Nov. 27--Send Derrick Rose home for Thanksgiving and shut him down until Christmas.
Yes, I mean this Christmas -- not the one in 2015. However, I can't confirm if either Adidas or Rose's handlers have ruled out a 13-month hiatus.
Rose doesn't need another year off but could use a month to get his mind and body right. Mentally and physically, Rose looks and sounds like a mess. The psychological scars within Rose linger as noticeably to outsiders as the ones on both surgically repaired knees.
We have seen flashes of brilliance from the former MVP in the seven of 15 Bulls games he has played. They have been overshadowed by glimpses of a detached guy in street clothes who's more polarizing than ever in his hometown. If Derrick Rose from Englewood were John Smith from Westwood, the benefit of the doubt would be harder for him to find in Chicago. But then so might the scrutiny.
The city's most enigmatic athlete added another layer of mystery around him Tuesday night in Denver when he sat the second half of a 114-109 loss to the Nuggets after he "got fatigued" playing the second of back-to-back games. He wasn't saving himself for family functions or business meetings. The 26-year-old simply admitted feeling gassed. So after 10 tentative minutes in the first half, Rose stayed in the locker room for the third quarter at coach Tom Thibodeau's request to receive treatment on his sore hamstring. At least nobody blamed the altitude.
Rose's absence invited understandable rebuke and ridicule for a guy who paces himself better than a marathon runner. His explanation only made it worse. It usually does.
"Offensively, I just felt like I couldn't get to where I wanted to go, and defensively, just the speed of the game, I just wasn't ready for it fatigue-wise," Rose told reporters. "I'm just trying to be smart."
The smart move now would be for Rose to continue resting a body that keeps breaking down, starting with Friday's road game against the Celtics. Remember, the New Normal with Rose involves putting his long-term health ahead of short-term, game-to-game concerns no matter how repetitive or maddening the process becomes. No matter how soft such decisions make Rose appear. No matter how frustrated the Bulls' reality makes fans or the media.
Recall that just as Rose was returning from two sprained ankles, he injured his hamstring. Hamstrings heal more slowly than sprained ankles and recur as often as any injury in any sport. Why ask for trouble in December?
Ignore the schedule. The 13 Bulls games until Dec. 25 mean much less than the ones they plan to play in April and May. And Rose is less likely to play well in the postseason, or at all, if he spends the entire regular season nagged by a hamstring injury that never went away. The best course: Reduce the risk of reinjury and sit Rose, again. Do not play until Christmas. Time remains on the Bulls' side.
You almost could see a thought bubble appearing over Thibodeau's head postgame Tuesday as he explained his unusual and unexpected decision. Just one day earlier, an exasperated Thibodeau bristled at a legitimate question about Rose looking tired against the Raptors -- "Jesus ... he has to get out there and play," Thibs said -- but now his tone had changed. Now, instead of burying Rose with veiled shots at his toughness, Thibodeau did what good NBA coaches do: He used words to take pressure away from his star and minimize any potential distraction. For a coach who has clashed with the front office, Thibodeau sounded like the consummate company guy who had memorized the mission statement.
"He didn't reinjure himself or anything like that, I just didn't want to take a chance," Thibodeau said. "We have a couple of days now to regroup."
Thibodeau knows a healthy Rose makes the Bulls the best team in the East, especially with Jimmy Butler approaching NBA stardom, and an unhealthy Rose makes them a team likely exiting the playoffs before the conference finals. The summer's arrival of Pau Gasol realistically opened a two-year NBA championship window for the Bulls. Without Rose, it slams shut. That's why Thibodeau will resist the urge to sound as fed up as you feel about all the uncertainty over Rose's regular-season status. That's why you hear Rose's teammates who don't know him as well as Joakim Noah or Butler defend every decision without the hint of resentment.
Chemistry matters, sure, but everybody realizes everything blows up if Rose goes away again because of injury. Everybody on the payroll understands and accepts that the Bulls have no alternative but to let this unpredictable and often unsettling process play out if they have any hope of hugging the Larry O'Brien Trophy.
All the Bulls should want for Christmas is a healthy Derrick Rose. For everybody else awaiting his return to form, patience is a gift that would come in handy too.
dhaugh@tribpub.com
Twitter @DavidHaugh
