Drink: Chivas Regal, Rocks
“You guys are in store for a lot more championships,” so said Michael Jordan, referring to the current Chicago Bulls team, while he said a word or two after the 1990-91 team was honored for their 20th anniversary at halftime tonight. Since the time of non-believers coming around and giving this team some cred, it has been a question that has been raised ever-more seriously: Can the Bulls actually take the crown this year?
The year started with people questioning if the Bulls could secure the Central. Get this, boys and girls, many pre-season predictions had the Milwaukee Bucks taking the Central. The Bucks are 20.5 games behind the Bulls at time of post. Next was: Can the Bulls possibly win the East? Since the turn of the New Year, more and more analyst, former players, and people who someone will stick a mic in front of have given the Bulls their nod to represent the East in the NBA Finals. Naturally, the next question is: Can the Bulls win the whole sha-bang, kit and kaboodle? Well, more and more are thinking so… such as one greatest-player-to ever-play-the-game.
Are there limits? Well, as good as MVP front runner, Derrick Rose, is, he needs to realize that his three ball has to be used sparingly. He definitely has improved from long distance, but he is still not a three point shooter. What I mean is that Rose should be shooting his three when he is open. Every time he gets hot, he inevitably takes the rushed three, that Stacey King kindly calls a “heat check.” I think I have yet to see one of these drop this season. But, granted, this is a nit picking.
Oh hell bells, there was a game tonight! And it started with a Rose three-point outburst, then a forced three (missed), then a few more three balls from America’s MVP. Beyond the head-scratching move of starting Danny Glover over Taj Gibson, the first quarter was a good time to be a Bulls fan, as the Bulls tied the East leaders, Boston, in the Eastern Conference standings. Things were not so fortunate if you were a Jazz fan. This thing was a disaster, a massacre in the first for Utah (and even with some defensive laziness by the Bulls, it continued as such).
It is so short and jumbled and jangled, Sam, because there is nothing intelligent to say about a massacre. Everybody is supposed to be dead, to never say anything or want anything ever again. Everything is supposed to be very quiet after a massacre, and it always is, except for the birds. And what do the birds say? All there is to say about a massacre, things like “Poo-tee-weet?”