Tone at the top
Some things never change, no matter how badly they need to
Just a few days ago, I wrote about how the Bulls would eventually trade Jimmy Butler. I wasn’t expecting it to happen so soon, but I woke up this morning to realize last night was not just a nightmare. Fans saw Bulls management throw away their best player while surrendering yet another draft pick to former head coach Tom Thibodeau. In return for Jimmy Butler and No. 16 overall pick, Chicago received two unproven guards and a 19-year-old Finnish 7-footer. The Reinsdorfs, John Paxson and Gar Forman discarded one of the best players in franchise history after refusing to publicly commit to him long-term. As if he was a fading, washed-up star, Jimmy was dealt for a fraction of a penny on the dollar.
Despite questionable leadership at times and an affinity for the dying art of isolation basketball, Bulls fans largely loved Jimmy Butler, and Jimmy loved them right back. Regarding a potential Butler trade, John Paxson said just six weeks ago, “if we don’t get something in return that puts us in a position to really move forward, you can’t do that.” Feel free to convince yourself Zach LaVine, two-time slam dunk champion, will fully recover from an ACL (and LCL) tear and develop into a star. It might be impossible, but perhaps you could talk yourself into thinking Kris Dunn has a chance to stay in the league and become a rotation player. You can dig into film on Lauri Markkanen to try get excited about his star potential, but he’s many years away from that. All those things may help some blindly optimistic Bulls fans rationalize what happened last night — but not I.
In my brief time writing about the Bulls, I haven’t made it much of a secret that I grew up a diehard fan of the team. From the Curry/Chandler experiment to Jay Williams to Ben Gordon and so on, I questioned whether I’d ever see Chicago break through again. The glimmer of hope brought by Derrick Rose reignited my love for the team, only to reveal itself years later as lightning in a bottle. I will forever cherish the memories of Rose and those Bulls teams. Unfortunately, bad luck, chaos and rampant incompetency has brought us to today, where Nikola Mirotic is the only remaining player from the Tom Thibodeau era. Hundreds of players have cycled through this organization since Michael Jordan, but the primary constants have been an invisible owner in Jerry Reinsdorf and his trusted management team. This group is headlined by John Paxson, who assumed the responsibilities of basketball operations in 2003, and long-time scout Gar Forman, who was promoted to general manager upon the success of Derrick Rose and Tom Thibodeau in 2010. (Note: It’s truly remarkable how little information there is about Gar Forman on the internet). Minimal owner interest and a lack of managerial transparency are recipes for disaster in any business, and the NBA is no different.
Jimmy Butler’s agent offered this cryptic statement following the trade:
“Emotions run high, things happen but ultimately it’s moments like this that will be remembered by all involved. Experiences are what last.”
Then came perhaps the most open and aggressive public attack toward the Bulls front office. Jimmy Butler’s trainer took a jab at Gar Forman on Twitter. The tweet has been deleted, but it read:
“[Worst] culture in the league. I met drug dealers with better morals then their GM. He is a liar and everyone knows”
I cannot wrap my head around the fact that a billion-dollar organization completely lacks basic functionality. The player personnel blunders are endless. Swapping LaMarcus Aldridge for Tyrus Thomas, signing Ben Wallace to a $60 million contract, losing Jamal Crawford to front office friction, starting Keith Bogans at shooting guard for 82 games one season, settling for Carlos Boozer in a blockbuster free agency period, signing Pau Gasol and failing to trade his expiring contract, signing Wade and Rondo, and on and on and on. That’s just a sample — the list is legitimately interminable. Player mistreatment stories are aplenty, including persistent issues with the medical staff. Ugly off-court decisions litter Chicago’s recent history. One example I’m reminded of is when Forman fired arguably the league’s finest assistant coach in Ron Adams without even informing head coach Tom Thibodeau. Speaking of Thibodeau, who can forget how ugly and unprofessional his departure was handled? Yesterday it looked like the New York Knicks were the worst run organization in the NBA. Today, that title could easily belong to the Chicago Bulls.
When Jerry Reinsdorf bought the Bulls in 1985, he said, “I will be visible, I will be seen, I will be actively involved with this franchise.” Maybe it’s unreasonable to expect someone to hold a promise for 32+ years, but to fail so miserably at keeping a promise of that magnitude is unacceptable. As David Haugh once eloquently wrote, “no one gets a bigger pass in sports than Jerry Reinsdorf.” It’s true. There is no longer an argument to be made: John Paxson and Gar Forman have fallen well short of expectations. When evaluating an individual for a job as prestigious as head coach, general manager, or vice president, you must ask yourself, “would 29 other teams want this person to fill this role?” As a betting man, I’d be willing to wager not one other team would hire John Paxson as their vice president, Gar Forman as their general manager, or Fred Hoiberg as their head coach. The blame placed on Paxson and Forman is well-deserved, but at times overplayed. At the end of the day, it’s Reinsdorf who employs these men and supports them unconditionally.
Jerry Reinsdorf once said, “I’m not loyal to people who don’t deserve it.” After everything we’ve laid out, it’s hard to understand how that could be the case. Do Bulls fans, who are among the most loyal in the league, not deserve loyalty in return? Chicago’s apparent refusal to exceed the salary cap and pay the luxury tax is unfathomable. You’d think a company who prioritizes profits would realize how much on-court success pumps the numbers up even more. Reinsdorf’s favoritism of short-term earnings over long-term roster construction has crippled this franchise. His favoritism of the Chicago White Sox, a team currently undergoing a promising rebuild, hasn’t helped the Bulls’ either.
Looking back on Reinsdorf’s vow to be actively involved in the franchise in 1985 requires a brief history lesson. He is known by many to be a baseball guy, so much so that he only purchased the Chicago Bulls because he was afraid he would lose his beloved White Sox. As quoted in Sam Smith’s masterful book, There Is No Next, Reinsdorf says: “I thought the Sox might go broke. In 1981 and 1982, we lost money and there was a strike. I thought the Bulls could help me keep the White Sox solvent, a synergy with programming and sponsors. It made sense.” Jerry wasn’t wrong. Now that he has six rings, he can continue running the Bulls like a corporation rather than a basketball organization, cashing in at every directionless turn.
The Reinsdorfs simply don’t seem to care, and why should they? The Bulls continue to be among league leaders in revenue and attendance. Paxson and Forman know that’s all it takes to keep their boss happy and their jobs secure. Fans may no longer buy the bulls*** they spew, but they still buy tickets and merchandise. Large corporations and small businesses alike suffer from poor ownership, and it’s one of the main reasons why the Bulls haven’t returned to the NBA finals in nearly 20 years. In many respects, the Bulls are failing, just not in the one that matters. Sheer luck — like winning the 2008 NBA Draft Lottery — appears to be the only thing that can save the future of this franchise. Otherwise, the vicious cycle of mediocrity might never end without a different tone at the top.
