Tom Thibodeau Responds To His Critics

OHHHHH. It must suck not being the head coach of the Bulls. I wouldn't know anything about that though.

It's come to my attention that a few Backers -- Boggers --Blockers --Bloggers? Bloggers? Is that how you say it? It's come to my attention that a few BLOGGERS have a problem with the way I've been running my team. MY team. Now look, I understand what it's like to be angry. I watched guys like Vinny Del Negro land head coaching jobs while I was stuck masturbating in the film room at 4 in the morning. Doc preached his ubuntu shit and hid fake hundred dollar bills in EVERY away stadium and the media loved him for it. I drew up the defenses anonymously. Do you have any idea what it's like to draw up a defensive game plan for the Lakers? Try to imagine willingly putting your foot in a crocodile's mouth, looking that crocodile in the eye as he lets your foot rest gently in the back of his throat, and then just sit there as he starts to nibble on your big toe nice and slow. Then the crocodile gets bored and offers your foot back. You want to run but you put it right back in there because that's what you have to do. The crocodile is having a little trouble biting down properly and then Ron Artest comes out of nowhere and hits a fucking three. All the sleepless nights, the shitty eating habits, the premature balding, and past success come to the forefront of your mind as you realize: There was nothing I could have done to prepare for that.

I was always a bit of an obsessive as a kid. I memorized numbers, particularly the years movies were released. The Sting - 1973. The Graduate - 1967. Scarface - 1983, the original version was 1932. Ask me any movie, I know it. Why do I tell you this, you ask? I...well...you see...sometimes I get sidetracked and before I know it I'm revealing embarrassing things about myself. You know, I treat basketball like I used to treat those movies. The finished product; title, release date, etc. was the important thing. I wasn't at all concerned about the actors. A good director takes what actors he's given and makes a hell of a movie. Sometimes his focus on a scene becomes so intense he forgets that one of the actors should not have been in the scene. Then by the time he yells, "Cut!" he hasn't the time or the money to go back and redo it. So the scene is filmed and it's already the end of the third quarter and I realize Derrick has played every minute of the game on a bum toe. Do you see what I'm saying? Work with me here. I'm not the best at conveying my thoughts.

My mother used to worry about me when I was seven years old. "Play outside," she said. "Your brain will turn to mush sitting in front of the television all day." I had no friends. Just a basketball, a ripped pair of jeans and perfectly respectable crew cut. I dribbled that ball -- boy did I dribble. I dribbled and dribbled and dribbled and I still wasn't any good. I used to bounce the ball off my foot and send it flying down the street. I ran after that ball and when I caught up to it I would start dribbling again. Inevitably, the ball would bounce off my foot again and I'd keep running for it. This WAS basketball to me. Lots of running. Constant motion. I loved the way the sweat trickled down my forehead and into my eyes. It stung. I enjoyed the pain. The pain was intense and good for me because I needed a different sort of pain to compensate for my lack of friends. I found running around all day with a basketball more than sufficient.

A couple years later, my mother became even more worried. "I'm worried you're going to kill someone, Tommy. I should have you committed." For Christmas that year I received a magnifying glass from my eccentric uncle. He told me, "Fame is a magnifying glass." I didn't understand the quote or its significance at the time, but I did enjoy the grotesque beauty of my magnified penis. The magnifying glass became my new companion. I took it outside with me, and, to my mother's dismay, dug around the garden. "That's not a garden hoe, Tommy," she yelled out the window. I pouted and stuck my tongue out at her and made my way to the front of the house. As fate would have it, another boy about my age, a boy I had never seen in my life, was riding his bike. He spotted my magnifying glass. His eyes lit up. "Cool," is all he could say.

This boy, Dennis was his name, showed me what magnifying glasses were really used for. We sat Indian style on the sidewalk and watched the ants go by. Dennis raised my magnifying glass to the sun. I watched as the sun beams reflected through the glass onto the pitiful creature. The ant, I thought, was dancing. What a fun time. "NO," Dennis said. "He's dying. We're KILLING this ant." My eyes lit up this time. Was that much control possible? Could I really impose my will on the universe? I watched as the ant withered and crumbled into the sidewalk. It was dead all right. We had ran it into the ground. I smiled bigger than when I received the Bulls coaching job. I couldn't stop smiling. My mother scheduled a psychiatrist appointment for me that day.

