NBA Preview, Part One: Bulls and Heat

"There are a bunch of weirdos in the league," -- Trey Kerby, The Basketball Jones.


Just how interesting is the NBA this year? We can't even cover it in one post. Bulls and Heat today, since nothing else actually matters. Queensbridge, what!

First, Bulls

The first Bulls game post-The Summer of 2010 began with a starting lineup that featured both Taj Gibson and Keith Bogans. If you're wondering why there were approximately 15 Bulls posts a week on TUP in June and July, but none since Carlos Boozer got divorced, punched a wall, and broke his hand, well, your answer lies squarely in that first sentence.

Injuries to star athletes is always a sobering ordeal for people like you and me, and Boozer's hand was no different. It hit like a stomach punch.

After The Decision was made and everything was set, the Bulls spent the late summer floating along on positive vibes. This, in itself, is sort of amazing if you really force yourself to examine the past. On July 25, World Wide Wes declared "We're going to Chicago, and Chris Bosh is coming, too" and the pronoun in that quote refers to, you know it, LeBron James. How we went from that moment of ecstasy to Boozer and a bunch of solid-if-uninspiring role players continues to remain a blur. That's the thing with experiencing disappointment in anything you're truly invested in: it's a hit-and-run, and the exact details of the past are nothing more than woozy, clouded memories.

Sitting here today, it seems impossible that these Bulls were on the precipice of a dynastic tear. Wesley couldn't have said that, we couldn't have believed it. It seems false. For our sustained happiness and mental health, we needed to convince ourselves of this slightly-altered reality.  I'd say it worked. It had to. Only losers waste time bemoaning a squandered opportunity.


The Bulls would go on to rebound in free agency and so did the fans. Chicago talked itself into the group John Paxson and Gar Forman waited two years to compose and it's easy to see why. It's a young, likable group, one that promises just as much excitement as sound play. This will be the best Bulls team since Michael Jordan retired, even without Boozer until December.

Three of the principle pieces - Rose, Noah, Deng - we're drafted, developed, and secured. The rest of the parts were added through diligent study, not reckless, off-the-cuff maneuvering. In the fairy tale world of sports, this is how you build a championship team. The Bulls did it Larry Brown-style: The Right Way. There's something to be said for that, especially when it comes to converting local casuals who think of the NBA as nothing more than a fringe sports which partially interrupts Bears season. And make no mistake, these people matter. The die-hards will always be there, of course. To truly create an atmosphere of impending success, to get the buzz any upstart requires, you have to suck-in those on the borderline. The Bulls, all things considered, appeared to have pulled that off. People care about the Bulls right now. It hasn't always been that way.

When the sun sets, there will only be basketball. Forget about the existence of Maverick Carter, abolish your blog archives. When these Bulls take the court, they will be good. They will rebound, they will compete, and they'll be directed by far more capable hands than last season.  Maybe we're not staring a dynasty straight in the eye, but we're staring at something. Finally.

624 words on the Miami Heat



I think Lovie Smith is a good football coach. The Yankees have won our MLB favoritism the last two seasons. Rajon Rondo is among my favorite contemporary human beings. Deep down, I believe the Miami Heat will win 70 games, and, at minimum, three or four championships over the next five seasons.

If you read this site with any bit of regularly, or, better yet, know me personally, the paragraph above is nothing new. It's practically the TUP mission statement, and I'm thinking about getting it tattooed on my back. When stated so plainly, however, I fear it makes us look like Skip Bayless. This troubles me tremendously. If TUP is remembered for anything at all, I want it to be for the Seventh Floor Crew, and not for me as an unruly contrarian. 

At the surface, we probably don't even need this section of the preview. I could come up with some faulty projected standings, or, better yet, we could ignore the Heat altogether. I don't want to write about how transcendent I firmly believe Miami will be, and you don't want to read it. You don't want to read it because you hate the Heat. I know this because, if you're reading this, you're alive and functional, and anyone who meets those two critical criteria knows that the Miami Heat are to be loathed with every fiber of one's being. But I want to make one thing clear: just because I can't shake the feeling that everything Jeff Van Gundy says is scripture doesn't mean I'm rooting for it. I'm with you: I can't stand this troupe, and I wish it nothing but the worst. I just can't hide my real feelings.

Amid all of the cluttered chaos this collection has caused since its inception, the most crucial question seems to be "is this good for basketball?". I suppose it's a double-edged sword. There has never been a more highly anticipated sports season in my 23-year lifetime than this NBA one, and the Heat are responsible for 95 percent of that. I just think it's going to get real old real quick for everyone, and that the league will soon realize it's a race for second unless the model the Heat used is replicated elsewhere. And, with things like the collective bargaining agreement on the horizon, who knows if that replication is even a real possibility. Our despair could be eternal.

Here lies the only real problem with the Miami Heat: if you root for another team, it feels hopeless. I don't care about Reilly showing LeBron his rings during the pitch, I don't care about how flawed the television special was. I just want the Bulls to win a championship with Derrick Rose, and the existence of the Heat makes me think it's never going to happen.

There's so much more to talk about here: LeBron's view on legacy, how all of this has turned Kobe and Boston into sympathetic figures, the NBA turning into a players-led league of bros, the possibility of this happening here or in New York sometime soon. I just don't want a discussion to break out over whether or not the Heat will be any good, especially now that we know their first two results.

We will not find out if the Heat are good this season or over the next five. What we're going to find out is whether the Heat are better than The Beatles. Because that's what LeBron, Wade, and Bosh are competing against here: not other basketball teams, but other entities of historical greatness. If the 2008-2009 Cavs could win 66 games with Anderson Varejao acting as LeBron's best teammate, imagine what he's going to do now that he's paired with his closest equal in Wade.

OK, enough. Back next week with nine others teams of interest.