Through a Seventh Freshman's Eyes

It's that time of year again. This year's high school senior crop (and assumed college freshmen) were born between Fall 1998 and Summer 1999, mere babes during Y2K hysteria and the other goings-on at the turn of the century. With each passing year, their perspective compared to previous generations looks a little more skewed, and things they take for granted might have been something we weren't aware about when we were their age.  Once again, with all due apologies to Beloit College, I present my annual homemade "Memory List":

If you're a graduating senior...

...impeaching the President of the United States has always been a possibility.
...the threat of a school shooting has always been very, very real.
...Slobodan Milosevic was never President of Serbia.
...Europe has always had (or attempted to have) a unifying currency.
...India and Pakistan have always had nuclear powers.
...baseball has always been tainted by steroids and PEDs.
...the Latino population in the U.S. has always increased by about one million people.
...the Dow Jones Industrial Average has almost always been above 10,000.
...there have always been anti-vaxxers.
...you vaguely remember your parents winning an eBay auction on a grape-colored iMac.
...Bluetooth, Blackberry, and instant/no-tray ice have always been a thing.
...Michael J. Fox has always been open and forthcoming about his battle with Parkinson's Disease.
...there have always been mediocre "Star Wars" prequels.
..."The Sopranos" and "Sex & The City" have always been part of the pop culture conversation, and there's always been more to HBO than just movies and sex documentaries.
...Regis Philbin was a game show host first, and a daytime talk show host second.
...Jimmy Fallon and Jimmy Kimmel have always been on TV in some capacity.
...Mike Scioscia has always been manager of the Los Angeles Angels of Anaheim, California, United States, Earth.
...Dirk Nowitzki and Vince Carter have always played in the NBA.
...Joe Thornton, Patrick Marleau, and Marian Hossa have always played in the NHL.
...Michael Jordan never played for the Chicago Bulls, Wayne Gretzky has never laced a set of skates, and John Elway has always been a football executive.
...the Nashville Predators have always been in existence, and the Cleveland Browns have never taken a year off from football.
...Susan Lucci's name has always been preceded by the phrase "Emmy winner."
...Bill Murray has never hosted SNL.
...they have never stayed up to watch Tom Snyder.
...you think "Melrose Place" is a Chicago suburb. (You're thinking of Melrose Park.)
..."Spongebob Squarepants" and "Family Guy" have always been on TV.
...the original host of The Daily Show was Jon Stewart.
...Gene Siskel, Stanley Kubrick, Matthew Shepard, Joe DiMaggio, Dan Quisenberry, George Wallace, John Ehrlichman, Doak Walker, Gene Autry, Hal Newhouser, Weeb Eubank, Roddy McDowall, Alan J. Pakula, Flip Wilson, Esther Rolle, Norman Fell, Michel Petrucciani, Flo-Jo, the one guy from Milli Vanilli, Dusty Springfield, Dana Plato, Rick Rude, Owen Hart, Shel Silverstein, DeForest Kelly, and John F. Kennedy Jr. have always been dead.

In case you missed it, here's last year's list. Again, my apologies if I made you feel old.

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One Last Sports Blog Before My 30th Birthday

This will likely be my last blog post before my 30th birthday, which will be on August 18th. One of my internet guilty pleasures are semi-pointless lists where things are ranked for the sole purpose of starting debates. At first, I decided to rank the ten best (and worst) sports teams I've had the pleasure --or obviously, displeasure-- of watching in my three decades on this big blue marble. (You know that I overthink things.) I have a pretty clear of what teams I wanted on my list, but I also struggled to say something interesting, unique, and insightful about all of them. I'm too young to remember the '85 Chicago Bears or the champion Kansas City Royals team from the same year, but I vividly remember my Blackhawks romping to the Stanley Cup 18 short months ago. On the flip side of that, I remember when the Royals lost 107 games in 2005, the Bears during the Wannstadt years, and Da Hawks in the decade immediately preceding Bill Wirtz's death. For every 1995-96 Chicago Bulls, you have any Bulls squad coached by Tim Floyd or Jim Boylan. I'm scrambling to think of a Northwestern squad (save for women's lacrosse) that can balance out decades of football and basketball mediocrity, give or take the '95 Rose Bowl run.

