Everyone’s Pretty Revolting in Last Days of Dynasty

It’s business as usual for the Chicago Bulls, your full-service dynasty that offers icons to adore, scheming owners to outguess and villains to bash.

The icon, Michael Jordan, is successfully holding off old age at 35, although it slips up on him for a half here and there.

The hairs on the back of owner Jerry Reinsdorf’s neck are tingling as he imagines millions of fans in the streets, brandishing little red Bulls souvenirs--which he sold them-- chanting, “Send out Reinsdorf!”

Then there’s Dennis Rodman, up to his usual no good--skipping a practice, hiding out in the dressing room when he’s benched so when Coach Phil Jackson wants to put him in, he has to tell the trainer to find him--twice.

Rodman’s on-court impact has been minimal and even the Chicago press is bashing away (or as the Sun-Times’ Rick Telander mused, “ . . . stupid, self-centered, hedonistic.”)

Jackson, loyal (he’s the one who insisted they re-sign this self-promoting wacko) to the end (which is near), said he and Rodman would talk. It turned out to be a chat “in front of the whole group.” In other words, what, me worry at this late date?

Jackson also did one of his numbers, lecturing the press on “responsibility”--specifically citing the Tribune--and telling Rodman this whole thing didn’t represent punishment, but “distortion” by the media.

The distortion seemed to lie in the behavior of writers who prodded Jordan after Game 2 into snarling, “This is the crucial time of the season. Last thing we need is some BS from Dennis.”

Also, they asked if he was worried that Rodman was flaking out, to which Jordan sneered, “He isn’t flaking out. He just wants attention.”

This obliged Jackson to dedicate the next three days to repairing the psychic damage. Showing that old unity, the players came back a day later, parroting the coach’s line.

“Dennis don’t have no problem,” Ron Harper said. “Everybody said he was late to a game. He’s late to every game. Who cares? You all [reporters] care. That’s your fault.”

Said Jordan: “If Phil says no big deal, it’s no big deal.”

Of course, the Sun-Times also reported Rodman didn’t actually skip the practice in question, but arrived so late that “irritated teammates”--who else could it have been but Jordan?--wouldn’t let him join in.

(It might be noted, Jackson seems on better terms with the Sun-Times than the Tribune. Why might he defend Rodman while leaking embarrassing details? Why, to drive Rodman back into the bosom of the team! The Machiavellian coach has done it before.)

Putting a little ribbon on it, Jackson asserted Rodman does care about the team and has made many compromises.

“He’s had to be more attentive than he’s ever been before,” Jackson says. “Dennis has given up his whole life: wrestling, movies, MTV.”

This sounds like Jackson’s story to NBC, in which he claimed Rodman celebrated his birthday partying all over the Midwest. Asked later if he was joking, Jackson answered, “Well, a little of both.”

By now, of course, Rodman was at the center of a media event. TNT’s Craig Sager bragged to USA Today TV critic Rudy Martzke (it’s what they do in tube-land): “A lot of people knock Dennis and scold him for his tardiness. We get his side of the story. He tells us, ‘If we lose, it’s going to be Dennis Rodman’s fault. If we win, Michael Jordan will get the credit.’ ”

This self-pitying denial is a “side”? It’s more like a sound bite, which is the same thing on TV.

On the court, the Bulls are wisdom itself and, of course, they have the incomparable Jordan. Off it, they’ve become a parody of themselves, like a team of professional wrestlers. And then there’s their arrogance.

Are they admirable or tiresome? Well, it’s a little of both, but fatigue is moving up fast on the outside.

AH, THE ANNUAL IMPLOSION

News item: Celebrities flee as Laker bandwagon jumps guard rail . . . again.

Growing up is hard to do, but even cutting them enough slack to make a mistake or two, you’d like to see an occasional season that doesn’t end with a pratfall.

1996--With Magic Johnson back, the Rockets dispatch them in the first round in four, amid much finger-pointing.

1997--Nick Van Exel and Del Harris feud as the Jazz takes them out in five.

1998--Lakers look awesome. The Jazz proves they’re not.

