The annual task of considering the future of the Chicago Bulls is upon us again, a commitment one reluctantly undertakes, like getting a flu shot and brushing one’s teeth.
Admittedly, I didn’t pay much attention to them, as the Bulls are the flagship team of professional basketball. Aside from Angel and Caitlin (in alphabetical order), there’s hardly anything in the wide world of basketball that deserves attention.
I saw Boston win another NBA title, which irritated Magic Johnson, among others, since the Celtics seem to do such things quite often without asking permission.
And as usual, the NBA met to select its French teenager as the best pick among the most promising basketball players each year. Among the top six players, there were three such candidates, including the first choice, Zaccharie Risacher, who was selected in good faith and not by the NCAA.
You’d think that with all the hype surrounding Match Madness and college basketball, maybe they could have found someone more familiar, and the Bulls found something close, in the sense of nearby, a local project of sorts named Matas Buzelis, who is neither a foreigner nor a college player but hails from the suburb of Hinsdale, where a visa is not yet required.
Alex Caruso (the bald guy) has already left the Bulls and all or most of the core trio of DeMar DeRozan, Zach LaVine and Nikola Vucevic will probably leave as well, leaving the Bulls with the nice excuse of not having won but to reposition, rebuild and retool so that the next draft, if carefully planned, will bring something.
The bulls can, like white walls and lava lamps, be put away until they are rediscovered by a new generation.
The dark side of the LeBron era is that it has spawned imitators, not so much in terms of talent but rather in terms of the notion that any great team can only have one great star, that championships are won through a single, star-driven approach, and that anyone who isn’t “the greatest” is just a supporting cast member.
The strange thing is that the NBA isn’t looking to Kentucky or Duke or maybe Connecticut to find him. The NBA started the season with 140 foreign-born players on the roster. There’s no way foreign players are better basketball players at all. I’m just saying maybe they come when you call them.
LAS VEGAS, NV – JANUARY 20: Matas Buzelis #13 of G League Ignite passes the ball during the Stockton Kings game on January 20, 2024 at Dollar Loan Center in Henderson, Nevada. NOTE TO USER: User expressly acknowledges and agrees that by downloading and/or using this photograph, user agrees to the terms of the Getty Images License Agreement. Mandatory Copyright Notice: Copyright 2024 NBAE (Photo by Mike Kirschbaum/NBAE via Getty Images)
NBAE via Getty Images
I didn’t think the search for the next LeBron would end so quickly, and especially not in France. The NBA is no longer looking for his airness, but for his foreignness.
However, I expected that any cursory glance at the NBA would resemble my last impression, which was that it was a place full of long-time college dropouts, most of whom were named Jason and/or Williams.
On the country’s college campuses and even in the gymnasiums of some high schools, perfectly decent young men are being ignored in favor of Germans, Belgians, Brazilians, Australians and Chinese, while talent scouts scour the world not for the next LeBron James, but for the next Victor Wembanyama.
Those rare draft pick prizes are no longer sought on gladiolus farms or at obscure schools that fit into a single building. Gonzaga, which produced John Stockton, is not one-stop shopping. And forget there’s a Karl Malone from Louisiana Tech or a Scottie Pippen from Central Arkansas, all eyes are on Slovenia.
One can imagine scouts stopping in places like Ljubljana, eyeing the benches and translating notes asking “Are you the next Luka Doncic?” into the local language.
The Bulls, never ahead of a trend, have ventured into the world of diacritical marks, currently with their own Nikola Vucevic, but I find it hard to believe that the best basketball players have become European or otherwise. I’ve seen too much of Luc Longley and Toni Kukoc to ever be convinced.
However, it is best to make sure that your passport is up to date.
And now, as promised, a look into the future of the Bulls. It remains bleak. They will either be too old or too young; they will remain what they are: a termite nest for a front office, a placemat for a coach, a wet fuse for an owner and a pile of towels that make up the roster.
Nothing that happened on draft night, that annual embarrassing parade of bad suits and awkward team caps, changed that.
