Welcome back to the Deep Dive. Today is Wednesday,
February 18th, 2026. And today we are heading
into the heart of the Midwest. We're going to
the Windy City. Chicago. Chicago. We are talking
about a team that, for people of a certain age,
really, they didn't just play basketball, they
were basketball. They were this, like, global...
cultural phenomenon, almost like the Beatles
and sneakers. We are talking, of course, about
the Chicago Bulls. Yeah, it's just impossible
to tell the story of the modern NBA without a
massive, massive chapter dedicated to the Bulls.
A huge chapter. Exactly. But the fascinating
thing about this deep dive, you know, looking
at this stack of research we have here, it's
the contrast. The contrast. How so? The extreme
highs and the... The confusing lows. You have
the absolute untouchable apex of the 1990s. The
dynasty. The dynasty that changed sports marketing,
that changed the global perception of the athlete.
I mean, it changed everything. And then you had
the roller coaster that followed. The rebuilding.
The baby bulls. The tragedy of the Derrick Rose
era. And then this sort of basketball purgatory
the franchise has been stuck in. more recently.
It is so wild when you lay it all out on a timeline.
It's almost like the statue of Michael Jordan
outside the United Center casts this massive
shadow that just blocks out the sun for everyone
who came after him. That's it. It's the burden
of expectation. I think that's really the theme
today. When your franchise is synonymous with
the greatest of all time, anything less than
a ring feels like an abject failure. That makes
sense. So our mission today is to unpack this
beast. We've got sources covering the history
from the very beginning, the founding in 1966,
all the way up to where we sit right now in February
2026. Yeah, a lot to cover. A lot. We're going
to look at how a team with a name that was, and
this is true, literally a joke. We'll get to
that built a dynasty. We're going to break down
the what ifs specifically around Derrick Rose.
And we're going to look at where they stand right
now, you know, in this post Levine era with a
young core trying to find its way. So we have
to start at the beginning. We have to start at
the beginning. 1966. The origin story. So the
Bulls weren't the first pro basketball team in
Chicago, right? I feel like I've heard of the
Stags or something. You have, yeah. The Bulls
were actually the third attempt to make pre -basketball
work in Chicago. First you had the Chicago Stags
in the 1940s. They actually made the very first
BAA finals, but then they folded. Wow, okay.
Then you had the Chicago Packers, who then became
the Zephyrs. In the early 60s, they were a total
disaster and ended up moving to Baltimore to
become the Bullets. So by 1966, the NBA was probably
a little hesitant about Chicago. Oh, they were
very wary. They just weren't sure it was a basketball
town. And then entered Dick Klein. Entered Dick
Klein. And he's a really interesting character
in NBA history because he's the only owner to
have actually played professional basketball.
Oh, I didn't know that. Yeah, he played for the
Chicago American Gears in the NBL. So he was
a basketball guy through and through, not just
some businessman writing checks. Right. So he
gets the franchise, he sets up shop, but he needs
a name. And this is, I think, my favorite anecdote
from the early days because it just feels so...
Uncorporate. Right. There's no branding committee.
Exactly. Today, you'd spend millions on focus
groups and consulting. Synergy. Back then, Klein
just wanted something that screamed Chicago.
And in the mid 60s, Chicago was still. You know,
the hog butcher for the world. It was the meatpacking
capital. The union stockyards were still a huge
part of the city's identity. So he's brainstorming.
He wants that connection to the industry. And
he's thinking about names. And from what I read,
he was absolutely dead set on a one syllable
name. He had his whole theory about it. He did.
He really believed that teams with three syllables
in their nickname never won championships. I
think he cited the Montreal Canadiens as like.
the only exception he could think of. That's
such a weirdly specific superstition. Isn't it?
So he's sitting there with his family and he's
pitching all these ideas and he's suggesting
names like the Matadors. Which is three syllables.
