THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1996, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Wednesday, June 12, 1996 TAG: 9606120352
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C1 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BOB MOLINARO
LENGTH: 64 lines
The Chicago Bulls are the greatest team in basketball history.
Or maybe not.
After the Bulls close out the Seattle StuporSonics, you can make up your own mind, but don't ask me to join the NBA debating society.
And I have some advice for those of you who still haven't been drawn into the argument: Don't go there.
Don't go there because there is no there there.
In other words, a debate of this sort is a waste of time.
This makes it perfect fodder for radio squawk shows, but tedious for anybody who understands that you can't compare teams from different eras any more than you can measure today's players against those from past generations.
The Bulls' legacy is secure. They won 72 games this season.
But does this make them superior to the Los Angeles Lakers who won 69 games? Does it make them greater than the Philadelphia 76ers who won 68 in 1967?
The Bulls rule their own era. They are making their own history. All the rest is speculation.
You can question whether a team that starts Luc Longley at center, and brings Jud Buechler off the bench, can be considered the best ever. But my interest in the Bulls is more prosaic.
I prefer to think of them as the only real reason to follow post-expansion pro basketball in the late 20th century.
Coach Phil Jackson, Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen and all the rest rightfully have been praised for the relentless determination they've brought to this season.
First and foremost, though, pro sports is show biz. The Bulls provide great entertainment, and give us something remarkable to focus on at a time when we are saturated by sports and games, none any more compelling than the other.
The Bulls are doing this despite suffering a serious handicap. They have no great opponent, no memorable foil to help define their undertaking.
Ali-Frazier. Dodgers-Yankees. Lakers-Celtics. One enhanced the other.
McEnroe had Borg. Kennedy had Nixon. Lincoln had Douglas.
What do the Bulls have? Orlando? You see their problem.
As a result, the running of the Bulls has lacked one key ingredient: Drama.
In the Seattle series, the only memorable moments have sprung from the desire of the Sonics to ``get into the head'' of Dennis Rodman.
Makes you wonder: What would they find once they got inside Rodman's head? I picture a long, dark corridor with a funhouse mirror at the end.
Frank Brickowski has been brave or foolish enough to risk the journey. He has been ejected from two games after attempting to play mind games with Rodman. This is like trying to match chemistry experiments with the Unabomber.
Rodman provides, depending on your point of view, humorous or grotesque diversion. But with no worthy opponent to test them, the Bulls are captives - as are the fans - of a dreary postseason trend.
If the Bulls wrap it up tonight, though, at least the NBA will have the good sense to sign off before half the nation is fast asleep.
The National Hockey League's four-game, title-round tedium wasn't resolved until 1:07 a.m.
Now there's a sport that knows how to showcase itself. Who's the commissioner of the NHL, Conan O'Brien?
Somebody has to win the Stanley Cup, but there's no rule that says we must remember who it is.
The Bulls, though, are bigger than their league, if not their sport. In an ironic sort of way, while pursuing greatness, the biggest hurdle they've had to overcome is a lack of serious competition. by CNB