As overpowering as they seemed this time, all they did was polish off the Seattle SuperSonics, who’d barely survived a challenge by the Minnesota Timberwolves, in the last, quivering days of George Karl. Whatever, the second round was early to go into their home run trot, crow that they wanted the Jazz and do Leonardo DiCaprio’s lines from “Titanic.”

There are many ways to go that wouldn’t dishonor them, but this wasn’t one of them, making a lot of noise before again going quietly.

They didn’t even compete in Game 1--four losses and you’re out and you give one away?--succumbed in a waltz-time Game 2 and saw the Jazz have one of those nights in Game 3, shooting 52%, making seven of 11 three-point baskets. Now the Lakers have the life expectancy of an hors d’oeuvre.

(Oh, yes, about the respective fans: An estimated 12,000 were in their Forum seats when Game 3 began. If the Lakers want everyone there by tipoff, they might consider importing 17,505 of those hooligans from Salt Lake City.)

Where was the memory of last season’s bitter pill? Eddie Jones’ remark--”It’s tough to see that, a couple of old guys kicking our butt”--suggests they still didn’t realize who they were in against. Meanwhile, the Jazz paid them the ultimate compliment, taking them seriously and dialing up its game, accordingly.

Nor did the Lakers incline toward self-examination when they found themselves in trouble. Instead, it was referees, noise and the hostile crowd.

Had they looked in the mirror, this is what they might have seen:

Shaquille O’Neal--He’s the least of their problems but when he runs the tape, he’ll see himself battling three defenders while his teammates watch slack-jawed. He needed to make a move, draw the defense, then find someone open.

He shrugged off the tackling and hacking (compare him to Alonzo Mourning, “defending his manhood”) but still got upset about it when he had more important things to worry about.

As an issue, forget it. It was always thus in the post, a 320-pounder pushing in one direction, a 275-pounder pushing in the other, the referees trying to sort it out. Shaq has been around six seasons. The way it is is the way it will be.

Jones--He came a long way in the Seattle series when everything came easy and battled in this one, when nothing did. If everyone fought as hard, it wouldn’t be 3-0.

Kobe Bryant--An idiot could tell you he’s beyond special. A basketball man would tell you he still has to learn the most basic thing of all, let the game come to him.

Robert Horry--As Karl Malone might say, I know power forwards and you’re no power forward.

Van Exel--He was great early in the season. He was hurt in the middle. He was stubborn late. He was a backup in this series and no factor. As Kenny Mayne says in that ESPN ad, “I don’t even know who you are any more.”

FACES AND FIGURES

With league and union officials carrying on only a casual dialogue--they even skipped last week’s meeting--there is growing certainty this is only the calm before the lockout, expected to go down July 1, just enough time to finish the finals, the draft--and perhaps another blockbuster or two. Before he was traded, Chris Webber told confidantes he had been told to expect it--adding that David Robinson was about to be moved too. . . . Sources close to negotiations say the league has asked for a six-year rookie scale, with the last three years not guaranteed. The league also has asked for a hard cap but, reportedly, has not broached specific numbers. There is suspicion that Stern won’t reveal his proposal until bargaining starts in earnest, this summer, after the lockout.

At 33 and $8.4 million, Kevin Johnson was too old and pricey for rebuilding Phoenix, but given good health, he would help a lot of contenders. “Kevin’s one of the few players in the league who have averaged 20 [points] and 10 [assists],” Sun teammate Danny Manning said. “Those guys are hard to find. I don’t know if he’s still a 20-10 player because he’d have to play a lot of minutes, and I don’t know if that’s in his best interest. But he can play at the same level for fewer minutes.” Or fewer games: KJ played 50 games last season and has averaged only 58 over the last six.

Now it can be told: After insisting for years that the NBA wasn’t so tough, the Timberwolves’ Kevin Garnett described what it was really like for a high school kid to join a team in the last days of Christian Laettner and Isaiah Rider: “It was hellfire. Guys going after other guys, guys upset at coaches, all kinds of stuff. I said to myself, ‘This is the league? This is where I dreamed of playing?’ Grown men acting like this. Guys moping on the bench, one guy saying he’s going to kick somebody’s butt. Sometimes being in the middle of two guys who wanted to go at it. I started telling my boys, ‘Go to school, man, stay in school.’ The attitudes shocked me.”