All the ex-Bulls
Every NBA player loves a trade to the Bulls. It usually happens in February, disgusting time of year for any NBA city but Chicago chiefly of all, until sun sets at 5:22 PM and Chicago blends into the most gorgeous thing anyone's ever seen and from every angle.
The player doesn't have to drive through any of it, America's top time-stealing highways, simply abide by the chauffeur the Bulls pay to ferry the brief Bull to work and back from February through April. I'm sure the Bulls pay a professional these days, they didn't when Jordan rolled up.
The trip between O'Hare and the hotel and arena won't have enough time to turn familiar, but the player will take an inordinate amount of photos of himself in his cool Bulls uniforms. He will pack up more free team gear than he did in his time with Portland or Boston or Orlando, he will participate in some truly terrible NBA basketball and then move onto a real NBA team in summer.
Nobody wants to re-sign or especially sign with the Chicago Bulls, not unless they offer an outrageous contract. And even then.
If the offer is approximate – or even, even – the free agent chooses the other team. Another club with a singular direction, superior stability.
That's every other NBA club. Ask any ex-Bull and ex-Blazer, ex-Celtic, ex-Magic: Chicago does it differently. And "different," in this instance, does mean "worse."
(Apparently the White Sox are also doin' it differently again this season.)
But it is fun to be a Bull, however impermanently, maybe you'll wear Luc Longley's number, maybe you'll get Toni Kukoc's or Ron Harper's. Maybe they'll give you Bill Cartwright's number, maybe you'll get Scott Burrell's, they're the same number. Can't have Rodman's No. 91, even though the Bulls don't have the [Rodmans] to retire it.
Chicago was a graceful winner in the 1990s. Chicago let everyone root for the Bulls, cry along to Billy Corgan lyrics, walk around doing what they thought was Robert Smigel's version of a Chicago accent but what was really Rich Eisen's version of a Chicago accent. Nobody snooted when kids from Rochester or Tucson insisted, via t-shirt their mom purchased, that real men could only wear but one color.
We were kind! I was on the internet in 1996, 1997, the beginning of the NBA's atomic age, the shot-chart era. Bulls fans were cool to people, calm when ignorant interlopers told us the Bulls should start Steve Kerr over Ron Harper, ridiculous notions, incorrect thoughts. The AOL message sleeves are gone but those alt.dot.rec.forums.NBA.internet posts are still out there, holding up I'm sure.
We've done nothing to deserve this, is what I'm after. Seriously, what the hell.
Ben Wallace, that "outrageous offer" listed above? That was two decades ago. The graduation party, those clear plastic cups, the little ones. Swab the rim with a pinky to drag the last drop of Jäger.
Some of you spent the summer of 2014 wondering if Carmelo Anthony was a good or terrible idea on the Bulls and also if eschewing a professional DJ for the wedding reception was a good or terrible idea. The 2018 Jabari Parker signing was one, whole, third-grader ago.
Only 300 people will read this email, but statistically to at least three of you each of these references are an exact measurement of a specific spin through time. Bullstime.
Know where I read coverage of the Bulls drafting Corey Benjamin? The old Loop Bennigan's. The Sun-Times' featured a large draft night picture of a disappointed Corey (wearing a prominent New York Knicks t-shirt) amid his proud and clapping family, all but the most important member of the family excited over going to the Bulls. Not a sign, we thought at the time.
That was weeks after the last title, we had no expectations for Chicago's latest No. 28 pick. But humans remain determined to find patterns, especially us 21st Century cruisers picking through the storage space, past all these old Wheaties boxes.
All I'm trying to do is find reasons why it all happened, something I tripped, trying to remember if my Bulls-head took some butterfly wings out of the loop on my way into the Loop Bennigan's.
The actual sign? The team owner and his GM chased Phil Jackson out of his senses and were willing to break Bulls players up before the Bulls wanted to break up.