So he's already breaking his own rule. He's breaking
his own rule. Or the Toreadors. Can you even
imagine? And now you're Chicago Toreadors. It
just doesn't quite have the same ring to it.
Not at all. So he's pushing these names and they're,
I mean, they're kind of terrible. And the story
goes that his young son, Mark, is just sitting
there listening to all this livestock talk. And
finally, Mark just looks at his dad and says,
Dad, that's a bunch of bull. And boom, the light
bulb goes off. Dick Klein snaps his fingers and
says, That's it. The bulls. It wasn't a marketing
firm. It was just a kid roasting his dad. I absolutely
love that. And it led to what is, I think you
can argue, the most consistent brand in sports
history. I mean, you just look at the logo, that
red angry bull. Yeah. Designed by Dean P. Wessel.
And this is a key point for our deep dive. If
you look at almost any other NBA franchise, their
visual identity is. Like a kaleidoscope. Oh,
for sure. The Pistons have changed colors, what,
three times? The Hawks, the Bucks, the Sixers,
they all rebrand every decade just to try and
sell more jerseys. But not the Bulls. The Bulls
logo you see in 2026 is virtually identical to
the one from 1966. Same expression, same blood
-tipped horns. It is iconic. There's a real strength
in that consistency. It says, we don't need to
change. We are the Bulls. And, you know, unlike
most expansion teams, they didn't stink right
away. No, not at all. Usually an expansion team
is just, it's a donation of wins to the rest
of the league for like five years. Exactly. You
fully expect to lose 60 or 70 games. But the
Bulls were different. In that first season, 1866
-67, they went 33 -48. Okay, so a losing record.
But it was the best record by an expansion team
in NBA history at that time. And this is the
real kicker. They made the playoffs. They are
the only expansion team to qualify for the playoffs
in their very first year. That is actually wild.
Who were the guys making that happen? Because
obviously, you know, Jordan is still in diapers
at this point. Right. Well, you had Johnny Red
Kerr as the coach. He won coach of the year that
first season. You had Guy Rogers, who was this
wizard with the ball. He led the league in assists.
But the real soul of that team was a guy whose
jersey hangs in the rasters today. Jerry Sloan.
The original bowl. Jerry Sloan really set the
template for what Chicago basketball was supposed
to be. You know, before all the glamour of the
90s, Chicago basketball was blue collar. It was
elbows. It was defense. It was diving on the
floor for loose balls. Grit. Total grit. And
Sloan embodied that. And they had some real success
in the 70s, too. They weren't just a flash in
the pan. They had four straight 50 -win seasons.
There were guys like Bob Love, Chet Walker, Norm
Van Leer. They were a very, very good team. But
very good doesn't become a dynasty. No. They
kept hitting a ceiling. And that ceiling was
usually named Kareem Abdul -Jabbar and the Milwaukee
Bucks. Okay, yeah. Or the Golden State Warriors.
They got to the conference finals in 74 and 75,
but they just couldn't get over that final hump.
And by the late 70s... The wheels were starting
to come off. The franchise started to slide.
Badly. They were struggling to fill the old Chicago
stadium. Attendance was down. The team was getting
worse. They were basically relying on a coin
flip to save them. OK, let's talk about that
coin flip, because this is the first major what
if in our stack of sources. 1979. This is a moment
that completely changed the entire trajectory
of the NBA. In 1979, the draft rules were different
than they are today. The two teams with the worst
records in each conference would literally flip
a coin to see who got the number one overall
pick. Just a 50 -50 shot. The literal 50 -50
shot. And the prize that year. Magic Johnson.
Irvin Magic Johnson. So the Bulls are in the
room. The Lakers are in the room. They had the
pick from a trade with the Jazz. The coin goes
up in the air. And Rod Thorne, who was the Bulls
GM at the time, he calls heads. He calls tails.
The Lakers get the pick. They take Magic Johnson.
