As he sat in the bleachers of the Chicago Bulls ' gleaming new practice facility last Wednesday, ready to unburden himself of all the frustrations surrounding what he calls perhaps his "last chance" at glory in Chicago, Joakim Noah first offered a note of caution. But it's early. There is a lot of skill here. Even with all our issues, we are second [now sixth] in the East.
We are still trying to figure out who we are. And that right there, that mixture of hope and uncertainty, is why these Bulls are so interesting in what feels like the final go-round for the remnants of a growling, defense-first pulverizer that has pushed LeBron James as hard as anyone in the Eastern Conference.
There is a powerful team buried in here somewhere, but the longer they fight among themselves and struggle to score, the more it feels like the Bulls won't uncover it.
You see the work and the emotional strain: the slog of every possession for the league's 27th-ranked offense, the players barking at each other, the coaches searching for the right lineup combinations, the hiccups that happen as new pairings experiment.
Almost 30 games in, the Bulls are still figuring out basic things about themselves. They're , with the point differential of a. Our identity has always been: You come to Chicago, you're in for a war. It's not like that right now. I don't care what the numbers say. Just watch the games. There are 25, people in the building, and it's dead quiet. It has never been like that. It's tough to see the building that way.