Any capable sportswriter must learn to write with a neutral perspective, if not necessarily a neutral voice, no matter how tempting it is to be a homer and take sides. I'll never win the Cerulli Award, but I watched enough baseball, football, basketball, and hockey over the years to know what seperates a truly dominant team from a ghastly one. Without putting my favorite teams in consideration, I settled on two smaller lists, written in a perspective that has no other concern for that program or organization, in chronological order from 1984 to now:

GREATEST TEAMS:

• The 1995 Nebraska Cornhuskers. College sports were barely in my peripheral in grade school, but overall '95 was one of the best years ever for college pigskin. Northwestern's unexpected rise of prominence following upsets of Notre Dame, Michigan, and Penn State was remarkable, but the Huskers were the undisputed #1 team all season. The Green-Phillips backfield was impossible to stop, the defense was a brick wall, and Nebraska averaged 51 points a game en route to a Fiesta Bowl decimation of Florida.
• The 1998 New York Yankees. Maybe the last "pure" Yankees championship squad: few if any overpriced free agents, no known juicers, and a roster that was mostly homegrown. The year that Mariano Rivera broke out and Derek Jeter cemented his superstar status. They averaged more than two runs per game, and outside of early April they never lost more than two games in a row. They won games with their hitting, their rotation, their bullpen, and their bench. Top to bottom dominant.
• The 2001-02 Detroit Red Wings. As a Chicagoan, I am just as obligated to hate the Wings as any true Bears fan spews vitriol at the Packers. Sweet holy crap, however this team was stacked. This was an alignment of All-Stars and Hockey Hall of Famers that could only last one year, a true fantasy hockey roster if there ever was one. Besides familar faces like Steve Yzerman and Brendan Shanahan, the roster read like a who's who of '90s NHL superstars: Brett Hull, Luc Robitaille, Chris Chelios, with Dominik Hasek in goal. A near-constant offense threat on every line more than made up for the advancing age of the Wings' ringers. Outside of a first-round scare by Vancouver, there was little doubting who would win the West and hoist the Stanley Cup.
• The 2007 New England Patriots. Maybe the greatest sports team to not win a championship. You can blame their underwhelming performance in Super Bowl XLII on both exhaustion and a strong effort by the New York Giants' defense. The fact of the matter is, they went 16-0 in a season where the AFC East was still competitive and their ease of schedule was somewhere in the middle. No one except Big Blue gave them much of a challenge.
• The 2013-14 San Antonio Spurs. Too soon, you say? Granted, the Spurs were the best team in a stacked Western Conference, and in the '14 Finals they disposed a much flashier Miami Heat squad in five games simply by playing the game right. They demonstrated how Gregg Popovich and company put fundamentals first; their formula was a blend of young and seasoned players, a mix of solid shooting with crisp defensive play. Tim Duncan are Manu Ginobili are two of the most low-key future Hall of Famers in the game, with Tiago Splitter --arguably the greatest 30th overall pick ever-- having a coming out party with his solid two-way play against Lebron et al.

WORST TEAMS:

