Some things might have been less surprising, like George Karl running an NAACP testimonial for Doc Rivers, like Anthony Mason being the religion instructor for Keith Van Horn's children, like Mark Cuban being quiet. But not this, not Isiah Thomas coaching Michael Jordan in an All-Star Game.

Jordan's last one, at that, when a nation bows down and says thank you for one last time. It believes.

	The Bulls-Pistons rivalry paled in comparison to the hatred between Isiah (11) and MJ.

This is so unlikely you have to smile, like Wally Szczerbiak trying to broker a détente between Kevin Garnett and Stephon Marbury.

There was no hatred in the NBA like Isiah Thomas and Michael Jordan almost 20 years ago, like many of the NBA players, the better ones really, toward Jordan back then. Back, really, when Jordan was LeBron James, the guy who everyone was talking about and celebrating before he'd done anything, the guy who had the 80s version of a Hummer, his own sneaker, when it seemed inappropriate to everyone else to have one. Just who did he think he was!

King Michael I.

It's so long ago that nobody remembers -- remembers that Magic Johnson was the NBA, with two championships already, that Larry Bird was the NBA, and Julius Erving and Moses Malone and that kid Thomas, already a three-time All-Star and All-Star Game MVP. And here comes this Jordan kid with the special sneakers and the personal warmups, and just who did he think he was!

Back then Johnson and Thomas were the axis powers, one from Michigan State, the other playing in Detroit. They were the kissin' cousins of the NBA -- friends, confidants. They shared business relationships and advisors. Jordan was the new kid on the block at the All-Star Game in 1985, when everyone wore All-Star garb to the game. Not Jordan, who really didn't know better, sort of like the mid-80s version of taking a couple of retro jerseys. Jordan just thought he was doing what was best for the companies that paid him so much money then. He didn't know it just was not done. Several of the others thought Jordan was trying to show them up, show himself to be something special.

It supposedly led to The Freezeout.

That was the alleged infamous chill of Jordan in his first All-Star Game in 1985, supposedly led by Johnson and Thomas. One of their business agents whispered it to reporters afterward. Jordan, rocketing through the league as already one of its most prolific scorers, was held to seven points on 2-of-9 shooting. But I say "allegedly" because many doubt it ever happened. After all, Johnson and Thomas were on opposite teams, and the other supposed principal co-conspirator was George Gervin, also on the West team with Johnson. How were they supposed to freeze out Jordan and embarrass him? Thomas did score 22 points in the game, but it was far from his best All-Star output. There probably was no organized or disorganized freezeout.

But the effect for Jordan was the same. He felt others were trying to embarrass him, and Thomas supposedly was the ringleader. It led to a chill between Jordan and Johnson that went on for years, but melted away in the late 1980s, after which the two actually became good friends.

	Jordan would eventually say the Pistons were undeserving champions when the Bulls were on the verge of sweeping the Pistons in the 1991 Eastern Conference finals, after which Thomas led most of his temamates off the court before the game ended without an acknowledgement to the Bulls.

The bitter feelings between Jordan and Thomas never subsided much, in part because their playing rivalry grew by the year. The Pistons would become the Bulls' obstacle to the championship, and an annual frustration. And the confrontations often were ugly, fight-marred and angry. Jordan would eventually say the Pistons were undeserving champions when the Bulls were on the verge of sweeping the Pistons in the 1991 Eastern Conference finals, after which Thomas led most of his temamates off the court before the game ended without an acknowledgement to the Bulls.

Which led to Thomas' exclusion from the 1992 Olympic Dream Team, which was less basketball team than celebration of the best of U.S. basketball. Jordan supposedly demanded it as his price to participate. Again, like with The Freezeout, no one was quite sure. But it again engendered hard feelings.

So they eyed one another like angry alley cats for years. They worked in the same business, but didn't much get involved in one another's business. Thomas worked in TV some and had to comment on Jordan and his games. He played it straight and professionally. Jordan moved on through his own years of indecision. They'd cross paths at times, and it was always civil.

They both left the cities where they thought they'd be for life, and maturity seemed to extinguish the fires of bitterness that burned between them. They experienced failures and criticism, but both remained elite figures in the game -- Jordan returning to play as not what he once was yet still a deserving All-Star and Thomas fighting off his critics, as he did the hoodlums in his native Chicago's streets before, to prove himself as a coach, the coach of the best team in the Eastern Conference. Which meant he'd be the All-Star coach. Coaching All-Star Michael Jordan. Eighteen years later, which neither would ever said was possible. Which then both probably would refuse to be a part of.

Not Sunday in Atlanta. Isiah Thomas will call down the bench and signal for Michael Jordan to go into the game. He'll smile. Jordan will smile. And the rest of us will just shake our heads. And smile. You will love this game.

Sam Smith, who covers the NBA for the Chicago Tribune, is a regular contributor to ESPN.com.