Derrick Rose and what should have been

The bar was loud and the tables were sticky. The Indiana Pacers and the Chicago Bulls were playing out the first game of their 2011 NBA Playoffs first round matchup. The Pacers were rising, fomenting, and it looked like this might be the start of something. Danny Granger was fire, Roy Hibbert was coming into his own, Darren Collison looked like he might be the answer (although the question hadn’t been decided yet), Paul George was a stumbling foal learning to walk. I was putting back Black Butte Porters and trying to talk myself into Tyler Hansbrough’s pick-and-pop game.

And Derrick Rose…he was mostly hanging out at the free throw line.

In that game, Rose scored 39 points including 19-of-21 from the free throw line. That’s the kind of line that usually inspires conspiracy theories, finger pointing, and wild accusations but there was nothing to argue about here. The Pacers had no one, NO ONE, who could stay in front of Rose. Hibbert had not yet discovered the magic of verticality and so nearly every one of those slicing drives ended up with an awkward foul and Rose shooting two.

This was pretty much a single-game encapsulation of Rose’s MVP campaign from that season, albeit an extreme example of the scoring efficiency side. He was 0-of-9 on three-pointers and handed out just six assists, not exactly classic point guard stuff. But his athleticism and dribble penetration were the offensive engine for a team that was considerably ahead of the Pacers on the track of rising and fomenting.

I remember watching that game, peeling my forearms off the sticky table to cover my eyes as the Pacers melted down in the fourth quarter and lost by five, and being scared for the future. The Bulls were in same division as the Pacers. How would we ever get past Rose and the Bulls, let alone LeBron James and his Miami Heat?

*****

Yesterday, the Bulls traded Derrick Rose to the New York Knicks for an uninspiring package of Jerian Grant, Jose Calderon, and Robin Lopez. Other than the destination and the compensatory details, the trade surprised exactly no one.

This is not the end for Rose, but it’s certainly an ending. He has spent the entirety of his professional career with the Chicago Bulls, the same city he grew up in. Given that every official trace of college career was erased by the NCAA because of rule violations, he has (in an official sense) only every played basketball for teams from Chicago. The link between him and the city is deep — go read “Derrick Rose is Chicago” by Ricky O’Donnell and then come back, I’ll wait. He wasn’t just from the city, he was of the city and that emotional layer was wrapped around the entirety of his era of Bulls’ basketball.

That era, which seemed so terrifying to a lightly buzzed Pacers fan in 2011, will be remembered as a tremendous disappointment. It will be defined by torn connective tissues, and missed games adding up to missed seasons. It will be a promise, made in all good faith, but one that could not be delivered on. These last two seasons, as Rose was finally able to stay on the court with regularity and play basketball again, were a slow-motion disintegration. The injuries robbed Rose of just enough of his athleticism to pull him down into the realm of normal. The nature of his game, without that explosiveness, often made him a detriment to his team. This fact was accentuated by the way the NBA had changed in his absence, away from inefficient volume scorers, and the way he refused to adapt or acknowledge the ascension of Jimmy Butler.

The feeling of waste is terrible. Wasted potential, wasted talent, wasted opportunities — not for the sake of anyone’s personal failings or poor decisions, but because of the bitter cruelty of circumstance. I feel for Chicago fans, even though this trade has been a long time coming and there has been plenty of time to reconcile hopes and reality when it comes to Rose’s career. I feel for fans of basketball who never had the chance to witness the full-flowering of that Chicago Bulls team (although, selfishly, I’m glad there was space for a mini-Pacers renaissance). And I feel for Rose, who has been sent away from his home, from the city he was supposed to save.

Thibodeau is gone. Deng is gone. Noah is gone. And now, so is Rose.

I believe that there is still productive basketball in Rose, although probably not $20 million-worth. I am not sure if the Knicks are the team to temper his usage and shot selection and make worthwhile use of his residual penetration ability. New York offers a chance at redemption, I suppose, although it will be of a more modest sort. If Rose proves his utility, perhaps he plays out the the entire season and is brought back on a more modest contract.

Even in that scenario, his future and the Knicks’ are probably not intertwined. There are no more MVPs in his future — Rose’s destiny, it appears, is not to shine. But he could do something for these Knicks, help showcase Porzingis, bring some grit and pluck, maybe recast himself in the role of damaged underdog instead of fallen star. Or, if nothing else, fade out and offer cap space for use on someone else.

*****

What seems certain seldom is. Darren Collison was not the answer and neither were Roy Hibbert or Tyler Hansbrough’s pick-and-pop game. The Chicago Bulls were not the impending juggernaut they appeared to be. Derrick Rose was brilliant and he was terrifying. Then he was broken and sympathetic, then stubborn and out-of-touch.

Now he’s just the starting point guard for the New York Knicks.

For more NBA content, check out our FanSided NBA content hub.