The current Bulls-Celtics first round playoff series has been equal parts fantastic and frustrating. I’ve only watched the second half of one game (the Bulls thrilling double-overtime win at Boston in Game 4), and listened to various quarters and overtimes of the other games, but through that limited experience, I’ve been able to glean one very important conclusion. One that almost makes me punch a wall. And its that I don’t hate Joakim Noah anymore. Well, not as a player.
As a diehard Buckeye, and a younger one at that, I can only remember a few pleasant memories of the Scarlet and Gray on the hardwood. One was Jimmy Jackson, lighting it up in the early 90s. Another was that magical, out-of-nowhere Final Four appearance in ’99, with Michael Redd splashing threes, Scoonie Penn dishing dimes, and Ken Johnson swatting shots. And then, of course, the special 2007 season, where the Bucks made it all the way to the NCAA Championship game. That year, Conley, Oden, and the gang lost to only two teams—a stacked North Carolina team, and to the defending champ Florida Gators, twice.
During that season, Florida became our archenemies. They were a team that had everything (swagger, a title, talent) and nothing (cockiness, faces you want to smack) that we wanted, and it didn’t hurt that they demolished our undefeated football team in the BCS title game that year. The poster boy of that team was Noah.
At the time, I regarded Noah as easily the most overhyped, ove player I had ever seen. He was a glorified energy player. A “future number one pick” who could only manage 13 points per game, in college, as a 7-footer. A stick figure with perm. A tall A.J.-Moye-like chest-beater. I absolutely hated this kid. Every time I saw him, I would grit my teeth.
When he finally declared for that draft, and my beloved Bulls got the ninth pick in the lottery, I had the uncanny feeling that Noah would end up in Chicago. I scoured all the mock drafts I could get a hold of, and they all confirmed my fears. Each one of them had the Bulls picking him.
I usually didn’t take the time to watch the NBA draft, but I knew I had to watch this one, if only ease my fears if the Bulls didn’t choose Noah. For each one of the first eight picks, I prayed that they would buy into the Noah hype and take him off the board. I absolutely did not want to have to root for this guy. Sure enough, Chicago picked Noah, and his goofy self, wearing a seersucker suit and bowtie, sported a Bulls hat while shaking David Stern’s hand that day. I almost vomited.
His first season as a Bull was a joke. Within the first month Noah got in a verbal battle with his coaches and the veterans on his team chose to suspend him. He was constantly pushed around and racked up unimpressive box scores, on the court. In the offseason he was arrested for drinking Hennessy in public, and his love for grass (not Kentucky Blue) became widely known.
This season he showed up out of shape and spent the first three months huffing and puffing down the court, grabbing his shorts during free throws, and just generally ticking off every Bulls fan, including me. It seemed that it was impossible for me to hate him more. I was right.
A funny thing happened around the middle of the season. He started to understand the game. He rebounded. Blocked some shots. Set great screens for Rose. He even dunked over some people. I started to love that swagger and sneer he had in college, the one I previously couldn’t stand. I even caught myself saying, “Yeah, Noah” a few times.
And then this series started and Noah came into his own. He’s beginning to do everything he was known for at Florida, and now I’m starting to see why he was so important to those back-to-back title-winning teams. In front of our eyes he’s turning from a skinny Wennington into a skinny Rodman.
That steal-dunk combo over Paul Pierce last night sealed it for me.
I’ve started to love that he is on my team, and not wishing he was on the other. Which is equal parts magnificent and maddening: it’s always fun to have a rival.
I guess I’ll just have to project my sports hatred on another guy with a bad haircut.