• The 2002 Tampa Bay Devil Rays. A textbook example of a youth movement, and the exact moment people realized the Rays' original management didn't know what they were doing. All the aging, overpriced free agents from their inaugural squad four years earlier had either moved on or retired. This left the Rays with a roster of cheaper, still aging free agents (hi, Greg Vaughn!) thrown together with maybe the most disorganized farm system in recent memory. Top prospect Greg "Toe" Nash never made it to Tropicana Field, a disappearing act that was nearly as fast as his unlikely arrival. Former first round pick Josh Hamilton was still in his cocaine and painkillers phase. Carl Crawford was probably called up to The Show too soon, but his .259 average showed promise. This was the only full major league season of Jared Sandburg, the nephew of the Cubs' Hall of Fame second baseman. It was obvious that Jared wasn't major league material, but the Rays' farm system didn't have any other third basemen, so Sandburg's so-so glove and .220 average made do.
• The 2003, 2004, and 2005 College of DuPage Chapparals (football). If you're from the west suburbs of Chicago and your family couldn't afford to send you to a four-year university, chances are you earned your basic credits at COD before transferring. I was no exception; I earned an Associates in Arts before spending two years at Illinois State. During my 2 1/2 years in Glen Ellyn, JNCO sports were always in my peripheral, and COD's atrocious football program symbolized school spirit or lack thereof. The '03 and '04 Chaps both went 0-11, and the '05 squad won their first game before dropping the next ten. The star running back on the 2003 team shot and killed a guy, than almost got off the hook because of Illinois' "defense of dwelling" statute. (He spent two months in jail for not having an owner's ID.) The intent of JNCO is to assemble a competitive team out of the prep players the major schools overlooked. The COD Chaps were misfits and castoffs, and played with a massive chip on their shoulders.
• The 2007 and 2008 Indiana State Sycamores (also football). Even for a mid-major, the Trees were pitiful. From 2006 to 2009 ISU dropped 32 games in a row, and their winless seasons in '07 and '08 were bookended by 1-10 campaigns. Other schools in the Gateway Conference were clammering to host Indiana State for their homecoming game (including my Illinois State Redbirds) if only because their incompetence guaranteed a home blowout win in front of a sellout crowd. The Sycamores' football program has since upgraded from awful to merely mediocre, but those rough years in the late 2000s still linger.
• The 2012 Charlotte Bobcats. I won't deny the brilliance of Michael Jordan as a basketball player; he's the G.O.A.T. for a reason. As an executive and scout, however it's been a lengthy learning experience to say the least. After dropping 23 straight games to finish the season, Jordan was booed on his home court for the first time ever because of this hot mess, a 7-59 squad in a lockout-shortened season. At least the Bobcats' two lottery picks that season (Bismack Biyombo and Kemba Walker) weren't the busts that many had feared.

This is not a complete list by any means. Maybe it's fatigue from decades of watching NU hoops, but I don't really care about college basketball until bracket time. The 1992 U.S. Olympic "Dream Team" was ridiculously dominant, but everyone and their mother expected them to crush everything in their path. I'm not that concerned with non-team sports, so no NASCAR or PGA. Either way, it's my birthday and I'm feeling super self-indulgent.
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Less Than Sterling

When new NBA commissioner Adam Silver announced that Los Angeles Clippers owner Donald Sterling was banned from the league, I took pause. I spent a good 30 minutes wondering if the punishment --banishment, the forced sale of his team, plus a $2.5 million fine-- was enough or too far. In some scenario, it might have made sense to hit Sterling where it hurts him most-- right in the wallet. In the wake of a scandal that affected and aggravated nearly every corner and crevice of professional basketball, and triggering a loaded first amendment debate, I ultimately believe the punishment fits the misdeed.

It was widely known in most social circles that Donald Sterling is a bigot. The comments that were recorded and released last week brought years of rumors and heresy to the surface.  A 2009 article in ESPN magazine focused on his notoriously abrasive personality, but only casually mentioned his testy, sometimes acrimonious relationships with African-American employees. Sterling was self-made, solecistic as well as solipsistic, and he didn't care what others thought of him. For his growing list of adversaries, however his dismissal from any and all NBA operations is a godsend.

The heft of the Sterling situation doesn't begin to rationalize the stupidity of his remarks. In a organization like the Clippers where over half of the payroll is black, and in a sports league where an overwhelming number of players, coaches, and executives are African-American, there is absolutely no place for Sterling's mindset. Even in the privacy of his mistress' boudoir, there was no rationale for his comments. Naming specific LA sports figures --NBA great Magic Johnson, Dodgers All-Star Matt Kemp-- only served to salt wounds. To not apologize or clarify his remarks firsthand, but rather hide behind an army of lawyers, reeks of cowardice. From that perspective, a lifetime ban makes perfect sense. People will not forget this, nor forgive Sterling in a prompt manner.

