**AITA for Telling My Son That Michael Jordan's "Flu Game" Was Actually One of the Greatest Moments of Toxic Hustle Culture and He Should Just Go to Bed When He's Sick?**

AITA for telling my son that Michael Jordan’s “flu game” was actually one of the greatest moments of toxic hustle culture and he should just go to bed when he’s sick?

Look, I love my kid. He’s 12, he’s obsessed with “The Last Dance,” and he keeps telling me he wants to “be like Mike” by pushing through a 100.3° fever to finish his Fortnite battle pass. So last night, I snapped. I told him the “flu game” wasn’t a heroic tale of perseverance—it was a cautionary tale about a 9-figure billionaire with an untreated gastrointestinal nightmare who gave his teammates food poisoning and probably traumatized a janitor. I said if MJ had just stayed in that Chicago hotel room and Hydrated™️, he wouldn’t have needed an IV in the locker room like some kind of Gatorade-sponsored vampire.

Now my son is crying, saying I “ruined the legend,” and my Boomer dad is threatening to cut me out of the will. AITA for roasting a 38-point performance that was literally fueled by spite, Pedialyte, and the grim reaper’s own personal permission slip? Because to me, that wasn’t greatness—that was a rich guy refusing to miss a day of work he didn’t even need.