Dec. 09--Forty-eight hours later, Derrick Rose finished his thought.
Thank goodness.
It was worth the wait to hear Rose finally say something that made Chicago well up in pride instead of wince, to see evidence of Rose's maturity our city has become quick to judge. We all know Rose can be inelegant as a public speaker. But this wasn't about Rose finding the right words as much as sending a strong message. This was about a professional athlete with a social conscience extending his reach and, whether you agreed with his stance or not, engendering respect.
"I'm just trying to change the thoughts of kids' minds across the nation," Rose said Monday at the Advocate Center. "I think it touched a lot of people and I just wanted to make sure I got my point across."
Rose drove it home Saturday night at the United Center before the Bulls' game against the Warriors when he wore a black "I can't breathe" T-shirt. Not even Rose's best-selling shoe for Adidas carries as much value as that shooting shirt. He will not be fined by the league. He should be applauded by the masses.
The words on the front were the ones Eric Garner repeatedly uttered July 17 after police in Staten Island, N.Y., apprehended him for selling loose, untaxed cigarettes. Police put a chokehold on Garner, who later died from neck compressions. The protests and outrage that erupted nationally after a New York grand jury declined to indict the arresting officer mirrored the response last month to Ferguson, Mo. In Missouri, a grand jury opposed charging the policeman who shot an unarmed Michael Brown to death in August during an altercation.
Garner and Brown were black. Both policemen involved in the respective incidents are/ white. A national conversation on race and police brutality intensified and Rose, a proud son of Chicago's South Side, demanded to be heard. The same way Rose stepped in to help Chicago youth last summer with a $1 million donation to After School Matters.
"Usually I stay out of politics and police brutality (and) I'm not saying all cops are bad or anything, I'm just saying that what happened was uncalled for and I think it hurt a lot of people," Rose said. "It hurt the nation."
This wasn't a message carefully choreographed within Rose's heavy-handed inner circle. This was his idea, born when watching news reports between Bulls games and shared only with best friend Randall Hampton. This was Rose aiming to improve society like he always imagined doing as a boy whenever his mother, Brenda, would tell stories about Malcolm X, "somebody I looked up to when I was younger," he said.
Because of knee injuries that altered Rose's image as much as his Bulls career, so often we look at him and see a $300 million spokesman for Today's Pampered Pro Athlete; a 26-year-old man managed coolly and calculatedly like the corporation he now is. On Monday, perhaps we saw who Rose really wants to be.
"(My family) always call me a rebel," Rose said. "I stay to myself and kind of do whatever I want, not to hurt anybody. I just do it my own way."
He planned to express his thoughts Saturday night, but a bad loss to the Warriors put the point guard in a bad mood. So he left without comment, leaving a commendable statement incomplete. Sports includes a rich history of silent protests, none greater than the raised fists of U.S. Olympic sprinters Tommie Smith and John Carlos at the 1968 Mexico City Games to salute black power. But this particular message improved with the personal perspective Rose provided eloquently Monday when he preached about the need for patience and understanding from blacks and whites.
"I saw it every day," he said. "Not killing or anything, but I saw the violence every day and just seeing what can happen. If anything, I'm just trying to change the thoughts of the kids' minds across the nation. I know what they're thinking. I was one of them kids."
A relaxed Rose spent 15 minutes explaining why wearing the T-shirt was important to him as a father, as a kid who grew up in Englewood and as a man. He wanted black teens in tough areas to know he was just like them. He spoke from the heart, and from experience.
"He wants to stand for something," Bulls coach Tom Thibodeau said. "It's a great message about equality and justice for everybody."
LeBron James called it "spectacular," and -- with Cavaliers teammates -- wore an "I can't breathe" T-shirt on Monday night. Lions running back Reggie Bush did the same thing Sunday. As powerful as it was watching five Rams players raising their arms in the "Hands up, don't shoot" gesture to honor Brown, seeing NBA players copy Rose's T-shirt tribute to Garner resonated every bit as much. With three words, a soft-spoken superstar from a major sport elevated the discussion on police violence in this country.
"I wouldn't say it's a turning point," Rose said. "But it's a start."
America's listening, D-Rose. Keep talking.
dhaugh@tribpub.com
Twitter @DavidHaugh