The latest indication? Chicago identified Jaden Ivey as its latest asset investment without doing any research about Jaden Ivey, who apparently was already rerouting journalist questions into scriptural scrutiny while in Detroit. Now I'm typically not here to dismiss the depth of someone's faith, but when its surface starts with apparel featuring the name of the savior, I'll be over here dismissing it.
That goes for all of them: Deadheads wear too many Jerry t-shirts these days.
Deadhead shirts should only be the Steal Your Face skull, as Ra intended. Wanna augment with dancin' bears? Go ahead, I'm not orthodox, but nobody sees Stones fans walking around with the faces of whoever's left alive on a Stones shirt. They stick to the tongue.
I liked the idea of Ivey, a lot. That's a trend, with me and the Bulls, from Krause to Pax to Gar to the spectacularly-out-of-his-depth-as-GM (Google still refers to him as a "Lithuanian basketball player") Artūras Karnišovas.
Dalen Terry, Keith Booth, Jason Caffey, Chandler Hutchinson, Lonny Baxter, Denzel Valentine, Marcus Fizer, Patrick Williams, each GM enjoys 6-7ish guys who are mostly incapable of contributing average NBA basketball minutes. I talked myself into every choice. I still like Caffey's two-hand turnaround "jumper."
Let's talk about the ones who survived. Let's rank them by how much I miss watching them play basketball for the Chicago Bulls, least-affected to largest-hurt, Starks-to-Scottie.
Marko Simonovic – is 26-years old now, lowest on a 26-person list. Still a professional, not a great one, but paid to play basketball.
Patrick Beverley – don't ever Google "patrick beverley," not for the rest of your life, don't click on any links culling quotes from his podcasts. We need to read Pat Beverley basketball opinions like I need another bag of plain pretzels and, let me tell each of us, I don't need another bag of plain pretzels.
Zach LaVine – there is no way I'm ready to talk about Zach LaVine. I'll talk about anyone else, anything else.
Terry Cummings, any power forward, how Status Quo has to be a chief inspiration for Spinal Tap, how that returning 1990s haircut I see everywhere should be called "a Vivian Trimble" in tribute, Sedale Threatt, Gary Cherone's Circus Magazine interview from 1992 (Gary said he enjoyed burned bagels), the time our delivery driver accidentally sent us a picture of a baby instead of the bags on our stoop, John Lucas III. Plain pretzels. Rods or twirls or whatever.
JLIII, now there was a mensch:
Vuc – similar to Pat Bev, but only once he retires. Nikola Vucevic might shame Andrew Bogut someday when it comes to being cross with young American fellas via social media post.
Kevin Huerter – every 21st Century Bull is better as a Detroit Piston, every 21st Century Piston is worse as a Chicago Bull. There's no way Joe Dumars wasn't paying Rip Hamilton to down the Bulls from inside, "buyout" my ass.
Dalen Terry – waived by the Knicks, works regularly on two-way minutes with the Sixers, 4.3 points on 42 percent shooting in 13 games. Has as many assists (23) as recent Bull addition Leonard Miller, but in 235 fewer minutes.
Doug McDermott – worse than waived, Doug to play on the Kings. Takes off his sweats darn near every night these days, hits over 40 percent of his threes. Might get a thirteenth year. Probably woulda turned in a normal NBA career arc had he not debuted under a coach who hated him. Doug's dimed 14 assists in 332 minutes this season, hardly Dalen Terry-numbers.
Lonzo Ball – similar to Pat with podcasts, the takes will only get worse from here on out. Listen to podcasts from ex-Trail Blazers and ex-Grizzlies but never anyone from the Ball family.
Jett Wagner – or Franz Howard. Either way, that's not his real name.
Howard dropped a dozen in a must-win for Orlando on Tuesday, maybe the best I've seen him all year, Wagner rushed back for a must-miss in Germany earlier this year, ruined Orlando's whole year.
