I was sitting in a bar in Los Angeles last year, watching the NBA finals, and the bartender said to me: “So you’re a Bulls fan, eh?”
That’s when it hit me—I’ve turned myself into a walking billboard for the franchise.
No, it’s more like 1991 and I’m in the second balcony at Chicago Stadium, screaming my lungs out as Jordan blows by Joe Dumars for a dunk and the Bulls finally get past the Pistons. You know, that portal.
Game six at Phoenix, 1993. Down two, a handful of seconds left. Jordan passes to Pippen, who passes to Grant, who passes to Paxson, who shoots for three. Bulls win!
Just thinking about it’s got me so bummed out I think I’ll watch the closing seconds of that 1993 Knicks game for like the 500th time.
