Bulls' losing has us longing for mediocrity again

Unequivocal, they are. Proving themselves over and over, again and again, that just when you think their bottom can’t get any lower, lo and behold, they submerge ever further.

Welcome to the end of the 2025-26 season for the Bulls. A season that took two left turns (or hooks) at the trade deadline. An all-L’s February. A fall from a place far from grace. Which probably even had Derrick Rose asking, “Do I really want my jersey hanging up in that building?”

The new: We’re not used to this. Lemme clarify exactly what “this” is, because when it comes to the Bulls, “this” can mean far too many things. “This” is the earliest exit they have given us in this new era (is “future” a better term?) of Bulls basketball. For the last four seasons, we’ve been at least used to a push for a .500 finish and a fight for a play-in spot — at the least, an extra game against the Heat. But this season, nothing close to that will be happening. This time, the Bulls decided to Kevorkian themselves before March. Remove all illusion of optimism with 30 games left.

What has come upon us is the most meaningless month of March professional basketball the city has had to accept since 2017-20, when it seemed like playing below .350 basketball was the priority. No game for the remainder of this month — or verifiably the rest of the season — will have meaning. We deserve better. Or do we? Because we, as in this city, have to take some accountability for allowing the Bulls to use mediocrity, complacency and apathy as a ceiling. Never thinking that they’d ever think of using wallpaper instead of drywall as the ceiling.

While still acting like the crib they have us living in has value.

The blips: Day one of March. It was as if the bookended outskirts of February were the only thing not allergic to W’s. Black History Month into Bulls Are History Month. Collin Sexton led all Bulls with 22 points off the bench (after starting the game before), Matas Buzelis came up with 20 while having one of his strongest defensive performances and Josh Giddey messed around and got another triple-double (20/14/10) while playing over 30 minutes for the first time since the All-Star break. It all contributed to ending their 11-game, monthlong winless streak against a Bucks team that only a day before believed it was getting Giannis Antetokounmpo back for the first time since January.

It was as if the sun fought hard to show itself through the dark clouds that have been the Bulls’ existence this season, only to realize that it didn’t shine long enough to melt the snow on the ground. And in their very next game, against the defending world champs, day three of March, it snowed.

On the fifth day, the sun came out as the Suns came out to play. Two more wins in March than in the entire month of February.

The pile on: It began 10 games before the All-Star break, right after they secured their 23rd win of the season and sat one game above .500. During a 12-game stretch, they ranked 24th in the NBA in defense and 29th in offense. They turned the ball over nearly 18% of the time. They were 27th in field-goal percentage, 23rd in defensive rebounding.

Coming out of the All-Star break, they were 7-2 against the Eastern Conference’s top eight teams. Since then, they’re 0-3 against them, not including a 32-point loss to the No. 9 Hornets.

Now they’re 11 games under .500 and 20 games outta first place in the Central. Eleven games ahead of the team that went to the NBA Finals last season. The ninth-worst record in the NBA. Yay them.

With a triage unit resembling “The Pitt” of discovered and mysterious player injuries, including back-to-back, same-game ankle injuries to Giddey and Buzelis, a possible season-ending injury to Jaden Ivey, the calf strain of Jalen Smith, the quad strain of Patrick Williams, the season shutdown of Zach Collins and the probable shutdown of Anfernee Simons, it would be comical if there wasn’t this inescapable feeling that the Bulls brought every troy ounce of this misfortune on themselves.

The clap. The seal: I referred to this as “the end” earlier because that’s what happened when death became the decision the organization made for the season. What the Bulls managed to do as this meaningless month begins is something none of us ever thought they’d have the ability or lack of self-respect to do: Make us wish for mediocrity again.

Of everything foreseen entering this season, “this” wasn’t. The White Sox of the NBA. The connection’s real. Family ties. Leaving us knowing two things — like death and taxes — that are unequivocally certain: We are new to this, and the Bulls are true to this.