The Showtime Lakers are born right there in that
moment. And the Bulls pick. Second, who did they
end up with? David Greenwood. Yeah, look, to
be fair to David Greenwood, he was a solid NBA
player. Yeah. Had a good career, played for over
a decade, but he wasn't Magic Johnson. No, but
here's where it gets really interesting to me,
looking back. It sounds like a total disaster
for the Bulls at the time, but if they win that
coin flip... Right, let's play that out for a
second. If the Bulls get Magic Johnson in 1979,
they'd probably become a pretty good team almost
immediately. Magic was that good. Which means
they win too many games to be back in the lottery
in the early 80s. Exactly. If they have magic,
they're likely a playoff team in 1983 and 1984.
They are nowhere near the top of the draft board
in 1984. So losing that coin flip for Magic Johnson
was the necessary tragedy that allowed them to
be in a position to draft Michael Jordan five
years later. That's some serious butterfly effect
stuff. So, OK, let's fast forward to 1984, the
draft class that everybody knows. Hakeem Olajuwon
goes first to Houston. Which, even looking back
now, is a totally defensible pick. Hakeem is
a top 10 player of all time. He won two rings.
Houston doesn't regret that pick. Not at all.
But then, then we get to Portland. The Trailblazers
have the second pick, and they take Sam Bowie.
The pick that haunts an entire franchise to this
day. I mean, the logic was there, kind of. They
needed a center because they already had a great
shooting guard in Clyde Drexler. Right. It was
a classic case of drafting for need over best
available talent, and it burned them. Badly.
And then at number three, the Chicago Bulls select
Michael Jordan from the University of North Carolina.
And the world changes. But, you know, it didn't
change overnight into a championship team. Jordan
was incredible immediately, rookie of the year,
scoring like crazy. But the team itself wasn't
great yet. But there was a moment, 1986, the
God game. I feel like this is a moment where
the entire league realized, oh, wait, this guy
is different. That context here is just so key.
Jordan had missed most of his second season with
a broken foot. The Bulls front office actually
wanted him to sit out the rest of the year to
preserve his health. They were already kind of
thinking about tanking for a better draft pick.
Jordan fought them on it. He refused. He wanted
to play. He basically dragged that team into
the playoffs as the eighth seed. And their opponent
was the Boston Celtics. The 1986 Boston Celtics.
We're talking Larry Bird, Kevin McHale, Robert
Parrish, Bill Walton coming off the bench. Many
people think this is the single greatest basketball
team ever assembled. They went 40 -1 at home
that year. 40 -1. Unbelievable. And Jordan walks
into the Boston Garden for game two. And he drops
63 points. 63 in a playoff game against the best
defense in the league on their home court. And
it wasn't like he was hitting a bunch of threes.
It was just attacking the rim, mid -range jumpers,
free throws. He was possessed. The Bulls lost
the game in double overtime, but that didn't
even matter. Because of what Larry Bird said
afterwards. Larry Bird, who was the reigning
MVP and not exactly a guy who gave out compliments
easily, he said, I think it's just God disguised
as Michael Jordan. That's the chills moment right
there. But here's the thing about the late 80s
bulls, right? Jordan was God, but the team kept
losing to the bad boys. The Detroit Pistons.
And this is where we really need to talk about
the Jordan rules. Because people hear that phrase
now, and I think they just think it means double
team him. Yeah, it was a little more than that.
It was organized violence. It was a philosophy.
Chuck Daly, the Picton's coach, established a
very clear set of rules. If Jordan was on the
perimeter, you force him to his left. If he drove
to the basket, you put him on the ground. Not
foul him. No. Put him on the ground. Make him
bleed. Make him fear for his physical safety
every time he went into the paint. And it worked.
For a while. It worked for three straight years.
