by Derrick Rose
* * *
All the stuff with Jimmy was overshadowing everything to start the season, but I was excited, feeling really good. I was even making threes when the season started. I felt like I finally got my balance back. I feel like that 2018 summer I did everything right. I lifted but I didn’t lift too much. I did a lot of basketball workouts, more than the last three or four summers. Getting strong without overcompensating for my legs. I was missing my rhythm at hooping. I wasn’t playing as much. So that summer I reverted back to playing as much as possible. Every year, I look forward to the games, but this felt really good. Probably best I felt about basketball since my last year with the Bulls, maybe right before I got smashed in the eye.
I really did feel like, going into the 2018 season, I was going to be making some noise again. Dead serious, man. I was where I was, just looking for an opportunity to make one more grind. It’ll be the last grind and then I’ll be able to do whatever I want after this. So, I got to give it my all one more time and then walk away gracefully. I can see the end now, because I want it to be that way and not because it has to be that way. That’s what I was thinking in the summer before the season.
I want to play a few more years. It’s crazy to think I’m already at 10 years with everything that’s happened—way more than most guys get to play. I’ve been blessed. It feels right again. If the biggest problem in Minnesota is dealing with kids, I’m cool with that. That’s something that’s fixable: “Grow the fuck up.” Call them on their shit every time. No problem. I’ll take that over all the other bullshit. That’s what I’m trying to tell them. “The situation y’all are in right now? Cherish it. Because you can go somewhere and the shit can be all different, where you’re mad and the GM is on your ass—or maybe the owner. Just be grateful that you can handle this situation.”
Then there was the 50-point game. Halloween night. A lot of crazy things about that night, but I really did feel like it was meant to happen. Like, out of all the bullshit I went through, all the adversity I went through, it was my way of showing myself that I still have it. If I put it all together, it would be what that game looked like.
That 50 points was my “I’ll show you.” I knew I still had it in me. I always believed that, but I know hardly anyone did. Maybe my friends and family—and Thibs.
But it was the way that game went that I feel showed and meant the most to me. It was having a game like that—and winning. A lot of people overlooked that I had a blocked shot on Dante Exum at the end—up by three with three seconds left—to seal the game. That’s what I care about. Fifty is one thing, but if you lose, who cares? Thirty and lose, so what? But to have 50—and I also missed three free throws, so I could have had 50-something points—and seal it with two free throws with about 13 seconds left and then to get a block, that’s really why all the emotions came out afterward.
Remember, they were leading with just over a minute left. No matter how many points I’m scoring, if we don’t win that game, what does it matter?
With us being shorthanded and Thibs and the team relying on me, it meant so much. Not so much that it was like it used to be, but that I still could do it after everything I’d been through. I was emotional because of me always believing. I told people I’d come back and get a max again, not sayin’ it for the money, but for what it meant—a max means you’re there again.
I know it’s crazy that I’ve always had this belief in myself, that I didn’t care what anybody thought about me. Sure, I cared what was said sometimes because of how it affected the people who mean the most to me, which is something people don’t think about when things are written or said. But a few people know how much work I put into my craft, and those are my best friends, and that’s what’s important to me. We talk about it all the time, having a game like that. But then to actually go out and have the opportunity to do it and to get up 30 reps in a game? When was the last time I’d shot 30 times in a game?
You got certain guys who do that on a nightly basis now the way things are. Not to call out anyone, but the young boy from Utah shot 35 times in one game about the same time. Nothing unusual, though. Guys do that on a regular basis now. I’ve talked about that before. You don’t get the reps, you aren’t going to be doing the things you did before. Healthy or whatever. So then what happens if one game I get my reps up like that?
But the only reason I did that was we were down players. Jimmy didn’t play. Jeff Teague, Tyus Jones, all out. I’m never looking to do that. I’ve always been about my teammates unless I had to score. I felt I had to take on that load before the game. I wasn’t thinking 50, of course, but I felt I had to do some things I don’t usually try to do.
I know how hard I work and I know I’m talented. Sometimes people try to discourage you when they know you’re talented, to talk crap about you and hope you quit, give up. I remember playing dice games where you know someone’s got the hot hand on the dice and you talk shit to them because you know they’re good. Maybe they won’t finish it.
I’m not in Minnesota looking back after a game like that and laughing or holding any grudges or thinking, “I told you so,” like with the Knicks. I could have held a grudge the way it ended, but that was the old me, the young, dumb me. Thibs and the Minnesota team, they were allowing me to play the way I normally play, and the way that I’m playing today is way more controlled and efficient than how I played in the past.
So rather than hold a grudge, I look at my time in New York as a blessing in disguise. It allowed me to learn how to be the third option playing with Porzingis and Melo, figure out how to affect the game in my own way. I played in the triangle and I still got my average, 18 per game in the triangle being a third option. Doesn’t that say something? The old me, I would have been pissed off at the GM and feeling down about everybody there. But I learned something there. I learned how to float through a game and still affect it in my own way. That’s a big thing. It’s maturity and time, growing up, trying to figure out who I am as a man.
