I loved the ’90s Bulls. I couldn’t get enough of MJ, Pip and the rest of the merry gang of championship winners. They were the only team in Chicago sports history to actually exceed expectations over a period of time. Chicago doesn’t get to win six titles in eight years in anything. Well, maybe in “Hog Butcher to the World” or whatever Chicago used to be.

But even non-basketball fans got caught up in the Bulls insane amount of success. Every June it was the same thing. Watch the Bulls emasculate some Western Conference pretender, then go out and buy another championship t-shirt.

So you’d think that the mere thought of Scottie Pippen pulling on the old 33 and coming back for the last two years of his career would have me positively giddy, right?

Well, I actually kind of am.

But not for the obvious reasons. Look, Scottie was a great player. During the run of six titles in eight years he was the best all-around player in the NBA. Nobody had the versatility of our man Pip. Great defender, great passer, streaky shooter, the whole bit. Even at 37 he can still play. He needs his minutes cut down and he needs to get on the Allen Iverson “Practice?” regimen to save his legs and achin’ back.

He’ll help the 2003-04 Bulls, too. They need somebody to tell Jalen Rose to shut the hell up once and a while. They need somebody with the balls to get in Jalen’s face and tell him that at the end of every close game this year we won’t stand for watching Jalen dribble at the top of the key for 21 seconds and then hoist up a brick.

But most importantly, the retun of Scottie sends a message to the rest of the NBA. Remember all that crap about how the Bulls treated Michael and Scottie so shabbily? You and I are both smart enough to know that was all crap. And with Scottie deciding to come back and finish up in Chicago, it’s hard for that message to endure. Just how bad could things be if Scottie was happy to come back?

Signing Scottie costs the Bulls the potential services of Ira Newble. Pardon me while I laugh hysterically at the notion that anybody named Ira Newble is worth missing.

I think one Bull in particular will benefit most from having Scottie around. What is Tyson Chandler if not a 7’1 version of young Scottie? Actually, he’s Scottie with an actual personality, which is nice for us, the home viewer.

What we don’t want is Scottie sitting down with Marcus Fizer late at night and having the two of them trade firearm possession arrest stories. Keep it to yourselves, guys.

And so the 2003-04 Bulls will roll out a starting lineup of Jamal Crawford (6’6), Jalen Rose (6’8), Scottie Pippen (6’7), Tyson Chandler (7’1) and Eddy Curry (7’0). Not bad. Maybe in the near future we’ll have a June t-shirt run to make?

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It may have been just me, but as I sat on the couch on July 11 and watched Mark Prior somersault over Marcus Giles, I immediately thought of two guys. Ron Powlus and Cade McNown.

Now why would they spring to mind?

I still remember Melvin “The Beast” Dansby describe how good Ron Powlus was in the fall of 1993 as a true freshman at Notre Dame. He said that in practice he could make throws that nobody had ever made. His ball was a Dan Marino-like laser that locked in on targets and never strayed. Then Powlus broke his collarbone not once, but twice and while he had a good arm, he never had that arm again. It was the difference between being the next Dan Marino and being the next Terry Andrysiak.

I saw for myself how Cade McNown could never back up his on-field bravado after Hugh Douglas left his shoulder in two pieces on the turf in Veterans’ Stadium in Cade’s rookie year. He was always an ass, but at UCLA and early on in his Bears’ career he could cash the checks his mouth was writing because of his left arm. Once he hurt that shoulder, every check bounced.

And there was Mark Prior, the golden boy, lying on the ground, holding his right shoulder.

I just sighed, leaned back and said, “This is just so Cub.”

But then everything was alright. He got up, he stayed in the game. He said his shoulder didn’t hurt.

And he hasn’t pitched since.

Not only that, but now he’s going on the DL, and will be replaced by none other than Sergio Valente, the guy who made those designer jeans that Channel 32 used to run ads for non-stop in the 80s.

Pardon me while I fire up the oven and go put my head in it.

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Meanwhile, if you haven’t noticed, Kerry Wood might just be the best pitcher in the National League right now. Just thought I’d point that out.

—

The Cubs lit up Dontrelle Willis after a 67-minute rain delay seemed to throw the rookie off his game. The Cubs were of course at a distinct advantage because they had a grizzled veteran pitching for them, and rain delays have no effect on grizzled veterans like Carlos Zambrano. Dontrelle is 21. Carlos is 22.

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Over the weekend, I got caught up on my TiVo watching and sat through the four hours that was the ESPN Pete Rose trial. This thing was absolute comedy gold. Here were some of the “witnesses” who testified in the trial.

– Jim Palmer
– Steve Garvey
– Bill James
– Bill Lee
– Dave Parker
– Dan Shaugnessy

The defense lawyer was Johnnie Cochran and the prosecutor was Alan Dershowitz. For the most part they treated the witnesses with great care, even though you could have beaten every one of them to a pulp. I would have enjoyed that.

Jim Palmer: “Isn’t it true Mr. Palmer that you famous Jockey underwear poster not only advertised the underwear but also their brand of socks since you had one stuffed in there?”

Steve Garvey: “Everyone thought you were going to go into politics after you left baseball, what happened? Was it because you lied to everybody for 15 years about what a great guy you were and didn’t acknowledge that you had knocked up women all over California?”