Jett Wagner, Franz Howard. 'Falcon's Crest' (seasons 3-5), journeyman keyboardist.
Nikola Mirotic – is 35 now but was also 35 when he was in the NBA, he's always been 35, it was never gonna matter with this guy:
Luke Kornet – wasn't nearly as good when he was on the Bulls, despite what Stacey King screamed, so technically I'm not missing anything.
Cameron Payne – I'll be the first in line to tell everyone else they need to apologize to Cameron Payne for all the jokes.
I don't need to say I'm sorry to him. If Cameron Payne stays angry enough to confront me in a locker room I'll simply step two paces to my left, his right. I'm safe there, he'd have to move to his right to find me.
I'm just kidding, I don't show up to the locker room.
Daniel Gafford – thought he was empty calories and was way wrong, the man can defend the rim and won't drag an offense, I enjoy listening to his interviews, I appreciate his slams and jams.
They tell me that plain pretzels are empty calories but I don't buy it, not the way I eat pretzels.
Wendell Carter Jr. – thought he would turn into a borderline All-Star and I was borderline right, which also makes me borderline wrong.
Jevon Carter – I heartily welcomed his introduction to the Bulls but he struggled in his hometown. Such is life as an early-30s point guard, it could roll off the table any minute.
Worse in Orlando (39/33/55) but probably because he plays 21.2 minutes per game out of nowhere, the Magic are one ankle injury away from Jevon Carter breaking his career high in minutes per game (22.3, Milwaukee in 2022-23) with seven games to go. All he needs is an injury ahead of him, and he's on the right team for that.
Bobby Portis – I was in a bar in Milwaukee watching the 2021 Finals and the stadium started chanting his name and then the whole bar started chanting his name and, yeah, I was jealous. I wasn't in the moment, at all.
I would absolutely rob Milwaukee of its time on the throne if it meant my 40-win Bulls could have Bobby Portis back to make my viewing evenings more palatable. At least Bobby got in a fight, won't see him for a week but it was worth it, especially after Olynyk hit that three.
Every stranger in the bar that night would have picked up my tab without thinking twice, without knowing that I'd absolutely wipe each of these smiling, shared seconds away if it meant I didn't have to watch Otto Porter Jr. mope around at the same positions Chet Walker and Bob Love used to play.
That's not selfish, Milwaukee could win it without Bobby.
OK, fine, that's a little selfish but I'm a little frustrated. Nobody's feared a Bull since 1998.
Derrick Jones Jr. – watched him last week with the Clippers in Indy, followed him through possession after possession, he still gives everything for his team. Bummer he had to give it to the Bulls, too.
Javonte Green – maybe my most-loved Bull on this list, but that's why I want him off the Bulls. I need Javonte Green elsewhere. Go on. Play for a team that appreciates you, Javonte Green.
Lauri Markkanen – anyone think Portland makes the playoffs in 2027 or 2028?
Kris Dunn – Bulls let him walk because, I don't know, he didn't fit the timeline or something.
Bulls haven't had a timeline since 2006 and then they did the last thing you do with a timeline, sign a 32-year old veteran to a contract he has no choice but to accept because you outbid the team he really wanted to stay with.
At least the Bulls traded Tyson Chandler's prime immediately after. In exchange for 21-year old J.R. Smith (waived!) and P.J. Brown, whose massive expiring contract the Bulls let expire. But at least Chicago signed Andres Nocioni to a five-year, $37.5 million contract the Bulls traded seven months later, somehow to Sacramento for Brad Miller.
Chicago, bailed out again by the Kings. Sacramento is the only franchise in the league still routinely outfoxed by the Bulls.
Talen Horton-Tucker – crushin' dudes in Is-tan-bul ...
DeMar DeRozan – DeMar DeRozan fans need to file a class action suit against the Sacramento Kings, I watched so many Kings minutes this season because of DeMar DeRozan.
