Steve Kerr's been beating the odds his whole life

The 1988-89 Wildcats made it to the Final Four, where Kerr had what he still calls "the worst game of my life" in a semifinal loss to Oklahoma. It haunts him.

What stuck with journalists more than the 11 missed shots was how Kerr, though crushed, sat by his locker for far longer than he had to after the game, answering every question.

Though he'd made second-team All-American in his senior season, Kerr wondered if he'd even get a chance to pursue his dream, which was to play in the National Basketball Association.

Then in June 1988, the Phoenix Suns drafted him late in the second round, 50th overall, which Olson says may have been as much a courtesy pick by Jerry Colangelo as anything else.

Kerr says his initial goal was to last three years in the league, long enough to earn a pension of a few thousand dollars a month. He made the Suns roster, and basically served as a warm body for the entire season, getting into just 26 games.

Kerr made $100,000 that year, which is $100,000 more than he'd ever thought he'd make playing the game he loved so much.

He also showed a little something in his limited playing time, making eight of 17 three-point attempts. That made him marketable, however marginally, and the Suns traded Kerr to Cleveland after his rookie season.

He spent the next three seasons there, making about $500,000 a year and earning a reputation as a terrific three-point shooter.

But those lifelong limitations — can't jump, can't run, can't cover anyone defensively — seemed to be dooming him to a short career.

During the 1992-93 season, the Cavs shipped Kerr to the Orlando Magic for a second-round draft pick. One of his new teammates was a huge rookie named Shaquille O'Neal, who was taking the league by storm.

Kerr languished there for the rest of the season, averaging just two points a game. By season's end, it seemed that, at age 28, he might have to look for another line of work.

But the Arizona graduate had done his homework. He asked his agent to call the general manager of the Chicago Bulls with a proposition: Let him try out for the team; no guarantees.

Kerr's reasoning was sound. The Bulls used an offense that included heady role players like John Paxson (now that team's general manager), a clutch long-range shooter.

Paxson (who, longtime Suns fans will recall, hit a heart-breaking three-pointer in Phoenix to win the title in Game 6 of the 1993 NBA Finals) was about to retire.

Kerr hoped to replace him.

The Bulls and Coach Phil Jackson agreed to give him a chance to make the team, but under one condition: If he made the roster, he'd be paid $150,000, the league minimum at the time and way under the norm for a four-year league veteran.

Kerr jumped at the opportunity.

Coincidentally, Michael Jordan retired for the first time at the start of the training camp at which Kerr's probable fate in the league was to be determined.

Lute Olson recalls Kerr's game plan before trying out for the Bulls in the fall of 1993.

"He told me, 'If I can make that team, my career will be extended by a lot. I'm not a point guard, never was, but if they can get me the ball, I'll hit shots and make a place for myself with a great team.' He had it all mapped out. He weighs things, and he always has."

Kerr made the team, and forged a place for himself during five career-altering seasons, including a key role on the Bulls' three championship teams after Jordan came back a few years later.

Certainly, his biggest personal moment with Chicago came in Game 6 of the 1997 NBA Finals against the Utah Jazz. That game was tied at 86 with about 20 seconds to go.

Coach Jackson called a timeout to draw up a play that everyone in the home arena could have sketched out for him: Clear out for Michael, and let him do his thing.

A YouTube video shows Jordan sitting on the bench, a cup of Gatorade at his mouth. To his left are two empty seats, then Steve Kerr. Jordan looks over to Kerr and tells him to be ready.

Kerr points at Jordan and tells him he will be.

The ball gets into Jordan's hands with about eight seconds to go. He's about 20 feet from the basket, to the left of the foul line. As expected, two Jazz players come charging at him. Kerr is standing by himself at the top of the key. He moves up a little, and Jordan unexpectedly (to everyone but the two of them) passes the ball to Kerr.

Kerr doesn't hesitate. He shoots. Swish. Jordan runs over and embraces him.

Just a few seconds remain. After an ill-fated in-bounds pass by a Utah player, it's over.