to go riding with the group.

Two days later, the riders had a new member.

"It became almost a nightly thing," Casmay said.

Jordan was new at riding and told Casmay that he wanted to learn from the best. Casmay turned to his friend Montez Stewart, a street riding legend in Chicago who had just started a budding road racing career on the club circuits.

"I rode on the streets with him for a little while, and he was impressed with the way I rode. I told him we needed to go to a race track and then you could see what we really do," Stewart said.

In September of 2003, just months after his final basketball retirement with the Washington Wizards, Jordan rented Blackhawk Farms Raceway in Illinois.

"I told him, 'I know people approach you with all sorts of craziness all the time, but what I know is you're stepping into my arena. This is what I do. I can teach you and show you what to do, but you've got to listen and take it serious because it's so easy to go out and hurt yourself,'" Stewart said.

He found a willing pupil in Jordan.

"I'm sure there are a lot of things he couldn't do because of basketball contracts. He's always loved motorcycles, and he's always wanted to ride. He was retired, so why not enjoy the fruits of his labor?" Stewart said.

He showed Jordan how to take a knee while cornering and even saw Jordan spring up after laying down the bike.

"The bug bit him and he was ready to go after that," Stewart said.

Not long after that adventure, Stewart got a call from Jordan asking for a meeting where they discussed Stewart's racing career and the constant search for money to do it competitively.

Afterward, Stewart called Casmay and asked for his help in drafting a proposal for Jordan's people since Casmay had a business background as a manager for Nestle Chocolate and as an owner of his own investment company. Within a month, they were in business.

Michael Jordan Motorsports was born.

Stewart moved up to the highest ranks of professional motorcycle road racing in America; Casmay was living his dream by heading up the new racing enterprise; and Jordan's brand and his associated sponsors had a chance to reach a new market and demographics.

However, finding success on the track proved elusive.

Normally it takes a year to start a team from scratch. Jordan did it in less than two months. Stewart was a 31-year-old rookie going against legacies and kids who literally started riding as soon as they could walk. And being a novice in a paddock filled with factory-backed outfits, well-funded satellite teams and seasoned privateers didn't help the cause.

At the Honda Super Cycle Weekend hosted by Mid-Ohio in July of 2004, Stewart went one lap in the Superstock race before a mechanical problem ended his ride. That was more than he got out of the Supersport race where he crashed out in the first turn.

"I think there's pressure on any guy with any sponsor because they want their stuff to shine," Stewart said before that long ago race weekend. "The one thing (Jordan) told me is, 'Tez, you're the underdog so go out there and shock some people and do what you can do.'"

At the 2004 season opener in Daytona, Jordan showed off his new enterprise to his agent David Falk, old Bulls teammate Charles Oakley and officials with Nike and Gatorade who were on board with the venture.

"He said he wished he'd gotten into this a long time ago. When we rode back on the plane, he said that was one of the best experiences he's ever had," Stewart said.

By the next year, Jordan's competitive nature got to him and he became serious about the venture.

"Last year, Michael had no idea what he was getting into. He was just helping a buddy out and having some fun," veteran rider Josh Hayes said. "He went to a lot of races, listened to everybody, picked their brains for information and realized this is a great sport."

Jordan dumped the underperforming Yamahas for Suzuki, the dominant manufacturer during that time. He also brought in seasoned road racing pros Jason Pridmore and Steve Rapp to add to Stewart.

Over the next several seasons, former champions like Aaron Yates, Ben Bostrom and Jake Zemke plus younger stars like Roger Lee Hayden and Danny Eslick would also ride in the Jumpman leathers, enjoying podium finishes and race wins. Yates brought a Superstock championship to the team in 2008; Corey Alexander earned a SuperSport East title in 2013; and Zemke gave MJM its first Superbike win in 2010 — the highest level of the series.

If not for the unsettled nature of American road racing in the mid-2010s, Jordan might still be competing. Instead, with crowds waning and TV broadcasts fleeting, he shuttered the team in 2014.

It may not match what he did on the basketball court, but nevertheless, Jordan left a lasting legacy in motorcycle racing.

And to think it all came to be because of a chance encounter at a Chicago gas station. It's a fascinating story worthy of an 11th hour.

Rob McCurdy is the sports writer at the Marion Star and for USA Today Network-Ohio and can be reached at, work 740-375-5158, cell 419-610-0998, Twitter @McMotorsport and Instagram @rob_mccurdy_star.