I never thought I’d lobby for this. I never thought I would advocate for such a change. I never thought I’d cave in. But as much as I hate to say it, Derrick Rose has to be more like Dwyane Wade.
It’s a shame, it can become laughable, but it appears Rose has no choice but to go full-metal Wade in acting like a baby on the court and complaining to officials about every play.
I’m talking every tough foul, every non-foul, and certainly every actual foul. Wah, wah, wah. As much a part of his game as screen-roll.
What’s more, even when fouls are called, I believe Wade’s whimpering ways dictate that you complain it should’ve been a flagrant, and if it actually is a flagrant, Wade demands the offender be put to death.
Bring me the head of Rip Hamilton.
It’s unseemly and embarrassing, even in a league where players act out, preen, parade, and rain down attitude. The whole crybaby act is pathetic. Wade looks like a diva the way he does it all the time.
But it appears to work, and after yet another swipe at the Bulls’ franchise Sunday night, it’s clear Rose needs something like that to work for him.
Rose has always played the strong, silent type. He could’ve whined on every play, however --- more plays than Wade actually because he handles the ball much more. In fact, Rose could’ve whined so much that the Bulls would’ve added Huggies as a sponsor.
And now it’s time to find out. The best players in the league add something important to their game every season, and this season, right now, Rose needs to add whining to the refs.
He will need lessons, as was evident in a collision with the Pistons. Rose went to the hoop, and there was Charlie Villanueva, whose career goal apparently is to add nothing as a member of every team in the Eastern Conference.
Anyway, Villaneuva got some of the ball, some of Rose’s arm, and a lot of Rose’s nose. He was slapped with a flagrant foul and then a technical foul.
Rose fired on Villanueva for the cheap shot. That might be satisfying to Rose, but it doesn’t buy you anything down the road, specifically the playoffs.
Wade spends the regular season mewling at officials as a way of training them to call it his way in the postseason. It’s a good plan. Once you’ve checked your self-respect at the door, it’s a great plan. The only way to go. Every great player has done it. It’s as if the NBA stages a superstar seminar to teach the proper technique. I imagine there’s an instructional DVD for throwing hissy-fits.
Some superstars take it to ridiculous levels. Wade is the NBA’s standard-bearer these days. Wade has a ring and another finals appearance. Follow the leader. Rose has a lot of talent, but Wade’s act shows you talent is not enough. When you’re a target, you need the Kevlar that is a referee’s whistle. Forget pride. Take the and-one.
Rose’s problem is he respects the game and respects the hard foul. Not the dirty play, not the cheap shots, not the excessive abuse, but the legitimate, physical basketball play. Rose drives hard, gets hit hard, and gets up quickly. The opponent gets zero satisfaction that the foul hurt pain. That’s a man’s game.
But when it comes to getting calls, this is no league for men. This is a nursery. Play hard, whine hard. The NBA rewards crying, so you better have your best player screaming as if his speakers went to 11.
Aftar a game earlier in the season, Rose referred to himself as a superstar in reference to not getting calls that superstars are supposed to get. He said it to the media. Nope. Wrong. Try again. Telling the media does as little good as yelling at Villanueva.
Say it to the officials. Everytime. All the time. Whine. Carp. Cry. Complain. Plead. Beg. Demand. It’s all right there in the “Idiots Guide to NBA Superstardom,’’ somewhere between “Bling’’ and “Decision, The.’’ When you’re in Miami on Thursday, Derrick, ask Wade for an autographed copy.