TELANDER: Do it, Derrick Rose, even if it’s just a drop
BY RICK TELANDER firstname.lastname@example.org April 13, 2013 1:30AM
The remainder of the regular season and the playoffs will give Derrick Rose plenty of chances to play. | Charles Rex Arbogast~AP
Updated: May 15, 2013 6:40AM
We’ve been talking about Derrick Rose’s return to the Bulls for almost three months now. And it’s not that we’ve been wondering when he’ll be 100 percent healed from that knee injury, but, rather, why he isn’t healed from it?
And most of that speculation centers on the mental wounding Rose has undergone from the first major injury of his star-filled career. The man who once was considered a fearsome warrior is now seen by some as a slackard.
If Rose came back Sunday and played against the Miami Heat, he could play in the final three regular-season games and then the playoffs. The playoffs are best-of-seven elimination rounds, so theoretically Rose could play in 28 more games if the Bulls went all the way to the NBA Finals — 31 total if he plays Sunday.
Which he won’t.
But if he ever is physically and mentally able to play at any time this year, I say he should.
The playoffs alone can nearly equal a college season. Forget stats. Forget all of it. Just play.
If Rose can play in one game this year, for one minute, he should. Basketball is what he does. What he knows. What he is.
◆ Two basketball beefs:
‘‘The paint’’ is jargon. The area between the free-throw lines is the lane, not the paint. Usually the lane is painted, but sometimes it isn’t. Yet everyone, even statisticians, refers to ‘‘points in the paint,’’ etc.
No. The ball is not a pea, pellet, rock, melon, nugget, sphere or boulder. It is the ball.
The backboard is the backboard, not the window or glass.
The lane is the lane. Please.
Second, why are there so many dangerous obstructions so close to NBA courts?
It’s not amazing when players fly into the stands or fans or announcers or cameramen. It’s amazing when they don’t. NBA players are supreme athletes, and their realm doesn’t stop at the out-of-bounds line.
Fans are allowed to sit in chairs along the court, eating bins of popcorn and swilling drinks, and when those things go flying — as they will when a player dives into or over your lap for a loose ball — we aren’t just stunned, but overjoyed. Stupid. Phony. Nonsense. Stop it.
◆ D-I men’s basketball coaches make a lot of money. We know that.
The riches are absurd and wrong. Even Secretary of Education Arne Duncan has weighed in on its immorality. But onward we go. There’s lots of money out there when the workers (players) are unpaid.
Kansas coach Bill Self just signed a new contract with that school that will pay him $50 million — not counting incentives — over 10 years. In the final year, Self could earn a minimum of $9.5 million.
Duke’s Mike Krzyzewski made $7.2 million this past season, which included $3.7 million in bonuses and incentives.
Ain’t the free market beautiful?
◆ Meanwhile, Auburn athletic director Jay Jacobs and former football coach Gene Chizik have denied allegations that as many as nine players on the 2010 BCS national championship team had their grades changed to make them eligible for the title contest.
Several players have said this is true. Plus, they claim, they received illegal payments. But the mess is barely registering anywhere.
Why should it? The players are gone. Chizik was fired for not winning enough games just two seasons after his glory. It’s Auburn. Gotta kick ’Bama’s butt.
◆ Last week, Casey Urlacher, the miniature edition of brother Brian, was voted mayor of the teensy Lake County village of Mettawa. Casey got 156 of the 255 votes cast.
Thus, the 33-year-old Urlacher, who played linebacker and earned a business degree at nearby D-III Lake Forest College, has a job. Which is more than we can say about his older bro.
But if Brian gets employment, say, as Casey’s bodyguard, and stays in the area, it’ll be easy for the Bears to pick him up so he can come back and help teach Manti Te’o how to play Brian’s old position.
◆ No new heads in boxes at Wrigley.
All quiet on the goat front.