The Bulls have been making me miserable lately. And because my brain is weird, I have dreamed up the opening scene to the musical Les Misera-Bulls.
The Larry O'Brien trophy isn't the only thing driving this year's playoff field. There are deeper driving forces beneath the surface, and Derek has uncovered them all just in time for tip-off.
Lee Jenkins is in the house.
Jimmy Butler is grocery store security guard, Officer Buckets.
John Wall is insane.
Luol Deng won the J. Walter Kennedy Citizenship Award, which should serve as some small consolation amid a season that has, to be frank, sucked for him.
Against all odds, yet again, by some means, the Chicago Bulls are here. 47-33, heading into the playoffs with home court advantage for the fourth year in a row. And of course, Derrick Rose is sidelined. Aaaaagain.
The aftermath of the Luol Deng trade is starting to set in… and I don't like it. Not one bit.
They say a wise man hopes for the best but prepares for the worst. Or if they don't, I do. Similarly, a foolish man ignores the worst and prepares for the best, secure in his own superiority.
I am a foolish man.
15-Footer time! 11 games, including an ESPN doubleheader. What a great way to spend a Friday evening, right? ...right?!