Yeah. They beat the Bulls in the 88 playoffs,
the 89 playoffs, and the 90 playoffs. Jordan
was just getting battered. Yeah. And this is
where Jerry Krause, the general manager, who
is a very complicated figure in this whole story,
this is where he deserves a lot of credit. He
realized Jordan couldn't win by himself. He needed
defense, and he needed length around him. He
needed help. So he starts making moves. In 1987...
He drafts Horace Grant. And on that same draft
night, he orchestrates a trade for a skinny,
unknown kid from central Arkansas named Scotty
Pippen. And then the coaching change. Doug Collins,
who Jordan personally loved, gets fired and in
comes Phil Jackson. Right. And Phil brings an
assistant coach with him named Tex Winter. And
they introduced something called the triangle
offense. OK, we need to pause on the triangle
because sports fans hear triangle offense and
we all kind of nod like we know what it means.
But why was it so revolutionary? Yeah, let's
unpack that. Because Jordan hated it at first.
He despised it. He called it an equal opportunity
offense. He just wanted the ball. Under Doug
Collins, the number one play was give Michael
the ball and get the hell out of the way. Right.
The triangle completely changed the geometry
of the court. How so? Exactly. Well, it sets
up a sideline triangle. So you typically have
the center in the low post, forward on the wing,
and a guard in the corner. The spacing is incredibly
precise. But the key is, it relies on reading
the defense. If the defense collapses on Jordan,
the system dictates that the ball must move to
the open man. So it takes the decision -making
out of Jordan's hands, in a way. Exactly. It
puts it into the system. It forced Jordan, for
the first time in his career, to truly trust
his teammates. And that trust was the missing
piece of the puzzle. It was everything. Once
Jordan finally bought in, or maybe just resigned
himself to it, the Bulls became completely unguardable.
You couldn't just throw two or three guys at
Jordan anymore because Pippen or Horace Grant
or John Paxson would be wide open and the ball
would find them. So 1991, we get to the Eastern
Conference Finals. It's the Bulls versus the
Pistons again. And this time, it's different.
The Bulls didn't just win. They swept them. 4
-0. The Bulls had all hit the weight room. They
were physically stronger. They took the hits
from Lane Beer and Rodman and kept coming. And
the Pistons just knew it was over. In the final
seconds of Game 4, Isaiah Thomas led the Pistons
starters off the court. walking right past the
Bulls bench without shaking hands. Which is still
a controversial move to this day. Oh, it was
a totally classless move, but it was so symbolic.
It signified the changing of the guard. The bad
boys era was dead. The Bulls era had just begun.
Then they go on to the finals and beat the Lakers.
Yeah. That's when Jordan does the famous hand
switch layup. Right. And he just weeps holding
the trophy. That image of him hugging the trophy.
His dad, James, right there next to him. That
was the release of seven years of criticism.
He's a scorer, not a winner. That whole narrative
died that night. Then they went again in 92 against
the Blazers. Then again in 93 against the Suns.
The first three -peat is complete. And we shouldn't
just gloss over how incredibly hard a three -peat
is. It's mentally and physically exhausting.
By the end of 1993, Jordan was just fried. And
then the tragedy. His father, James Jordan, is
murdered. It just broke him. He felt like he
had nothing left to prove in basketball. And
his rock, his anchor, was gone. So October 1993,
he announces his retirement. And goes to play
baseball. Which, looking back on it now, is one
of the most surreal chapters in all of sports
history. The greatest, most famous athlete in
the world, riding a bus. In the minor leagues
in Alabama. Just unbelievable. And the Bulls,
you know, they actually kept going. That 1993
-94 season, without Jordan, they won 55 games.
Scottie Pippen was a legitimate MVP candidate.
He was, but they lost in the playoffs to the
Knicks. They just, they missed their closer.
They missed the guy who takes the last shot.
Exactly. Then comes March 1995. The facts. Two
words. I'm back. He returns. He's wearing number
45. He drops 55 points on the Knicks at Madison
Square Garden. The famous double nickel game.
But they lose in the playoffs. To the Orlando
magic. And that loss to Orlando was so crucial.