I suppose what startled me most about Silver's decision was how swift and thorough it was. He took the reins from David Stern less than three months ago, and this was the first major challenge (and decision) of his brief regime. I half-expected and feared weeks of doddering "investigations" and bluster, but Silver promptly reacted with dynamism and class. This wasn't a time to dwell, but a time for unity, and that the National Basketball Association should walk this off with dignity intact. The poison has been removed, Silver implied, and we should move on.  If only Adam Silver was representing us in Washington...

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30 Teams, 30 Haiku: My 2013-14 NBA Preview

Following the unexpected, runaway success of my 2013 NFL Preview, for the first time ever I'm extending my love of haiku to the NBA. With a top-heavy Eastern Conference and the West as wild as ever, I try to break down the upcoming season in 17 kiru. Enjoy!

(NOTE: asterisks note playoff teams)

Atlantic
1. Nets. Young, old united/big bucks might gel into a/dark horse contender.
2. Knicks*. Blue and orange crushed?/Hardly, but a deeper East/makes a tough battle.
3. Raptors. North of the border/sleeping dinos lurk; a hot/start is quite crucial.
4. Celtics. Rondo? Still injured/don't blame Stevens for struggles/as Shamrocks rebuild.
5. 76ers. Very soft offense/despite a decent backcourt/hello, top five pick!

Central
1. Bulls. A healthy Rose blooms/while the D divides and/conquers; be afraid!
2. Pacers*. So close, yet so far/a deeper bench is needed/to turn off the Heat.
3. Pistons*. Monroe and Penguin/hot-shot ballers on paper/must work together.
4. Cavaliers*. Anthony Bennett/left his heart in Bedford Heights/but can Bynum thrive?
5. Bucks. All hail "The Greek Freak"/there's something in the gyros/...if he ever plays.

Southeast
1. Heat. Targets on their backs/a three-peat won't come easy/...ah, I'm just kidding.
2. Wizards*. The number eight seed/is the final Wall to climb/you might be surprised.
3. Hawks. A middling bunch, true/with Carroll at small forward/same so-so results.
4. Bobcats. Battle for last place/credibility growing/but no playoffs yet.
5. Magic. Fascinating youth/but a lack of direction/produces few wins.

Northwest
1. Thunder. When Rusty's knee heals/Durant's long quest for a ring/may finally end.
2. Nuggets*. Play by committee/swaggy, but no superstar/clutch or confusion?
3. T-Wolves*. Rubio and Love/upfront? Great, but no depth and/injuries linger.
4. Blazers. Get Fred Armisen/to back up Lopez, and I/might want to watch this.
5. Jazz. Upside is the word/with so many question marks/Favors sings the blues.

Pacific
1. Clippers. No second fiddle/Staples' other occupant/is ready to win.
2. Warriors*. Spicy Curry for/my dinner with Andre; Bay/Area says "yum!"
3. Lakers. Kobe's got a beef/one last year in Laker gold/another ring? No.
4. Kings. So much potential/yet the pieces don't fit; more/soap opera crap.
5. Suns. Desert of talent/the Phoenix won't rise this year/70 losses?

Southwest
1. Spurs. Sound fundamentals/and a seamless youth movement/Popo's boys can't lose.
2. Rockets*. D12 aside, they're/weak on the charity stripe/they need a stretch 4.
3. Grizzlies*. Merciless defense/must make up for shaky O/and lack of upgrades.
4. Pelicans. Young birds hatching, but/like old Hornets, they won't sting/just hover around.
5. Mavericks. There's Dirk and... uh, um.../big step backwards in Big D/Shocker! Cuban's pissed.

Rookie of the Year: Victor Oladipo, Magic
Most Improved Player: Andre Drummond, Pistons
NBA MVP: Lebron James, Heat
First Head Coach Fired: Rick Carlisle, Mavericks
2014 NBA Finals: Thunder over Heat in 6

Your thoughts?

