Some researcher should do a study of depression among Chicago sports reporters over the next few months. Or, for that matter, among Chicago sports fans.

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It wasn’t just me who was falling back into a funk. Although the beat writers and others covering the Bulls on a daily basis are giddy to have actual news to concentrate on (not to mention the month of June suddenly open for vacations), others in the media less involved with the day-to-day operations and more devoted to basketball aesthetics soon became despondent. At halftime of the home opener, with the Bulls trailing 46-39 and lucky to be that close, someone came up to a group of us in the press box and said, “Can you believe only months ago we were watching the greatest basketball team in the world?” A week ago last Sunday, while the Bulls were missing their first six shots from the field against the San Antonio Spurs, I overheard one person on press row turn to another and say, “If I want to watch bad basketball, I can watch my daughter’s sixth-grade team play. That’s better. At least I give a shit.”

There are fans in this town, some of them good friends of mine, who have actually had their interest piqued by the rebuild-a-Bulls. It’s the thrill of the new, getting in on the ground floor–the idea that they might actually be able to get tickets now–that has them excited. Yet I think even they are apt to be disillusioned when they see the Bulls in person. Although general manager Jerry Krause has done a fine job of burning the roster down to the nubs, painful vestiges of the glory years remain–and not just as banners in the rafters. The public-address crew continues to play the same old music at the same old times–“They’re playing our songs,” a disheartened fan wants to moan–as well as the same old “Only the Bulls” music video. Who is the most beautiful, exciting team in all of sports? the songs asks, as Michael Jordan and Scottie Pippen fly and jam and laugh uncontrollably on the sidelines. “Only the Bulls, only the Bulls, only the one and only Chicago Bulls!” And these guys now wearing the uniform ain’t them. You’d think that somebody would have felt a little sensitivity about subjecting the new players–and the old fans–to fresh memories of the good old days. Yet the team even has a new highlight reel featuring shots from the six championships that plays right before the pregame introductions. To watch Michael Jordan highlights as a way of introducing these Bulls is like looking at pictures of old lovers and then having your dog go down on you.

Kukoc–who had followed his 6-of-21 shooting performance against the Hawks with a 4-of-22 night against the Knicks–again had looked tentative. But he caught a pass and made a shot in rhythm, seemingly without thinking, to cut the Spurs’ lead to 31-26, popped out and made a shot on the Bulls’ next possession, then drew the double team with his back to the basket and delivered a Tom Boerwinkle over-the-shoulder pass to Mark Bryant, open under the net. So the Bulls kept the score respectable, 44-36, at the half. Kukoc looked beautiful throughout the third quarter, demanding the ball, scoring at will over Sean Elliott, and piloting the Bulls back into the game. Saving a ball going out of bounds, he passed to Randy Brown, who ran down the court and made the shot that tied the score at 55.