Jordan looked rusty. He looked human. People
were whispering that he'd lost a step, that he
was done. And he took that personally. Oh, he
took that very personally. He spent the entire
summer of 95 filming the movie Space Jam. But
he had them build a full -size air -conditioned
gym on the Warner Brothers lot. He trained like
an absolute maniac. Which sets the stage for
the 1995 -96 season, the greatest team of all
time. I think so. It's hard to argue against
it. 72 wins, 10 losses. That record stood for
20 years. It did, until the Warriors broke it.
But, you know, the Warriors didn't win the title
that year. The Bulls finished the job. But the
key to this team wasn't just Jordan being back
and Pippen being great. It was the third guy.
Dennis Rodman. The worm. Jerry Krause traded
Will Perdue, a backup center for Dennis Rodman.
And at a time it was considered a massive risk,
Rodman was eccentric. That is maybe the most
polite way to put it. The hair, the piercings,
wearing a wedding dress to his own book signing.
A whole thing. But on the court, he was a genius.
A rebounding savant. He didn't want to score.
He didn't care about scoring. He just wanted
to rebound and defend. He said he would study
the rotation of the ball on other players' shots
to know exactly where the rebound would go. The
defense on that team was just suffocating. Think
about this for a second. Jordan, Pippen, and
Rodman. were all named to the NBA All -Defensive
First Team that year. Three guys from the same
team. That had never happened before and hasn't
happened since. If you're an opposing offense,
where do you go? There's nowhere to go. You have
the greatest perimeter defender ever in Pippen,
the greatest competitor ever in Jordan, and the
greatest rebounder ever in Rodman. It was a complete
meat grinder. They just steamrolled the entire
league. They beat the Seattle Supersonics in
the finals. Then they turn around and beat the
Utah Jazz in 97. That was the flu game. Which
we now know is probably food poisoning from a
bad pizza in Park City, Utah. Yeah. But the pizza
game doesn't sound quite as heroic, does it?
No, it doesn't. And then we get to 1998, the
last dance. The tension around that team was
off the charts. Jerry Krause had already publicly
said that Phil Jackson was not coming back as
coach the next year, even if they went 82 -smell.
Unbelievable. Pippen was furious about his contract
and was demanding a trade. It was a team that
was being held together by pure spite and greatness.
Game six, in Utah, the final minute. This sequence
is, it's just basketball perfection. The Bulls
are down by one. Carl Malone has the ball in
the post, guarded by Rodman. Jordan sneaks up
behind him. Doesn't gamble. Just waits for the
perfect moment and just swipes the ball clean.
He comes down the court. No timeout. Everyone
in the building, everyone on the planet knows
he's taking the shot. He drives to his right,
gives Brian Russell a little nudge, a little
push off. A veteran move. A veteran move. He
stomps on a dime. Russell slides past him and
he just rises up. The pose, the follow through,
swish. It's the ultimate mic drop in sports history.
It is. He holds the follow through for just a
second. The Bulls win by one. Sixth title. Second
three -peat. And then the screen goes black on
the dynasty. The dismantling. It was so immediate,
wasn't it? It was brutal. Jordan retires again.
Phil Jackson leaves and goes on a motorcycle
trip across the country. Pippen is traded to
Houston. Rodman is released. In just a matter
of months, they went from the greatest team in
history to a roster of guys like Brent Berry
and Randy Brown. And this kicks off what I like
to call the Dark Ages, the Baby Bulls era. It
was a really rough decade for the fans. They
were constantly trying to chase the next Jordan.
