Bowing Down to the Golden Calf

This blog is far from objective; in fact it's main goal is to be unobjective, to sear, to masticate, to roar with lions' jowls at aches and pains received daily from the ineptitude of Chicago sports teams. Much to my delight, however, there hasn't been too many things to cry about lately; the White Sox are a year removed from a championship, the Bears are the best team in the NFC if not all of football, Notre Dame is headed to a BCS bowl with an outside shot at the championship, the Blackhawks were playing well until bitten by the injury bug, and even the Cubs made a joyful noise unto their fans with the free agent signing of Alfonso Soriano.

Then there's the Bulls, the team I drink the Kool-Aid from more often than not.

As it stands, the team is 3-7. They have no offense to speak of, the defense is in shambles and the prized rookie, Tyrus Thomas, is getting less than 10 minutes a game. And I can't find a word to say about them.

Yes, I feel hypnotized or mesmorized or brainwashed by the dealings of John Paxson. He put together a team that looked to be a winner, he put together a team that no one should score any points against, he put together a team that had Chicago embracing it before a single game was played. And I prostrated myself just as much as the next person.

So far, Ben Wallace is even money or maybe a little on the bust side. His contributions in the defensive post have been nice and his hustle for offensive boards have helped the Bulls win the three games they've won, but where's the fear he's supposed to strike into opponent's hearts? Smush Parker sure wasn't afraid of Ben when he posterized him the other day. Smush Parker?!?! The free throw shooting we expected, the inability to hold the ball like Tyson Chandler we didn't. Maybe Pax was sold a bag of rocks and has tried to sell it off as a bundle of roses to the fans. You can keep it, Pax.

I'd like to introduce Tyrus Thomas to former draft pick of the Bulls, Marcus Fizer. Here's what happens when you play out of control, Tyrus. You lose minutes, the coach's good graces, teammates' trust and eventually the fans' trust too. You get booed, become a malcontent, and suddenly you're on the inactive list more than you're off it. You care less cuz it seems everyone's against you, don't practice as hard, and one day when you finally get a chance, karma bites you in the ass and you get injured. You spend the next year working your tail off to make it back, but by that time the next flavor of the month has arrived and you're shipped off to the d-league to flounder in anonymity for the rest of your career all while wondering how you're gonna feed the five mouths your family has suddenly grown. I already see the question mark of your game, Tyrus. Just don't' go get it as a tattoo or I'll really be scared.

When did Kirk Hinrich become such a whiner? Just cuz he played well with the national team over the summer doesn't mean he's getting any more recognition now. Sure, he may be friends with LeBron, D-Wade and the rest, but he isn't getting their love anytime soon from the referees. And stop dribbling the ball so damn much and attack the hoop.

The steal of the century, Viktor Khrayapa, has been as advertised -- the Krap-man. Slower feet than Darius Songalia, less jumpers than Antonio Davis, matador defense like Eddy Curry; did John Paxson take all the bad traits of recent players and mix them into one batch to produce this guy?

Chris Duhon -- it should have been this Dookie point guard flying through the air off a motorcycle instead of the other one.

And now for the true enigma of the Chicago Bulls, Ben Gordon. He's not exactly someone I'd like to meet in a dark alley, he might try to sell me bubble bath or something. For as strong a body as the 6' 3" guard has, he plays like Snuggle in the rinse cycle. And the dumb turnovers. But most annoying of all? He'll catch a pass with a wide open shot, and he'll pump fake drawing a defender or two. For as good a shooter as Ben Gordon is, he's doesn't seem to wanna ever catch and shoot. It's always catch, pump fake, drive; or catch, pump fake, spin, travel; or catch, pump fake, dribble, turnover; never a simple John Paxson-like or Craig Hodges-like catch and shoot. The raw spot in the middle of my desk is from the pounding of my forehead everytime Ben catches the ball.

Some niceties here. As I've said before, Thabo Sefolosha is a steal. While he needs a jumper, he's fearless, a good defender and ballhander, and has a better NBA game already than Duhon. And Luol Deng can be a monster. I actually think he's a power forward in a small forward body. If he can work on a post game, the Bulls needs in the post may be solved.

But I'm done with my Mariotti diatribe. I love the Chicago Bulls, more than any other Chicago team around, so when I'm told one thing and shown another, I feel a little hoodwinked. Then again, it's only ten games, and the Bulls have started slow each of the last two seasons only to make a charge into the playoffs. At least Scott Skiles has a plan, but what that plan is I'm not sure. For now I'll just have to keep bowing to the golden calf and hope it grows into a charging Bull.