When the Ink Dries

I'm an autograph hound. It's something that piqued my interest in middle school, and the thrill of the hunt still riles me up. My style is frugal and somewhat scrappy; I've never coughed up more than $30 at a signing, and whenever I'm at a baseball game I'm the first behind the dugout and the last to leave. My strategy is a blend of advice that I've picked up from the Beckett magazines and tips from fellow hounds. Sixteen years on, my collection is a disparate mix of Hall of Famers and has-beens, superstars and benchwarmers. A lot of athletes treat autograph requests as an unwanted nuisance (and for more popular players, I sympathize) but for every sullen old coot like Hank Bauer, there's a Jerry Terrell that's just happy to be remembered.*

Sometime around Christmas, a buddy of mine asked for a favor. He runs a sports card chop in Naperville, IL (two towns over from Downers), and he needed extra help for an event he was holding on January 28th. Dean hosts autograph signings at his shop every now and then, generally a mix of current Chicago notables past and present, but this next event was going to be especially daring. Instead of just one guest or two --keep in mind, this is a little mom n' pop shop-- Dean was going to hold four signings at once. With so many ex-jocks signing, he needed additional assistance. Suffice to say, I jumped at the opportunity.

The four Chicago-based athletes signing that night represented four of the five major local sports teams. (I assume there was a lack of space or not enough money to bring in an ex-Blackhawk.) Four tables, single file, with a retired athlete and their assigned handler sitting in metal folding chairs. On the far end was Mike Hartenstine, a former All-American defensive end that played for the '85 Bears. To his left was Gary "Sarge" Matthews, a former Rookie of the Year and one-time All Star that played with the Cubs in the mid-1980s. To Sarge's left was Ron Kittle, another former ROY and a much-feared (albeit one-dimensional) power hitter for the Pale Hose. The last table belonged to Bob "Butterbean" Love, a three-time All-Star with the Bulls in the late '60s and '70s. I was assigned to Butterbean.

The event was supposed to start at 6, but the handlers were supposed to arrive by 5:30. I explained to Dean that I would be ten minutes late because of my temp job. Luckily for me, Love was stuck in traffic and showed up around 5:55. I had only met two other NBA players in my lifetime (Evan Eschmeyer and Ron Artest) so I gawked a little when Love's 6'8" frame crouched under the doorway and entered the card shop. Love was jovial but aloof, and I soon realized that he was almost completely deaf. When he sat down, Love told me that he left his hearing aid at home; I was afraid to ask why, but I assumed it was something he was self-conscious about. For those of you that know his life story, this wasn't the first time Love kept a secret from the public. People would walk past Love, ask him questions, and he would just stare and nod politely. In an attempt to bond with him, I told him that I would be his "ears" for the evening; he chuckled and said thank you, but I was reluctant to let people on to his disability.

The tone of the evening was eclectic, to put it succiently. Kittle has an older dog that had leg surgery that day; he didn't have time to drop the dog off at his house from the vet, so Ron brought the weary animal with him. Kittle was also the most loquacious of the four stars, sharing anecdotes and bantering with the autograph seekers. The pooch laid under the table, struggling to adjust himself with his bum front leg, never leaving Ron's side. Sarge was almost as talkative but decidedly grumpy; he was battling some kind of knee problem, and on the rare occasion that Matthews stood up he walked around with an uncomfortable limp. Matthews and Kittle were seemingly well-acquainted, so between autographs Ron would turn to Sarge to banter and keep the mood light. In contrast Hartenstine was relatively quiet, reserved and polite. His reputation as a workmanlike, stoic football player translated into his personality.