They drafted Elton Brand, who was a great player,
but he wasn't a franchise savior. They drafted
Tyson Chandler and Eddie Curry straight out of
high school. The Twin Towers. Which never really
worked out. They had Jay Williams, the college
phenom from Duke, who had that tragic motorcycle
accident that ended his career before it really
started. It just felt like the franchise was
cursed. Until 2008, the lottery miracle. This
is another one of those statistical anomalies
that just seems impossible. The Bulls had been
mediocre that year, but not the worst team in
the league. They only had a 1 .7 % chance of
winning the number one pick. Less than 2%. Less
than 2%. And somehow, the ping pong balls bounced
their way. And it just so happened that in that
year's draft, there was a kid from the south
side of Chicago. Derrick Rose from Simeon High
School. It felt like it was written in the stars.
They draft him. He's instantly great, wins Rookie
of the Year. And suddenly, the United Center
is loud again. There's a buzz back in the city.
And then Tom Thibodeau arrives as coach in 2010.
And Thibs brought that defensive intensity back
to Chicago. We talked about the triangle. We
should probably talk about Thibs' defense. He
introduced a scheme that became known as ICE.
Okay, explain ICE for us. So basically, in a
pick -and -roll, instead of the defending guards
switching or trying to fight over the screen,
He forces the ball handler away from the screen
towards the sideline, towards the ice. It effectively
uses the sideline as an extra defender and keeps
the ball out of the middle of the floor. It revolutionized
NBA defense for a few years. Then on offense,
he had Derrick Rose. Rose was... Violent. I think
that's the only word for it. He attacked the
rim with a speed and a power that we had just
never seen from a point guard before. He was
a blur. In 2011, he becomes the youngest MP in
the history of the NBA. The Bulls win 62 games.
They make it to the Eastern Conference Finals.
It really felt like the start of a new dynasty.
They were set to battle the Heedles, LeBron,
Wade, and Bosh for the next decade. And then
April 28, 2012. I remember exactly where I was
when this happened. Every single Bulls fan does.
Game one of the playoffs against the 76ers. The
Bulls are up by 12 with about a minute left in
the game. Rose is, for some reason, still in
the game. He does a little hop step in the lane.
Yeah. And just crumbles. The silence in that
arena was deafening. You could hear a pin drop,
torn ACL. And in that one moment, the championship
window just slammed shut. It is the biggest what
if in Chicago sports history. Maybe all of sports.
If Rose stays healthy, do they beat LeBron? Do
they win a title? We'll never know for sure.
But the tragedy is that the very way Rose played,
that violent explosive torque he put on his body,
was probably unsustainable. The human body just
has limits. So Rose goes into this awful cycle
of rehab and re -injury. And in that vacuum,
a new star emerges. Jimmy Butler. Which was a
total surprise. Jimmy was the 30th pick in the
draft, a defensive specialist for Marquette.
But he willed himself into a superstar through
sheer hard work. He became the face of the team.
But the vibes were bad. The vibes were very bad.
The front office Gar Foreman and John Paxson,
who the fans called Gar Pax, were constantly
feuding with Fibideau. They eventually fired
Fibs, which was really unpopular. Then they traded
Rose to the Knicks. And then finally they traded
Butler in 2017, a full teardown. And just to
close the loop on Derrick Rose, because this
is a recent development for our listeners here
in 2026, on January 24th of this year, just a
few weeks ago, the Bulls finally retired Derrick
Rose's number one jersey. It was a really emotional
night, and it was the right thing to do. He didn't
bring a ring to Chicago. But he brought hope
back. And for a few years, he made Chicago the
center of the basketball world again. He absolutely
deserved to have his jersey in the rafters. I
totally agree. So Butler gets traded to Minnesota
in 2017. And the return package for him really
defines the next era. They get Zach Levine, Chris
Dunn, and a draft pick that became Laurie Mark
Cannon. The official rebuild. And it was messy.
You had the Jim Boylan coaching era, which was
an absolute disaster. Players were threatening
mutiny. It was bad. 2020, new management finally
comes in, Arturis Karnasovas and Mark Eversley,
and they decide to push their chips in and try
to win now. They trade for Nikola Vucevic, they
sign DeMar DeRozan, they get Lonzo Ball and Alex
Caruso. The DeBalzac era is born. It's a funny
name, but for a minute there, it really worked.
