I love the Chicago Bulls.
"Thank you Captain Obvious." If you follow me on Twitter (which you shouldn't, I'm not that interesting) or have spent any time with me in recent months, you already know that I am in love with the 2010/2011 Chicago Bulls. I've publicly announced that A. Luol Deng and I are an on-again off-again couple, 2. I would do almost anything for court-side seats, and III. I don't understand how anyone could love any sport more than basketball. It's time to explain WHY.
The rumor is that I'm a fair-weather fan. I understand why some might say that. Until this year you have never heard me be so vocal about this franchise, so it must be this year's winning record, right? Negative. I went to five games last year. I was at their last pre-season game in October with my "Luol Deng..." sign ready to rock. I've been 100% since day -1. In fact, despite living in St. Louis for four winters (a town that desperately needs a basketball team), I've been to at least one game every year for the last eight seasons. I truly love the Bulls. But why?
When I was little the Chicago Bulls were a huge part of my life.
I don't remember watching any sport other than basketball during my childhood. My dad moved here from Boston in the mid-80s; from Bird to Jordan. Basketball was his sport therefore it was my sport and the sport my youngest brother would become addicted to. It was fast, exciting, down-to-the-last-second action we could barely keep up with but somehow understood.
I went to games with my dad to watch MJ through binoculars from the 300 level of the Chicago Stadium, and later the United Center. I lived for that moment when the lights went out and the music kicked in, the thumping bass started pounding in my chest... "Annndd noooww. The starting line-up. For your CHICAGO BULLS!" To this day it gives me chills. You can still feel the energy of those years in the building. The history is alive and well in the UC.
In the early 90s this town was all about Michael Jordan and the dream team. Chicago was basketball; basketball was Chicago. June would arrive and with it the finals. I wasn't always allowed to stay up to watch, but I couldn't sleep. I'd lie in bed by the open window and wait. If and when we won, young fans would drive up and down the streets of the suburbs honking their horns and cheering. Listening to that glorious sound floating on the warm, early summer breeze is one of the most vivid memories I have from my childhood.
So maybe that's it; I'm nostalgic. But I think there is also something about basketball in general that I love. Football and baseball move too slowly for me. The stop/start nature drives me crazy. And soccer and hockey are no good; you have to wait forever for the score to change. Basketball is simple and quick and if you turn away for even a second you will miss something. You never know what's going to happen. How heartbreaking is it to be winning for four quarters only to lose by one point? How thrilling is it to win by one in the last split second of the game? So much emotion and movement and strategy and athleticism. I LOVE THIS GAME!
For me it's about a lot of things, but it is definitely not about fair-weather. It's about embracing something that has lived inside me for as long as I can remember. It's about the thrill and the beauty and kicking ass up and down the court. It's Derrick Rose, Boozer, Noah's hair. It's about hitting that three-ball at the buzzer to win in double overtime sending the crowd into a frenzy.
And this year, lets be honest, it's a little bit about Stacey King. "Too big, too strong, too fast... too good." Go Bulls.
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