Last night’s Bulls loss brought back some memories. See, the worst ass-kicking I ever got was in college. The day before the Bears played in the Super Bowl, actually. My buddy Herman and I were ordering a keg at a liquor store and got jumped by five dudes outside who were trying to steal it. It was bloody, tempers ran high, and it took place in Florida.
Like I said, last night’s Bulls loss brought back some memories.
For a brief shining moment Wednesday night, we took a trip back to the NBA of the ‘90s, where hard fouls and calling refs every curse word that existed ruled. Forty-one fouls (!!!). Nine technical fouls, six against the Bulls. Two ejections. Angry white women flipping off large black men. Somewhere, I imagined Charles Oakley and Anthony Mason watching the game together and nodding slowly.
So now what? The series returns to Chicago. The Bulls just suffered the worst playoffs ass-whipping they’ve ever faced. When you face serious adversity, how do you handle it?
You go to work, that’s how.
Fellow Bulls fans, it’s that time. The entire country saw how powerful and downright insane we can be during the Brooklyn series.
Nasty Nate is going to come alive again. Support him. Let Taj know that we’ve got his back for riding with the squad down in South Beach. Bring out the six-shooters for Noah. If Deng and Captain Kirk make their returns, cheer like Jesus himself is starting at two-guard. Enough worrying about Rose. That situation can be addressed later. Don’t be an idiot. None of us are trying to see some North Shore housewife flipping the bird to the Birdman make Deadspin, OK? We lead the league in attendance this year because Chicago is about SHOWING UP. So let’s get it.
In case you were wondering, they didn’t take my keg. Don’t let them take ours.
Sidebar: [Bleep] the Miami Heat as a franchise, an organization, a record label and as a mother[bleeping] crew. See you at Game 3.
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