It worked beautifully. In January of 2022, the
Bulls were the number one seed in the Eastern
Conference. Lonzo Bull was the connective tissue
of that team. He threw the perfect outlet passes.
He played elite defense. The chemistry was incredible.
But then the knee. Lonzo hurts his knee. And
initially they thought it was just a minor meniscus
tear, you know, back in 68 weeks. It was not
six to eight weeks. No, it turned into an absolute
nightmare for him. He had multiple surgeries.
He got to the point where he needed a meniscus
transplant. Which just sounds like science fiction.
It's a donor meniscus from a cadaver. It's a
massive, extremely rare procedure for a professional
athlete. He ended up missing two full seasons.
And without him, the Bulls just fell apart. Yeah,
the chemistry was gone. They didn't have a true
point guard. DeRozan and Levine were scoring
a ton of points, but the defense just collapsed.
The whole thing just kind of stagnated. And they
entered play -in purgatory. Which is the absolute
worst place to be in the NBA. For three straight
years, 2023, 2024, and 2025, they finished either
9th or 10th. They would win their first play
-in game and then lose the second one to the
Miami Heat. It was like Groundhog Day every single
year. You're not good enough to compete for a
title, but you're not bad enough to get a top
draft pick. You were just there, struck in the
middle. Which brings us to the major shakeup
that finally happened about a year ago, February
2025, the end of the Zach Levine era. It had
to happen. It was clear the relationship had
run its course. On February 2, 2025... The Bulls
traded Zach Levine to the Sacramento Kings. Let's
look at that trade. Because at the time, people
were, I think they were pretty underwhelmed.
The Bulls got back Zach Collins, Trey Jones,
Kevin Herter, and a first -round pick. Right.
It wasn't a blockbuster return. They didn't get
a young superstar back for him. But you have
to look at the salary cap sheet. Levine was making
over $40 million a year. Moving that contract
was the asset. It was addition by subtraction.
Exactly. It allowed the Bulls to finally pivot.
and have some financial flexibility. They also
made other moves. They traded Alex Caruso to
OKC for Josh Giddey. And DeMar DeRozan ended
up going to the Kings, too, in free agency. So
the band really, truly broke up. Completely.
A hard reset. And now when we look at the roster
for this 2025 -2026 season, the season we're
in right now, it's a weird mix of guys. It is.
You have Josh Giddey running the point. He's
a great passer, but a very shaky shooter. You
have Kobe White, who has really blossomed into
a legitimate scorer. You have Patrick Williams,
who is still trying to figure out if he's a star
or just a role player. And the rookie, Matas
Bouzelis. Yeah, drafted 11th overall. He's shown
some flashes. You know, honestly, it is just
heartwarming to see Lonzo Ball back on the court,
even in a limited role, after everything he went
through. Oh, for sure. But let's be real about
their performance. They finished last season
39 -43. They're hovering around .500 right now.
They aren't contenders. No, not even close. They
are still searching. They're searching for that
alpha. That guy. They don't have a Jordan. They
don't have a Rose. They have a collection of
nice, solid pieces. Let's shift gears a little
bit before we wrap up. We've talked history.
We've talked the roster. But we have to talk
about the culture. Because the Bulls brand is
so specific. And it all starts with the music.
Serious by the Alan Parsons Project. Da -da -da.
Da -da -da. Just hearing it, my heart rate goes
up. It might be the single most recognizable
sports intro in the entire world. And it's a
complete accident. Tommy Edwards, the stadium
announcer, heard it in movie theater in the 80s
and just thought, hey, this builds tension pretty
well. And then you pair it with the Running of
the Bulls video intro. Which evolved over the
years. In the 90s, it was those early CGI graphics
of bulls running through downtown Chicago. And
they would always end by smashing the opposing
team's bus. I always loved that part. Just absolutely
totaling the Knicks bus on the screen. And then
the lights go completely out in the stadium.
