Structured to Fail
Whoever takes Jimmy Butler’s spot as face of the franchise is in serious trouble.
The Bulls are rebuilding. As weird as that is to finally type and come to grips with, for the next couple of seasons the Bulls will move from basketball purgatory to the depths of basketball hell. The downpour is just starting and Bulls’ fans will slowly come to realize that they weren’t prepared for rain. The wish of some for Chicago management to finally pull the plug and start over will be much more painful once they realize one simple truth — no matter who’s on this team, the current management group and franchise culture is crippling.
Jimmy Butler shared some interesting thoughts with the Chicago Sun-Times after being traded:
“It doesn’t mean a damn thing,’’ the three-time All-Star told the Sun-Times in a phone interview from Paris on Friday. “I guess being called the face of an organization isn’t as good as I thought. We all see where being the so-called face of the Chicago Bulls got me. So let me be just a player for the Timberwolves, man. That’s all I want to do. I just want to be winning games. Do what I can for my respective organization and let them realize what I’m trying to do.
“Whatever they want to call me … face … I don’t even want to get into that anymore. Whose team is it? All that means nothing. You know what I’ve learned? Face of the team, eventually you’re going to see the back of his head as he’s leaving town, so no thanks.’’
It’s clear that all of the “whose team is it?” talk got to Butler eventually. These quotes point to two men in charge that have allowed Chicago’s culture to shift dramatically — Gar Forman and John Paxson. Face of the franchise talk is shallow and annoying, but if an organization is transparent and healthy, it’s chatter that shouldn’t come to fruition.
While Butler’s remarks are filled with frustration, there is a lot of truth beneath the surface. Ever since Butler’s rise, the question has always been whether or not he could be the face of a franchise. The different narratives that surrounded Butler throughout his time in Chicago never seemed to end. Whether it was a supposed beef with Derrick Rose, calling out teammates, or stating that the team needed to be coached harder after Tom Thibodeau’s departure, peace and tranquility was never palpable while Butler was around — even though it should have been.
Butler should be subject to blame for some of the drama, however, the real instigators of most of the controversy are the guys at the top. The state of the organization has been in limbo for some time, the lack of awareness by scouts, the secret nature of the front office, a group that displays incompetence when negotiating deals involving their best player are just a few examples to suggest that there is something seriously wrong. The list goes on, but whoever is the so-called face of this franchise moving forward is setup to fail.
With this rebuild, management has bought themselves time. Time that will produce little fruit, and leave the franchise in even more of a disarray than before. The Butler trade is on them, the inability to conform to where the league is at is on them, and the infrastructure that this team has set up will continue to crack.
Players see through those cracks, which will eventually, one day, by the grace of God, turn into a gaping hole. Hopefully, one that is so big that ownership notices and is able to come to grips that their franchise is in a very bad place. These holes can’t be filled with playoff revenue, grit, Iowa State alum or even an eventual lottery pick. The only way to fix mistakes is to accept that you’ve made them, which is something that the Bulls fail to realize over and over again.
Culture is felt, not taught, it’s time to knock down the framework and create something new. An environment that is palpable, authentic, and one that you don’t have to get caught up in the conversation about whose team it is.
It’s time to stop talking and start feeling again. At this point, it’s time to ask if the guys in charge can feel anything at all.