The signing went on until 7:30. The crowds had died down at least fifteen minutes earlier, which allowed the guests and handlers to nab some free pizza. Mr. Love had a prior engagement that evening, so his handler picked him up at half past seven on the dot. Before we walked out, Dean gave Butterbean a half-dozen or so photos from his heyday. Apparently, Love's wife took all his memorabilia in a recent divorce, and he had nothing basketball-related to his name. Butterbean turned out to be a modest and graceful man, if not aloof and a little incoherent. Sarge hobbled out about ten minutes later, followed shortly by Kittle and his dog. Hartenstine nonchalantly left last, but not before I shook his hand. I went home with two autographed 8x10 photos and two signed trading cards, my pay for a hard night's work.

I try to avoid idolizing professional athletes. I respect that beyond their tremendous physical abilities, they're Working Joes like you and me. Where the average person can hone their craft for fifty years, an athlete taps out at twenty (if that). They can be kind and humble or selfish and vainglorious. Respect is earned, not innate. The four former professional athletes I met that night couldn't have been more disparate. One was a nurturer, where another was nurtured. One smiled as another scowled. One embraced the spotlight while another stayed unperturbed. (The "one" was Kittle, obviously.) For ninety incomparable minutes I caught in a polytheistic cult of personality, one that I'm not sure I can duplicate or compare to again.

*I apologize for naming names, but if you ever run into either of these guys, now you know.

Through Another Freshman's Eyes

Last year, I wrote a blog post about "The Mindset List," the famed article published every year by the sociology department at Beloit College.  This year's college freshmen --or next year's sophomores, if you will-- were born mostly in 1992 or 1993, and I attempted to estimate their worldview. This year, most soon-to-be high school grads were born in late 1993 or early-to-mid 1994, right smack in the middle of Bill Clinton's first term in office.  Even though Prof. Ron Nief and his staff won't publish their annual list until early August, I thought I'd give it another stab. Some items didn't necessitate repeating, so here's a link to last year's list if you think you see anything omitted.

With that said, if you are an incoming college freshman...

...Martin Brodeur has always been the starting goalie for the New Jersey Devils.
...the World Series has never been cancelled, and relations between Major League Baseball and the Player's Union have been relatively peaceful.
...you only remember one Chicago Bulls three-peat.
...when you hear the name O.J. Simpson, you're much more likely to associate it with a triple homicide than with football.
...when you hear the term Alzheimer's Disease, you associate it with Ronald Reagan.
...the Summer and Winter Olympics have always been held in seperate, two-year alternating spans.
...Jason Kidd, Grant Hill, and Juwan Howard have always played in the NBA.
...Richard Nixon, Kurt Cobain, Jackie Kennedy Onassis, Cesar Romero, Tip O'Neill, Bill Hicks, Dinah Shore, Telly Savalas, John Candy, John Wayne Gacy, Henry Mancini, Burt Lancaster, Raul Julia, and Jeffrey Dahmer have always been dead.
...Johnny Carson never appeared on TV in your lifetime.
...you have never attended a Nirvana or Uncle Tupelo concert.
...you never saw Phil Hartman on "Saturday Night Live."
...first-run episodes of "The Simpsons" have always aired on Sunday nights.
...People Weekly --er, I mean People-- has always been published in full color.
...the phrase "Don't touch that dial!" makes no sense whatsoever.
...kids raised in Chicago have never watched Bozo the Clown before heading to school.
...you have never ordered anything from the Sears "Big Book."
...you have never had a sip of Crystal Pepsi.
...Newt Gingrich has always been a major player in American politics.
...the Federal Assault Weapons Ban and the Brady Bill have always been in effect.
...there has always been a member of the Kardashian family in the news.
...Aldrich Ames has always been in prison.
...there have always been prisoners and refugees at Guantanamo Bay.
...Rwanda has always been synonymous with genocide.
...there have always been alter girls.

That's a lot to think about. If you have anything else to add, let me know. Next week I look at the year in music, 1982 so keep your nostalgia hats on.

Sonic Blast

Earlier tonight was Game 4 of the NBA Eastern Conference Finals, pitting the star-studded, narcissistic Miami Heat against the gritty, well-rounded Chicago Bulls. This is the Bulls' first conference final appearance since 1998, when Michael Jordan willed the oldest team in the NBA to a sixth and final title. Admittedly, if you're a sports fan and came of age in Chicago in the 1990s, chances are you were spoiled by the Bulls' dynasty. Admittedly, I almost completely missed out.