The spotlight hits the floor. And Ray Clay, the
announcer from North Carolina, at guard. 6 '6",
Michael Jordan. Opposing players used to say
that by the time the intros were over, they felt
like they were already down 10 -0. It was psychological
warfare. Another tradition, the black shoes.
This started back in the 1989 playoffs. The whole
team decided to wear black shoes as a sign of
unity. Back then, pretty much everyone in the
league wore white shoes. So it looked menacing.
It looked different, like they were a team of
assassins. Except for that one time MJ broke
the rule, of course. Of course. The 1995 playoffs,
when he came back from baseball, he debuted the
Air Jordan Icky Conchords, those beautiful white
patent leather shoes. He got fined by the league
for not matching his teammates. But they looked
so good, nobody really cared. We have to mention
the rivalries, too. Because you don't win six
rings without making a lot of enemies. Oh, yeah.
The Pistons or the Blood Feud. That was personal.
That was hatred. But the Knicks in the 90s, those
playoff series were just wars. Patrick Ewing,
John Starks, Charles Oakley, they met in the
playoffs almost every single year. It was a rock
fight every time. And the Cavs? Poor Cleveland.
I mean, first Jordan hits the shot over Craig
L. Lowe in 89 to eliminate them. Then fast forward
to the modern era and you have LeBron James playing
for Cleveland, eliminating the Derrick Rose Bulls
over and over again. It's a rivalry of repeated
heartbreak for one side. And more recently, the
Miami Heat. The Heat are the modern villains
for the Bulls. First, the Big Three, with LeBron
and Wade blocking Rose's path to the finals.
And then Jimmy Butler, a former Bull, joining
the Heat and personally eliminating Chicago in
the play -in tournament three years in a row.
It's poetic, but it's cruel. So bringing this
all back together, we've gone from Dick Klein's
son saying that's a bunch of Bull, to the GOAT,
to the Rose tragedy, to the DeBalzac what -if,
and now to this new uncertain era in 2026. It
really is a franchise defined by its ghosts.
That's exactly the feeling I get from all this.
They've experienced the highest highs that are
possible in sports. Six championships in eight
years. Two three -peats. The greatest player
to ever live. But they have spent the last 28
years trying and failing to recreate that magic.
And that's the big question for them moving forward,
isn't it? Is that legacy a foundation to build
on or is it a ceiling you can never break through?
I think it's both. It's a foundation because
it makes the brand global. You can go anywhere
in the world, Paris, Beijing, Rio, and you'll
see someone in a Bulls hat. But it's a ceiling
because every team is compared to the 96 Bulls.
Every star player is compared to Jordan. Derrick
Rose came the closest. He had the city in the
palm of his hand. But his body betrayed him.
Jimmy Butler tried. Zach Levine put up huge numbers.
But nobody could live up to the ghost of number
23. And now, with Levine officially gone, and
this young group led by guys like Giddy and Buscelli's,
The cycle kind of resets. They aren't contenders
yet. But for the first time in a long time, there
isn't one designated savior on the roster who
is failing to deliver a title. It's a clean slate.
But the statue is still there. The statue is
always there. So here's a provocative thought
to leave you with as we wrap this up. We always
talk about the Bulls needing to find the next
Jordan to be great again. But maybe that's the
entire problem. Maybe the only way the Bulls
can truly move forward is to stop looking for
a singular godlike figure to save them and instead
build a team that wins despite not having one.
But as long as that number 23 hangs in the rafters
and that statue stands outside. I just don't
know if that's psychologically possible for that
city and that franchise. It's the curse of greatness.
Good feels like failure when you've already tasted
perfection. That does it for our deep dive into
the Chicago Bulls. From the coin flip to the
dynasty to the constant rebuilds. Thanks for
listening and we'll catch you on the next one.