Sweet Emotion

Go figure. Three days after losing to the worst team in the NBA Eastern Conference, the Bulls beat the second-best. Chicago 139 New York 126. My oh my. Not only does Billy Donovan show up Tom Thibodeau, Coach T’s team coughed up a nine-point lead at halftime. And the team coached by that mastermind of defense allowed 41 points in the third quarter, then another 35 in the fourth. What happened? In part, Derrick Rose, whose retirement got commemorated over the course of a 25-minute ceremony between halfs. The Spurs come to town Monday, by which time the emotional high from having Rose and Joakim Noah, Luol Deng and a host of other ex-Bulls in the building should be gone. At which point, an almot-.500 team will have to find a way to beat Victor Wembanyama.

It's Bad, You Know

Ex-Bulls’ forward Jimmy Butler appears to have gone off the deep end in Miami, where he’s just been suspended for seven games. According to the Heat’s front office, “Through his actions and statements, he [Butler] has shown he no longer wants to be part of this team.” For his part, Butler says, “I want to see me getting my joy back playing basketball.” [today’s Tribune] Isn’t this all a little weird? Butler was the Bulls’ first-round draft pick back in 2011 and spent six productive seasons in Chicago. But the Bulls are the Bulls, and part of what makes a bad organization bad is not knowing when they have it good. See Butler, Jimmy, and ever so many more. Bad, bad teams are like the Hornets and Wizards, who never seem to get it right. The Bulls are more crazy bad. In Chicago, Butler was pretty gung-ho, team-first all the time. Things soured when he started opening his mouth about the blah roster around him. I doubt his criticisms included Bobby Portis, another Bulls’ first-round pick. Butler and Portis played together for three years, 2015-2018. That, my friends, was a pretty nice foundation to build around. Instead, Butler got traded for Kris Dunn, Zach LaVine and Lauri Markkanen while Portis was basically traded away for nothing after punching Nikola Mirotic at practice. Yes, fighting is both bad and dangerous, But Portis was just like Butler, gung-ho and team-first. Mirotic? Nikola first and foremost. A dangerous mix of personalities there. So, now the Bulls are thinking about trading LaVine. For Butler? If only a time machine could be part of the deal.

Yeah, Right

Writing in The Athletic this week, Steve Buckley explains why he voted for Red Sox second baseman Dustin Pedroia for the Hall of Fame. Heaven help us all. Keep in mind that Pedroia, whose career was cut short by injuries, managed 1805 hits, 725 RBIs and 922 runs in what basically was an eleven-year career. Did I mention that Buckley used to write a column for the Boston Herald or that he tried to buttress his case for Pedroia by invoking Tony Conigliaro, another Red Sox player with an injury-shortened career? He did. I have absolutely nothing against Pedroia as a player. In fact, I think if women ever make it as MLB players, it’ll be in the Pedroia mold, compact and powerful. But those stats just aren’t worthy of Cooperstown. Not that it will keep East Coast voters from trying their best to get him in. Pedroia had a 51.9 WAR per baseball-reference.com, by the way. Compare that to Mark Buehrle’s 59.1. I wonder if Buckley voted for Buehrle, too. I wonder if Buckley knows who Buehrle is.

The Power of Sports

Forget if you can that the Blackhawks with their 12-24 record risk entering into the big-loser zone currently occupied by the Bears and White Sox. What they did New Year’s Eve is worth repeating. No, not losing 6-2 to the Blues, but playing in Wrigley Field and having players take the “L” as a group to the game—now, that was something. And walking from the Addison Red Line station to the ballpark to the accompaniment of bagpipes. Something, again. Despite what the Bears would have you believe, an indoor stadium for them would generate just one Super Bowl. Otherwise, show me a Northern venue that’s hosted multiple times. Sorry, the four games held in and around Detroit and Minneapolis all took place at different facilities, over the course of four decades. Blame it on the ice and cold. But you can’t play hockey without ice, and ice means cold, and cold means outdoors, or making the indoors cold enough to support ice. The idea of a “winter classic” NHL game was pure genius. I mean, Wrigley Field and Fenway Park. You can’t beat the location, even in the dead of winter. Something about a line of players carrying their skates and sticks along Waveland Avenue with the bagpipes piping goes beyond the commerce of professional sports. This is what makes a city a city. More, please, starting with the Crosstown Series in May and July.

(Not) Crazy

A sane person can hold all sorts of contradictory notions at the same time, or so the saying goes. I know I do. Right now, I despise White Sox owner Jerry Reinsdorf and don’t think much of his puppy announcer, John Schriffen. I also absolutely hate that the Sox went 41-121 last year. So, why does reading Jim Callis on mlb.com today tick me off? Callis wrote of Sox pitching prospect Noah Schultz, “I’m slightly worried he’s going to be so impressive he’s going to ruin his candidacy by getting to the big leagues too quickly. On the other hand, his team is atrocious and they aren’t going to contend so they don’t have to rush him.” S@!$& you, buddy. A big part of baseball’s appeal is predicated on the hope next year brings; it’s what sustains fans like me rooting for teams like the Sox. Yes, I want the 21-year old Schultz to make the team out of spring training and have a breakout rookie season. But that won’t change what I think of Reinsdorf and Schriffen. I mean, I’m not crazy.