WASHINGTON -- You could tell from the beginning that this was something special, something unique. If it wasn't the endless row of television trucks or overwhelming flock of fans milling outside, the words of Wizards PR Director Maureen Nasser gave it away.

It was about two minutes before noon when Nasser stepped to the podium in the MCI Center's practice gym and asked reporters to take their seats because, "In about three minutes, he'll be here."

No further explanation was necessary. With one simple pronoun, Nasser got her point across. The bustling group of media onlookers quickly took their seats, broke out their notebooks and quietly waited.

About two minutes later, through the corner of a large black ceiling-to-floor curtain, he emerged. Wearing a black and red Air Jordan warm-up suit and matching black baseball cap, Michael Jordan addressed the media for the first time since announcing his decision to return to the NBA for a second time.

There was little news here, as the nuts and bolts of Jordan's comeback were solidified a week ago, but the chance to hear an explanation, to try and get a read on what the complicated, sometimes confusing Jordan was thinking was too much for hundreds of reporters to ignore.

Though his words were important, as they were publicly Jordan's first since announcing his return, the way MJ carried himself and more importantly, the clothes he chose to wear, spoke just as loudly. Call it a case of precision window dressing.

Long gone were the sleek, black, pin-striped suit and the cream-colored sport coat of the team owner, replaced by this slick, hip warm-up suit that fittingly swished when Jordan's legs walked together.

The shiny black suit, complete with a thin red stripe and the infamous red Jumpman on Jordan's left chest, delivered a very simple message: The days of Michael Jordan the owner, all cramped up in a stuffy sky box are long gone. In exchange, the days of Michael Jordan the player are back.

"It's an itch that still needs to be scratched and I don't want that itch to bother me for the rest of my life," Jordan said.

Jordan's other main point Monday was that this comeback, at 38 years old, is not a joke. For those who say Jordan is too old, too drained and too out of shape to be successful his third time around in the NBA, His Airness just laughs.

For those that say he's going to hurt his near-perfect legacy by returning to the NBA, including Charles Barkley, he turns the other cheek.

And for those who say he's too slow and too aged to keep up with the Allen Iverson's, Kobe Bryant's and Tracy McGrady's of the NBA world, he offers a word to the wise: You better take me seriously -- or else.

"They say there are these young dogs that are going to be chasing me around, but guess what?" Jordan said. "I'm not going to bark too far away from them either."

That quote alone showed that although Jordan may not be physically what he was when he retired in 1998, mentally, that unmatched competitive desire is still there.

And the city of Washington, D.C., couldn't be more excited. Tuesday morning, exactly three weeks to the day that a hijacked plane crashed into the side of the Pentagon, the story of Jordan's comeback will steal the headlines. On Monday, as Jordan sat in the MCI Center speaking of his commitment, desire and genuine love for the game, hundreds of fans wrapped around the outside of the arena as single-game tickets went on sale.

In three hours, tickets for each of the Wizards' 41 home games were gone. Inside the arena, in fact inside the Wizards locker room, excitement was just as prevalent.

"Excited doesn't even explain it," said rookie Michael King, who has played in Europe since graduating from Illinois-Chicago in 1997. "The first time I came into the gym and he was there, it took me about two or three days to just shake it off. It still hasn't sunk in yet. It's the greatest feeling in the world."

The attention this 19-win team will receive is sure to be unprecedented and Monday was the first example of that. As new coach Doug Collins arrived for his interview sessions, he was forced to slither between a hoard of reporters to reach his seat at a circular banquet table.

"Man," Collins said. "There must be something happening here today or something. Not bad for a team that won 19 games, huh?"

Richard Hamilton, the marquee player in Connecticut's 1999 NCAA Championship, said the added attention rivaled that of his preprofessional days.

"It hasn't been like this since college," Hamilton said. "It's the kind of excitement you like, knowing that everybody is watching us and wanting to know how we're going to do."

As Jordan addressed the media on Monday, the scene surrounding him was as peculiar as the red and black colors that covered his body. Directly behind Jordan, a silver tarp plastered with Wizards logos was precisely positioned for television exposure. Behind that hung the monstrous ceiling-to-floor curtain, like something you'd see at a Broadway show.

To Jordan's left, a life-size action shot of second-year guard Courtney Alexander hung suspended in the air. To his right, a matching cutout of Richard Hamilton driving to the basket dominated reporter's views. Nowhere were the mentions, pictures or posters of Jordan.

But that's how he wants it. After all, he's only the 12th-highest paid player among the 16 Wizards under contract. He's here to play basketball and help his young team win. Nothing else.

"I'm not walking into this thinking I'm going to fail," Jordan said. "If you don't know by now, I'm not the type of guy that is afraid to take on a challenge. If you have a vision, you go for it."

Judging by his words, his attire and his actions on Monday, that's just what he is doing.

Wayne Drehs is a staff writer for ESPN.com.