November 12, 2014, 8:52 PM
Derrick Rose declined to address reporters Wednesday, presumably to save his voice for his Basketball Hall of Fame induction speech in 2029..
That's not the real reason. And perhaps that's not entirely fair. But Rose invited such ridicule by linking his legitimate decisions to sit recent games because of two sprained ankles with his desire to one day walk without a limp at his son's high school graduation.
Rose's son, P.J., is 2.
That would make Rose approximately 41 when P.J. graduates. Most dads start saving money for college when their kids are young. Apparently, Rose is saving his body. That's fine if Rose was a middle linebacker. But a point guard?
"A lot of people don't understand that when I sit out it's not because of this year — I'm thinking long term,'' Rose said. "I'm thinking about after I'm done with basketball, having graduations to go to, having meetings to go to. I don't want to be in my meetings all sore or be at my son's graduation all sore just because of something I did in the past. Just learning and being smart."
No, it was a dumb thing to say for someone paid $18.86 million a year to play basketball. That's $230,000 per game. Some things are better left unsaid. Bulls fans making a fraction of that money per year, wearing blue and white collars to work, hardly want to hear Rose make it harder for them to relate to the kid from Englewood.
If Rose had been talking about preserving himself for the grind of the NBA playoffs instead of life after basketball, Chicago would have shrugged. Instead, Rose sounded like a spokesman for Charmin explaining his play-it-safe approach on a team full of guys like Jimmy Butler and Joakim Noah who routinely risk long-term pain for short-term gain.
Rose defenders complaining about the conversation veering away from basketball again need to realize he steered it that direction. David Axelrod, a former top adviser to President Barack Obama and Bulls season-ticket holder, tweeted: "Folks should lay off @drose. He made (a) Herculean effort to get back to the @chicagobulls. And we need him healthy & strong in May and June.''
Agreed, but Rose's comments had nothing to do with May and June 2015 — and that was the issue. An experienced, effective communicator like Axelrod, come to think of it, could provide a valuable service to a point guard known to muddle the message.
The overriding message through eight games: Being wise with his body, Rose the basketball player remains on track for a starring role on a Bulls team that looks like the best in the Eastern Conference. But Rose the face of the franchise needs to stop making the city cringe so people aren't distracted from that.
Of course he is to "blame" for what he said, but he's just a young guy playing basketball, not a public official. This is "gotcha" journalism much in the manner of following electoral candidates. In today's stir-the-pot social media platform world, opportunists...
If Rose had been getting good PR advice — or any at all — he would have faced the media Wednesday and, with an air of self-deprecation and a disarming smile, chalked up the interview to a poor choice of words. Whether it was an apology or explanation, Rose missed an opportunity to close a gap with his fan base much wider than it was before injuries changed him forever.
You remember those days, when Rose was more impetuous than out of touch. Take Jan. 29, 2011, for instance — the middle of Rose's MVP season. Before the Bulls hosted the Pacers at the United Center, Rose discussed why playing through stomach ulcers during a regular-season game in the dead of winter mattered.
"It'll take a lot to get me to not play,'' Rose said then. "We're going to do anything to get this win. If that's me playing just a couple of minutes or whatever, I'm willing to do it.''
Two knee surgeries later, Rose sounds like a guy with scars to more than just both knees. Psychologically, the impact of two seasons in recovery surely affected Rose's mindset. Rose ponders life beyond basketball instinctively perhaps because bad luck since April 28, 2012, conditioned him to think in those terms.
Of course, Rose wants to feel whole to enjoy his son's milestones like any good dad. That's not necessarily the problem in his honesty. The problem was Rose lacked the savvy to understand how giving voice to those innermost thoughts would further harm his reputation. In pro sports markets like Chicago's, perception becomes reality quicker than Rose on a fast break.
Nobody knows defense like Bulls coach Tom Thibodeau, so naturally the stance he took on Rose was impenetrable. Rose's teammates followed suit.
"Sometimes we all say things that we probably could say differently,'' Thibodeau said. "The bottom line is this: He was injured. He had two sprained ankles. So he did the right thing. And when he was better, he played. It's really that simple.''
Thibs is right about the bottom line but wrong about his conclusion. Nothing ever is simple with Rose. But that's the tangled web he wove for himself.