Running after basketballs for hours on end and accelerating the deaths of small, harmless animals were my childhood hobbies. Take from that what you will. Just know, I am always prepared. I will never let a Ron Artest situation happen again. Psychiatrists are not to be thanked. They bring to light all of your personal inadequacies, and worst of all, they make YOU tell them. Sure, I would love to carry you to the finish line only to have you hop off my back and break the tape yourself. I'm in control now. This is MY team made in MY image. They like playing through injuries because playing through injuries is what basketball players do.

Write your blogs and air your grievances. Last year it was Keith Bogans. This year it's playing time. Next year it will be something else. I'm trying to see where ya'll are coming from but the light reflecting off of my Coach of the Year trophy is a bit blinding. See you in June, suckas.          

Day 11: Bulls-Pacers (Game 5)

Basketball fans are forever trying to be more than spectators. It's why you won't hear from a fan, "The Chicago Bulls needed to rebound better," but "We needed to rebound better." It's why authentic jerseys, even amongst middle age men, are so popular. It's why the Internet, and Twitter more specifically, are being used to try and get inside the mind's of athletes.

But fans are spectators. That's what they pay for -- to sit in their seats and watch their team play. Little is owed to them except for a team putting forth maximum effort. Now and then, they receive a little more. A home crowd loves to be acknowledged. Not just as thousands of color-coordinated people, but as an integral part of the basketball experience.

Taj Gibson and Joakim Noah played the Bulls' version of the Bash Brothers in Game 5. They protected the rim, more than matched the physicality of Indiana's frontcourt, and played to the crowd the way only the greatest ego-bruising duo could.

The final six minutes of the third quarter were a microcosm of the Bulls' season. With Rose sitting on the bench with four fouls, the offense struggled, surrendering most of an 11-point lead. Rose didn't sit out for more than three minutes before he reentered the game. He proceeded to score or assist on 15 of the Bulls' final 23 points to end the quarter. Included in that barrage were three Rose three-pointers, an aspect of his game he struggled with all series. The Bulls led 82-65 at that point, but as the quarter closed, Josh McRoberts was ejected for retaliating after what he called "an elbow to the throat" from Noah. Noah and Gibson buddied up like Franklin and Bash to gloat and urge the 20 thousand in attendance to do the same. They also accounted for five of the Bulls' nine blocks on the evening. It was a pretty fun night for them.

When players encourage a crowd reaction they're really saying, "You're part of this too." They want you to share, alter, or revel in the moment the same way they are. The normally mild-mannered Luol Deng did the same thing in Game 1, urging the crowd to get loud after Hansbrough put a hard foul on Rose. The Bulls rarely played to the crowd in the regular season. Maybe it's the bigger stage and the realization that home court could be a determining factor on the road to the Finals, but the Bulls have made the Playoffs more of a collective experience. It's more fun (and intense) that way.

Carlos Boozer scored two points in Game 5. If he's not scoring there's no reason for him to play, and he didn't play much. Gibson took most of Boozer's minutes, anchoring the defense along with Noah. Whether it's his toe injury or something going on mentally, Boozer needs to get it together. He had an overall excellent Game 2 and followed with three straight poor performances. Gibson will continue to get more minutes for defensive purposes anyway, but Boozer is Chicago's only legitimate low-post scoring threat. Playing on the perimeter is too risky for an entire game, especially as defensive pressure and intensity heighten deeper into the Playoffs.

I've always been a fan of Keith Bogans. I'll admit, part of the reason why I like Bogans so much is because of all the stupid ways Bulls fans have tried to downgrade, or failed to realize what he brings to the table. Bogans isn't on the floor for his offense and, as I explained in the post linked above, there are not enough shots to go around for Bogans to be a scorer anyway. Bogans is a lock down defender at the shooting guard position. He's a guy that his teammates like and respect, and a player that can get under the opposition's skin. Bogans only attempted 11 shots heading into Game 5, and he converted on four three-pointers. He made five of his seven attempts in Game 5.

Bogans' job is to keep defenses honest. The Bulls can and will win if he contributes next to nothing on the offensive end (Games 1 and 2) and they will also lose when he contributes next to nothing (Game 4). The point being that Keith Bogans doesn't win or lose the Bulls games. When Bogans can, by his standards, explode like he did in Games 3 and 5, he gives the defense something extra to think about. I would expect Bogans to have 2 or 3 games every series where he's unconscious. It's not out of the question considering he hasn't attempted a bad shot all year and 90 percent of his looks are wide-open threes. Keep thinking of replacement shooting guards. Meanwhile, Keith Bogans is quietly helping the Bulls win games.  

