I never would have guessed that after the Hornets, I’d become a Chicago Bulls fan. Because my grandfather hated the Lakers and thus rooted for the Bulls, thus so did I. I didn’t know back then that Jordan and Pippen would steal my L.A. soul like Johnson, Bogues and Mourning before them, that they’d become the bedrock of my very own play style during the formative years of my adolescence, when making friends in junior high meant winning lunchtime basketball games. It didn’t occur to me that while watching the Bulls eviscerate my hometeam Lakers, rookie number 8 (Jordan without the patience and discipline) would catch my eager eye. I had no idea that, from that moment on, I’d be a fan of the Bulls AND the Lakers simultaneously. That I’d hone my jumpshot from studying Kobe after Jordan picked up a baseball bat.