As Reinsdorf meeting looms, Bulls coach Billy Donovan should run — and run fast!
Run, Billy! Just freakin’ run!
Like your last name was Gump, like O.J. in airports and in white Broncos, like DMC was your partner, like Ryan Poles gave you a contract to replace D’Andre Swift and Kyle Monangai, like Sha’Carri Richardson would be afraid to line up against you, as if your career depended on how fast you got away.
Run fast, run hard, run far. Then run farther. Distance yourself from this organization like the entire UK did Ye. Yeah, Jesus walked but you, my friend, got a whole other kinda devil trying to bring you down.
With the rumors (so many rumors) in both the pubic and social spaces of what’s going to go down in next week’s meeting between Bulls coach Billy Donovan and ownership — everything from convincing him to stay as coach as they seek replacements of the second of their failed GM/EVP combo to possibly offering him both aforementioned positions with him having a primary role in selecting who actually replaces him as head coach — a sense of forlorn urgency creeps upon the situation for Donovan.
Don’t pay attention to a thing CEO Michael Reinsdorf said Wednesday, don’t listen to a damn thing they pitch to you next week. Run!
A family that purchased the Bulls (for a little over $9 million) the year after it drafted Michael Jordan (1985) with money the patriarch had acquired through co-founding a real-estate company (Balcor) and selling it to American Express (1994) that is currently valued at over $5 billion has, if you removed Jordan’s Era and the five-season Derrick Rose/Tom Thibodeau Era that followed a generation later, operated honestly at an F-minus functionality level in relation and comparison to most other teams in the NBA. Those two eras for the most part have saved the Bulls.
But neither play any role in where the franchise as a whole is or what its ownership group has in mind moving forward. “Too little, too late” seems to be the ecumenical sentiment of their latest move to finally clean out the front office. “Privileged apathy” seems to be the overwhelming sentiment of how and why we got here. Both sentiments point directly to the people who will be in control of the meeting with Donovan and his potential future.
This is why “Run, Billy, Run” should be the song The Temptations sequel their “Charlie” classic with.
(Don’t you just love when music lyrics imitate life?)
Honestly, I’d never been a fan of Donovan’s during much (probably closer to half) of his tenure as Bulls coach. That was until what was exposed over the last two seasons, when we all got to see the obvious: “Damn, this ain’t Billy’s fault at all!” When we realized that what he was really dealing with, when we collectively began to feel sorry for him.
In a sense (outside of Patrick Williams) Donovan should be considered the Last Samurai in all of this, when it all goes down. Walk into the meeting, confront the Emperor (Jerry if there, Michael if not) with the proverbial sword, sacrifice the life of his future with the franchise while rejecting their offer to remain, disappear into the NBA unknown until the Knicks fire Mike Brown.
Just don’t be stuck in an Advocate Center office after practice next season listening to the Doobie Brother’s “Minute By Minute,” replaying Michael McDonald’s lyric of “You think I’m your fool/Well, you may just be right” over and over and over again. My guy: They aren’t worth your torture.
John Hollinger’s point in the Athletic about “Bulls’ GM hire won’t matter if they aren’t honest with themselves” is valid. It’s just a matter of what “honesty” honestly looks like to them. Because if we’re being honest … as Zach Lowe said one NBA executive said to him when speaking about the executive openings of the Bulls and why he wouldn’t take it: “I don’t trust the ownership.” Verbatim.
Billy, don’t wait to see the majesty of their grand plan. You’ve already given six years of your coaching career to them. Any more benefits them, not you. What you’ve gotten in return so far is a stain impossible to remove from your HOF coaching career. A scarlet (blood) red “B.”
One that shouldn’t have any continuing years associated with it after 2026. Please let this be your “Year of the Exit.” Take to heart what Salt (of Salt-N-Pepa) said on-record the year after the people you are meeting with purchased this team: “My cow just died, I don’t need your Bull.”