The Case For Keith Bogans

Bulls fans are spoiled. As if six championships in the 90s and watching the greatest player ever wasn't enough, all I've been hearing for the last three months is the Bulls need to upgrade the shooting guard position. As if a 37-16 record without a full roster, and one game left before the All-Star break wasn't enough. We need to get better! And the only way is to get another shooting guard, anyone except Bogans. Rip Hamilton, Stephen Jackson, JR Smith, Arron Afflalo, Anthony Parker, Courtney Lee, OJ Mayo--ANYONE.
Derrick Rose can't just be considered one of the best point guards in the game, he has to be considered the best. Derrick Rose can't just be an MVP candidate, he has to be the MVP favorite. The Bulls can't just have one All-Star, they need at least two.
More. More More. Nothing has been good enough this year, has it Bulls fans?
I understand that the last 12 seasons have been tortuous, mixed with a little good here and there. It was fun watching Elton Brand compete with some pitiful Bulls teams early in his career. The 2007 playoffs in which we swept the defending champion Heat in the first round, and battled back from a 3-0 series deficit to take the Pistons to six was memorable, and left many of us foolishly thinking the Bulls had turned the corner. The 2009 first round series with Boston was quite possibly the greatest playoff series ever and best Chicago Bulls moment of the last 12 years--even though we didn't win that series.
I also understand the Miami Heat have created an "arms-race" mentality in the NBA. Three big names teamed up in Miami and the same will probably happen in New York. The Celtics already have their Big Three, now Big Four. Conventional thinking then says that in order to keep up with these teams, you need to stockpile the biggest names and most talent. This line of thinking is true to an extent, but disregards the issue of chemistry and a player's willingness to adapt to a certain role.
That's why I'll take Keith Bogans over any of the players I just mentioned above. He plays great defense and is rarely caught out of position. He's never once tried to do too much on the offensive or defensive end. Ask yourself if any of the above players be content with six shots a game? I doubt it, and that's twice the amount of shots Bogans takes per game. I'd rather not deny Rose the ball if it means the shooting guard replacement needs more shots.
The biggest critique of Bogans is that he doesn't score enough. On the surface, it's hard to argue with that. He averages 3.9 points per game. But lets look at this scoring "conundrum" a little closer.
With Noah back, the Bulls will average about 80 points per game from their starters, tied for the fourth highest total in the NBA. The only teams higher are the Knicks (85), Warriors (82), and Heat (81). The Knicks and Warriors push the ball up the court, take quick shots, and play very little defense. They also have thin benches. Their teams philosophies are perfectly suited to scoring a lot of points. I know, they're a combined 3-1 against the Bulls, but neither are championship contenders and wouldn't beat the Bulls in a seven game series. The Heat have the two best players in the NBA, who combine for 52 of those 81 points. In comparison, the Bulls' top two scorers, Rose and Boozer, combine for 44.
Hopefully, my point about Bulls fans being spoiled is starting to get clearer. How many points do they expect the starters to score? The fans seem to think we should be able to add a 12-14 point per game scorer to the starting lineup. If we did that, we'd not only have a starting lineup that averages more than 90 points per game, but outscores the 2nd highest scoring lineup by 7 or 8 points a game.
The average NBA team gets 70 points per game out of their starting lineup. The Bulls get 80, but the fans want over 90. Ludicrous!
Let's also acknowledge that Bogans has been shooting the ball much better of late. In the first 31 games of the season, he shot 37 percent from behind the arc, in line with his career average. In the last 22 games, he's shot the three-pointer at a 47 percent clip. How about the a happy medium, 42 percent? I think that's more than doable, considering nearly every Bogans three pointer is uncontested. He's seeing more wide open looks than he ever has in his career. A five percent increase from his career three-point shooting percentage isn't out of the question.
72 percent of Bogans' field goal attempts are threes, a number that I'd like to see closer to 80. He only attempts 2.5 shots per game, so the lack of scoring isn't his fault. There's simply not enough shots to go around, which is why it would be ridiculous to think a starting lineup could average over 90 points a game. If Bogans took even six shots a game, he'd be averaging 6 or 7 points, a number that is well in line with most fourth or fifth options. There's always going to be an odd man out and Bogans is that man. Why he's being criticized for it, I have no idea.
The Bulls have never won or lost a game because of Keith Bogans. They won't win or lose a game because of his potential replacement. We're good enough to contend with the team we have right now. It's been 12 rough years for God's sake. Stop trying to act spoiled now.