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Baffoe: The Try-Hard Bulls 2.0

By Tim Baffoe-

(CBS) It was 362 days ago that I tweeted the following:

That was during a 95-88 victory over the Miami Heat, one in which the Chicago Bulls came back from being down 12 points in the fourth quarter to force overtime en route to the win. They were Derrick Rose-less. Taj Gibson was hampered by the flu. Jimmy Butler played a few seconds shy of 48 minutes. Joakim Noah's lower extremities were a ponytail rubber band away from detaching. Carlos Boozer was a -7 that day (cue up the sky point). D.J. Augustin came to the rescue off the bench and dropped a team-high 22 points.

The Bulls were the try-hardiest bunch of try-hards that Sunday afternoon and won with a combination of grit and luck. (LeBron James, still with the Heat then, was really off that game.) Ugly, undermanned and full of duct tape, Robitussin and nightmares of Tom Thibodeau laughing, the Bulls won a game they shouldn't have against a better team by not mailing it in and not accepting some presumed fate — both in the immediate and larger picture. You had to love them like you would a three-legged dog.

"Rah-rah is good, but it's more the effort plays that matter," Thibodeau said after that game. "I thought our guys showed a lot of toughness. Our guys have the will to continue to fight.''

We saw the remix of that punch-drunk fighting team Thursday night, and it's safe to assume we'll see various reincarnations of the 2013-'14 Try-Hard Bulls this spring as well. On Thursday against the Oklahoma City Thunder, it was again a situation sans Rose, but this time compounded by the absence of Butler and Gibson as well. Noah's legs were still bad to the tune of just four points, but he contributed with 12 rebounds and nine assists.

Despite Mike Dunleavy embarrassing white basketball forever…

 

… he was one of three Bulls to score more than 20 points. (And he said of that play, "I was just trying to reset the shot clock"). And this time around, it was again the bench that saved the day, oddly enough against a Thunder team with Augustin coming off its bench.

Nikola Mirotic led the Bulls in scoring with 26 points, but the story was E'Twaun Moore, who shot 9-of-10 from the field for a career-high 19 points, including the game-winner in the game's final seconds.

 

Yeah, Russell Westbrook scored 43 points, but he shot only 2-of-12 from the field and committed four turnovers with Moore on him. Logic would dictate that Moore's performance would drive a nail or two into Thibodeau' love of Kirk Hinrich, who just isn't good at basketball anymore, but since when has a depleted Bulls team been logical?

Logic says to pump the brakes. Slow down. Logic dictates that this year's Bulls, like last year's Bulls, aren't winning a title. Pushing yourself past your body's limits and getting career performances from unlikely sources is the antithesis of logic.

But that's what we get again in March and April with the Bulls. And without Butler this go-round and with a further deteriorating Noah and with probably some other bad luck that the Chicago Sports Reaper swings his sickle at between now and the playoffs, it'll have to be even try-hardier.

Expect a few insane Super Water Bug games from the inconsistent Aaron Brooks, because the Bulls annually have an inconsistent little giant killer. There will probably be at least one more "Moore Game." Mirotic will be unconscious in his shooting sometimes, Pau Gasol will steadily put up big offensive numbers to make up for looking bad on defense, and maybe… just maybe… some odd manifestation of Murphy's Law will give us a commanding performance by Doug McDermott.

The Bulls will also forget themselves and fall flat on their faces from time to time, as a three-legged dog is wont to do. But they'll be admirable in their effort along the way, and they'll give us the repetitive question about once a week of, "How the hell are they winning this game?"

Which, if you remember all the times you were shaking your head with an exasperated smile a year ago, was pretty fun in retrospect. Even if it prefaced a giant fart in the postseason. And maybe it'll be exactly the same come these playoffs. Three legs ain't winning any dog show ribbons.

Doesn't mean you can't appreciate the hell out of them and enjoy their company, though.

Follow Tim Baffoe on Twitter @TimBaffoe.

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