Dave Parker: “Isn’t it true you never saw Pete Rose gamble because when he was on the phone with his bookie you were in the bathroom with a hand held mirror, a credit card and a rolled up $100 bill?”

Dan Shaugnessy: “Didn’t Carl Everett give you a nickname? What is it?”

But…easily the best moment in the trial was in fact, a witness who got skewered on the stand. Alan Dershowitz earned my undying devotion by absolutely savaging smug, repugnant baseball “saberguru” Bill James. He took an article James had written about what a sham the Dowd report was and caught James three different times with his own arguments. James sat there, wearing a tie that’s older than me, stammering and spitting and somewhere Flannel Boy was watching on TV and weeping for his hero. Had I been at the trial, I’d have carried Deshowitz off on my shoulders after James sat down and declared him the winner.

As it was, the trial was mainly an exercise in futility. The “jury” (which included Boston radio dumbass Eddie Andelman) was asked to find whether or not Pete Rose should be eligible for election of the Hall of Fame.

Johnnie Cochran basically proved this point about ten minutes into the trial when he got “Dowd report expert” and good guy Chicagoan Lester Munson to agree that at the time Rose signed his agreement for a lifetime ban with an opportunity to appeal every year, that Rose was still eligible for election to the Hall, and that a year later, Fay Vincent persuaded the Hall of Fame to change its rules so that Rose could not be elected. That was the case. No matter if Rose bet on baseball, no matter if he bet against the Reds, no matter if he ran naked through the Riverfront Stadium outfield chasing Scottzie Six around, Rose should have been eligible for the Hall of Fame.

Bill Lee’s testimony was the highlight. He was asked what he thought of Rose, “he’s an ass.” He was asked if he liked Pete, “no.” But he was asked if Pete belonged in the Hall of Fame and he said, “if you gave me a shovel, I’d bury him. But he should be in the Hall of Fame.”

—

And finally (mock applause fills the Internet), last night HBO ran two new episodes of “Project Greenlight.” Remember last year when that weenie Pete Jones won the contest and made maybe the worst movie of the 21st Century? Well, this year the show is a lot better because the directors are actually good at what they do. But, it’s even more entertaining because they are so blatantly passive agressive that if it was you, or I who had written the script that they are mauling, they’d be sporting fresh shiners.

What is best about this show is that it shows two things:

1) People who make movies are idiots! They’re dumber than we are. You or I could make a movie in two weeks, where it takes them a month because they have to keep fixing their screw ups.
2) You have no idea when you sit in a theater and watch a movie just how many things went wrong between the beginning of filming and the print you see on the screen. It’s fascinating.

I love this show.

And I make one prediction. If Ben Affleck makes one more bomb on the Bounce or Daredevil level, he’ll be in the “Project Greenlight” movie next year.

Oh, and one last thing. I still think it’s hilarious that Denis Leary did a spoof of this show last year on Comedy Central called “Contest Searchlight” in which he cast several comedians in leading roles and Sports Guy thought it was a real contest. Muahahahahahaha!

Somewhere Phil Collins was singing about rain and Dontrelle Willis was being lit up by the Cubs.

Prior. DL. Depression. Loathing. Me.

Intrepid reader Dennis Goodman points out that when Carlos Zambrano got two hits in the third inning it gave him more multi-hit innings (one) than Lenny Harris has multi-hit GAMES (zero) this year. Wow.

Oh by the way, Carlos is hitting .238 which is also more than either one of his catchers.

Sergio Mitre is a “tough kid.” Great?

He’s also only starting because Alan Benes, Todd Wellemeyer and Juan Cruz would all be pitching on short rest if they started on Tuesday night. So he’s the fourth choice. At best. Wheee!

Scottie’s back and really, it’s like he never left. Well, except for the five years of horrible, non-stop losing.

One point what?

Check out this headline. We haven’t seen it much lately.

Lacy J. Banks says Scottie could bring the playoffs with him. Or at least videotapes of what the playoffs look like.

OK, the British open was yesterday, the Cubs and Sox both won, Scottie Pippen is coming back, Mark Prior is hurt and Mariotti puts down the doughnut to write about…LeBron? Moron.

Jack McKeon says the Cubs won’t make the playoffs. Uh, Jack, I wouldn’t really be making any bold statements about my Fish, either. OK?

Dick Vitale has no clue about George Karl, does he? Even Groucho knows that Karl is insane. Andrew Lawrence even has photographic evidence of it.

Mike Price can’t figure out why ‘Bama fired him. Uh…because the stripper you brought back to your room looked like this:

A British man is getting a settlement from the Catholic Church because JRR Tolkien’s son molested him when he was a teenager.

Apparently Gee Dub does a mean Dr. Evil impersonation.

Speaking of Dr. Evil…Mini Me is about to marry a 6’2 blonde yoga instructor. This will last. Sure.

A six-year-old Texas boy stole the babysitter’s car and drove 25 miles in an attempt to see his mommy. Since it was in Texas, he will be given the death penalty.

Just read the headline and enjoy it. I pray for it, too. Every night.

America’s finest news source with a letter from a man dissatisfied with his porn Web site subscription.