There's been one guy like late-1990s Jordan since those late 1990s – not Wade, not Shai, not Kobe. In a game gone mad with three true outcomes, DeRozan remains the nicest around. There may not be anything like him for a while, certainly nobody given the go-ahead to try, DeRozan hit 45 percent of his deep twos in his 30s, nearing half his midrangers, better percentage on twos this season than Maxey or Jaylen.
Alex Caruso – 130 combined playoff and regular season games since trade from Chicago, compared with 123 from Josh "We Do?" Giddey.
Coby White – knew we were going to lose him the minute he tried to put on a Bulls hat.
Taj Gibson – tell me he couldn't have been a Bull this entire time. There was no reason to let Taj Gibson go.
Losing Taj Gibson was like selling your tricked-out, all modern conveniences, never-die Kia Stinger. Don't sell an "enthusiast's car" for something normal and then act all sad every time there's a badass Kia Stinger on the road, two-hand dunking in colors you don't like (as much).
I need Taj Gibson to play for another NBA season but only on the teams that make it possible for Taj Gibson to prevent another Boozer family member from playing a single second of the fourth quarter.
Ayo Dosunmu – Bulls fans tried to tell everyone they could about this guy. How he simply works up winning basketball, the things that drag a team to 21 by two.
It is why he stuck out as a second-round pick, the temerity to take over. Not because he thinks he's the best thing on the court, but because the basket is right there. Because it isn't lame to play defense. Because nobody else wanted to run as hard.
Then again, I don't know if I want to see what Josh Giddey looks like when Josh Giddey runs hard.
Whatever the 1998-99 season was gonna look like, I knew Chicago wasn't in the mix. I had to come up with a second team to root for in good faith while Jerry Krause lined up lottery odds, made excuses over the max contract rules. Minnesota was obvious, KG right there.
The easy fandom took a hit early on, the midday gut-punch of ESPN.com's copy detailing Stephon Marbury move to the 3-14 New Jersey Nets. Yet I backed onward, through all the missed jump hooks from every last one of those centers Minnesota tried out. Through all the games the other team attempted twice as many free throws as the Timberwolves. Not to the point of enjoying Wally Szczerbiak, kept that dignity, but hung in through times of Ebi, space spent on Paul Grant (only available for use on NBA Live '99), talks with myself about Will Avery.
I'm still that Wolves fan. It's a like, not a love, but Ayo Dosunmu on the Timberwolves helps me really, really like-like the Timberwolves even more. Certainly more than Trenton Hassell did. That guy made Keith Bogans look like James "Hollywood" Robinson.
Still love my favorite team, but the attachment is chilly, distant. If it were given cinematic treatment and Lake Forest filming clearance, Mary Tyler Moore would earn an award for her acting portrayal.
Caffeinated color analysts will bring up the Bulls during playoff games this spring, wonder what went wrong while discussing the greatness of Ayo, Coby, perpetually Caruso. Maybe Dunn as a "remember this?" or even Javonte as an "I have internet." Maybe the embarrassment will shake things (is what we hope, every year).
Makes me want to root for each of these players to succeed further, and for Chicago's pick to land exactly where the odds tell it to next month.
Yeah, it's April. We made it past winter. There are no April Fool's bits in this email, please read with ease.
Go Bulls.
THE SAME STAT WEBSITE FOR THREE DECADES
It isn't the daily driver I used it for in the 1990s and early 2000s, but a few times a week I still check into Doug Stats. Doug does the job for me, the team rankings, the Last Ten Games, the per-game layout. Raw totals.
FLATTEN ODDS FOR ALL LOTTERY PICKS?
Didn't Dallas just prove it beneficial to give the Play-In a miss and drop into a lottery pick?
If there is any improved draft position to lose into, teams will lose into it. Teams will absolutely give up on a (road) Play-In (loss) for single-digit odds at the top pick.
