A deafening explosion rang out in the middle of the Chicago night, shaking the entire Interstate 90. A giant fireball erupted, turning the red Ferrari into a scorched iron block. People screamed, black smoke billowed, fire trucks and ambulance sirens wailed loudly in the crowded traffic. No one could believe that in that terrifying moment, basketball legend Michael Jordan — the immortal “Air Jordan” — was the victim of the explosive collision.

A shocked witness recounted: “I saw the Ferrari rushing at a terrifying speed, just a few seconds later lost control, crashed into the median strip and exploded. Everything happened so fast that no one had time to react.” Paparazzi who happened to be there immediately took pictures, flashing their cameras at the fiery scene, capturing images of panicked fans screaming, and police rushing to block the road.

Fire trucks rushed in, spraying white water, but the flames engulfed the steel body of the car. In the chaos, paramedics rushed in, pulling Michael Jordan from the rubble in a motionless state. His clothes were scorched, his body was covered in blood. A paramedic exclaimed: “I can’t believe this is Michael Jordan. We did CPR right on the highway, but his body was severely damaged.”

The breathtaking emergency moment: an oxygen mask pressed against a motionless face, a defibrillator flashing red and blue lights from the ambulance. A simulated heartbeat sounded from a portable monitor, signaling a fragile hope. Fans knelt along the highway, crying and praying, while police struggled to keep the crowd from rushing into the scene.

A convoy of ambulances, sirens blaring, rushed to Northwestern Memorial Hospital. In the ICU, the medical team used all their strength: continuous electric shocks, needles crisscrossing, red monitor screens flashing rapidly. A doctor on duty at night shared in tears: “We fought for 40 minutes, but the injury was too severe. The fire burned the lungs and circulatory system.”

That night, the ICU was lit up with cold white lights, reporters were on duty outside, fans gathered in a sea of ​​people. The hashtag #PrayForJordan exploded on Twitter, Instagram, Facebook, spreading worldwide in just a few hours. Barack Obama, former US president and close friend, wrote: “Michael was more than just an athlete. He was a timeless icon. I pray this is not true.”

But at dawn, the bad news was confirmed. Michael Jordan had officially passed away, at the age of 62. Chicago was in mourning. I-90 was still paralyzed, turned into a sea of ​​white flowers brought by fans placed among the smoldering ashes. One fan cried: “He made us believe that humans could fly. And now, he flies away forever.”

The pain did not stop. As thousands of people jostled to get closer to the scene, a nearby overpass suddenly collapsed due to overload, injuring dozens of fans. Rescue helicopters were dispatched, but one had a technical problem during an emergency landing, creating a “double incident” that shook Chicago.

A national funeral was declared within 12 hours. The American flag was lowered at the White House, the NBA announced the retirement of jersey number 23 across the league. The United Center — the place that marked a great career — was transformed into a memorial sanctuary. A sea of ​​people lined the streets, candles flickered into a river of light. The hashtag #GoodbyeMichaelJordan became a global cry.

A legend fell not on the football field, but on a blazing highway. And that Chicago night will forever be a painful memory that cannot be erased.