You see, by the time the Bulls were on the road to their third three-peat, I had actually grown tired of their constant winning. The 1995-96 season, in which the Bulls set the single-season record for wins, was both an exciting and tedious experience. On one hand, the level of talent on their roster was incomparable, and they'd run laps against the most of their opponents. However, nearly every win was a blowout, and half the time there was no point in watching beyond the second quarter.

Between Jordan's first retirement and comeback, I had grown a soft spot for the Seattle Supersonics. The roster they had at the time --Shawn Kemp, Gary Payton, Sam Perkins, Detlef Schrempf, and so forth-- was a tad topheavy but had all the qualities of a contender. I owned a Sonics cap with the classic green and yellow skyline logo and a T-shirt with the slightly less memorable red-and-green icon they wore in the second half of the '90s.

With my noted fanship of the Sonics, imagine the conflict of interest that arose when the Bulls faced Seattle in the 1996 NBA Finals. On the day after the Western Conference Finals ended, I wore my Kemp jersey to school with all the pride and hubris an 11-year-old could muster. At lunchtime, a girl in my fifth-grade class* sat across from me, and without ever taking her eyes off my jersey she started talking smack about "my" Sonics. I was a fairly sensitive kid, and I already had a reputation for outbursts that irked most of my peers, but that didn't really hinder them from teasing or making passive-aggressive comments.

So naturally, I had to defend my honor the only way I knew how: by screaming at the girl to knock it off, than go on a crying jag. One of the volunteer "lunch moms" had to walk me out of the gymnasium/assembly hall/cafeteria so I could cool off. Alas, the damage had been done: word of the incident spread throughout the school, and as the Bulls manhandled the Sonics en route to their fourth title, my last two weeks of fifth grade bordered on excrusiating. The teasing was almost constant.

As the 1996-97 school year began, the tension between me and my classmates was down to a simmer, but now I was known for being "anti-Bulls." I still wasn't rooting for them, but I never hated them per se, yet my shame kept me from discussing hoops at length. There were brief perks of derision when Chicago faced the Utah Jazz in the '97 and '98 Finals, but nothing at the level of what happened when the Bulls faced Seattle. Even though John Stockton had been one of my favorite players for the longest time, I made sure to keep my mouth shut.

Even after Jordan retired for the second time and Bulls GM Jerry Krause gutted the roster for salary cap space, the resentment lingered. The stigma of anti-fanship didn't really die out until 2000 or so, when Krause finally traded away Toni Kukoc and Dickey Simpkins, the last remnants of those championship teams. I shifted my focus to baseball and hockey, and whatever taunting I went through during the '96 Finals was either forgotten or dismissed as juvenilia. I went from a small, close-knit grammar school where I finished 6th grade with 29 other kids, to a high school where I graduated with 499 of my peers, and maybe a handful were semi-aware of my odd fanship. When the Sonics closed up shop and moved nearly 1,600 miles in 2008, I barely batted an eyelash.

So do I support the Bulls now? Yes, though not with the same passion I display for the Royals or Blackhawks. Watching this potential new dynasty blossom has been both a relief after years of losing, but also an opportunity to look back at my awkward childhood and the mistakes I might've made. In the wake of "The Decision," LeBron James and company have become the supposed villains of the NBA, which only makes this Bulls team all the easier to root for. As such, I'm also disappointed that Miami has now taken a near-insurmountable 3 games to 1 lead. If Miami wins Game 5, I'll shift my fairweather support to whoever wins the west, whether that'd be the Dallas Mavericks or the OKC Thunder... formerly known, of course as the Seattle Supersonics.

Next Week: the year in music, 1998.

*This girl came from a family of athletes, so she knew her stuff. She was later the captain of the varsity volleyball team in high school, and her older brother was a low-level draft pick by the Milwaukee Brewers in 2001.