Furthermore! Lottery improvement explanations must not include the phrase "and then." Make it one thing. Don't convolute, combine seasons, add math.
Less math, more rhymes. Don't relegate, celebrate. Every team gets the same lottery odds. Make it a large television broadcast fans from every market have major, massive interest tuning into.
The NBA has an unprecedented live event on its hands: Laker freaks to Charlotte hopefuls, Knicks and Celtics crossing fingers with Trail Blazers and Suns. A lottery that everyone actually cares about, deeply, in ways which stick around through commercial break after commercial break, past the revelation of the first 22 picks.
No league cares about The Posts more than the NBA, and think of The Posts! Add Seattle and Las Vegas, that's thirty different North American cities – markets!! – watching a lottery hopper turn like Kawhi's bouncer in Philadelphia.
Leonard's dance brought but one pair, Toronto and Philadelphia, the rest of us looking in on their party like creeps through a window. Imagine the entire NBA at the same party, once a year. Still want to trade first-round picks? Fine, we didn't want the Clippers at the party anyway. Too sweaty.
The NBA doesn't have to be like other sports because basketball isn't like other sports. This has always been the league drafting Oscar at No. 1 and Jerry West at No. 2 and Al Bunge with the best available at No. 7. We can't penalize each evening's seventh-worst record for trying to lose its way to better odds, away from Al Bunge and into Oscar. Especially with fans overwhelmingly cheering (if not enjoying) the approach.
Lose the incentive to lose.
I HAVE A NEW TV SHOW
'Baby ... I'm Back,' watched the first two episodes. I've now seen two more episodes of 'Baby ... I'm Back' than I have 'Game of Thrones' or 'Breaking Bad.'
It stars the lead witness the Cotton Club murder, plus Tootie, plus the "that's not a knife" kid, plus the nice lady from 'Heat of the Night.' Also the reason TV's Edd Hall had to add a superfluous "d" to his name and, most importantly, the '227'-neighbor from 'Don't Be a Menace.'
Helen Martin and Kim Fields steal each episode but cracks run deep through the cast, as do the noted character actors (worth looking up) in the second episode. The great Denise Nicholas outclasses everything she is in, even the classy stuff. This is a genuine, two-show, recommendation.
'Tenspeed and Brown Shoe,' also not bad, not great. 'Rockford'-adjacent right down to gumshoe jokes about $200 a day, all the tacos a PI can fold. Everyone in 1980 must have wondered why they gave Ben Vereen a show with the guy from Steely Dan.
MORE PUBLICITY AND ATTENTION FOR EX-NBA OWNERS
Not here.
T-SHIRT CANNON CHILL
First time at press row in 2025-26 for three games in March, Cleveland and Indianapolis, and I forgot about the cannons. Or the mini-parachutes, dropping dispassionately from the rafters. Or the mini-basketballs, impressively tossed by staff.
This stuff sometimes makes press row, sometimes beyond it, mostly in front of it. Some make it to our tables, though, and this is where we gotta stay cool. Can't be like you-know-who with the eagle in his office. Gotta trust your periphery.
You wouldn't freak out over a fake egg cracking and slowly running down your scalp, so don't make nightmare noises simply because a scratchy-cornered scratch-off Ohio Lottery ticket parachuted silently onto your large and prevailing bald spot.
These are the things I tell myself, when I'm supposed to be watching Kenny Atkinson interact with his charges.
WHEN THEY REPLACE YOUR CAR'S ENGINE
They don't move the mileage back on the dashboard. So now all my math has to start with 133,982. Still, we got CarPlay back, so,
LIVE YOUR LIFE AWAY
I've been in Los Angeles in February. Walked barefoot in the sand at Rockford's beach in Malibu, enjoyed All-Star Weekend. It was still February, though, even in Los Angeles.
If you enjoyed any part of this, consider subscribing. I am saving to drive the few thousand (plus 133,982) miles to the Finals in June. Thank you for reading!