Yes, I know I’m very stubborn. I’m not going to lean on anyone to teach me something. I feel like I can figure everything out myself, and going through that process with the injuries, with New York and then Cleveland, made me more vulnerable in a way. To my family, I’m the breadwinner. I understand that. It’s like no one wants to see the guy who is making everything happen being down or looking and feeling vulnerable.
So, you always have to have on that exterior or put up that wall, like you have to be strong for everybody else. But when they saw I was opening up, when I showed what I showed, it’s when everything changed. Like my former teammate Kevin Love would say, “Live your truth, say what you have to say, and don’t be afraid.”
It’s a blessing to see, because I know what every player is going through. In a way, all of us in the league are stubborn and proud—you have to work to get to the league. From the outside, it’s all glamour, but inside it’s the grind. And we’re all people going through the same feelings. It don’t matter how much is in your bank account. It doesn’t mean you can’t feel a certain way.
Things are going to change for every player, just like you at your job. You may be hot now, but you also know when you get to a certain age or certain position, things change. There’s only a few LeBrons ever who can be hot when they enter the league and all the way to year 15 still hot the same way. You saw it with Melo, the way they were saying, “Your story is over, we don’t want to hear your story no more. We done with you. Hey, let’s see this next kid, Giannis, who everyone is talking about.” You knew then it would happen to him, too. Just living.
But with all of that, it doesn’t mean they stop talking about you, that your story is done. That’s really how I always felt. You decide your story, no matter what they say. I know what type of talent I have, and you say that and people think you’re lying to yourself or you’re crazy. But I did feel I just needed the opportunity, and I came to Minnesota and I’m part
of a franchise where the coach believed in me.
All these other places, they say they believe in you, and then you’re running the triangle offense. “Okay, you don’t believe in me. If you believed in me, you would have changed the offense. Cleveland, you say you believe in me and by the end of the year I am getting DNPs. Ty Lue, I like you, nothing against you, but you don’t know how good I am.”
Then I go to Minnesota with Thibs and, if anything, he’s watching my health from Day 1. I’m not doing too much and I think it’s because we’ve been around each other for a long time and we can talk to each other and we can communicate. That’s big for coaches. It’s something I read wrong with some of the other coaches, not having that communication me and Thibs have.
The funny part is a lot of people don’t understand our connection. They say, “He’s the one who got you injured!” What! Thibs wasn’t telling me what to think when I was out there. And not to sound crazy, but I believe in spiritual things. At that time I was too hot. I came out of nowhere, I was adding a lot of pressure to the league, and you never know what people wish on you. Not saying stuff happens because people want it to, but I do believe in karma, good and bad. And there are evil thoughts. I felt I wasn’t protected that much and now I really feel like I am protected.
There’s this communication I have with Thibs that’s different. Jeff’s hurt, so I’ll say to him, “Let Tyus start.”
He’ll say, “No, you’re starting!”
Okay, cool, but we will talk it out, say what we want and think. Then just play. I’m not trying to step on anybody’s toes because I know I’m in Minnesota to adhere to that veteran role, just be part of the team, chill, just no pressure.
You don’t realize it until you get older, but even as a kid it’s pressure when you come up like I did. I’ve been having pressure since I’ve been in fifth, sixth grade, playing in Chicago. Not just the big games like everyone has, but being compared, being the next one. Then you get to the league and it’s just more of it.
I remember so many nights I couldn’t sleep because I was worrying about the game. Not about who I’m playing, but just the game. I want to perform—they need me to perform. It really used to drive me crazy. I felt that pressure to perform and even though I knew I put in the work, you want to go out and get the results. I know it’s a game and everyone wants to play games, but who goes to work and it’s in front of all these people and everyone is telling you “Good game,” “You’re shit,” this and that?
Now, it’s none of that. Not that I don’t feel it’s as important, but now I just go out and see what the game needs. Not forcing shots, but gauging the game. Coming off the bench? No problem. That’s why I said before the 2018 season I could win Sixth Man of the Year.
Yeah, years ago I was saying MVP before the season and now I’m saying Sixth Man. But that is the right approach, I think. I have to put my pride to the side and understand at this stage of my career what’s important.
I could be this mad dude, mad I’m not starting. But then I think, “What if my son sees that and hears about that later on and he tries to use that as an excuse someday, act spoiled in the corporate world, just expecting to get what he wants because of who he is?”
No, you grind your way to a promotion, to the top. Don’t expect it, work for it. None of this was handed to me. I had to work to be the top pick. I’m chasing O.J. Mayo the whole time through high school and then get to be the first pick. Then I’m coming to the league and even with the Bulls I knew the debate was me or Michael Beasley. Michael was great at the time and if you want him, cool. I get it. So even with everything that happened, I always felt I had to prove myself. I felt I had to do that the whole time I was in the league, no matter what was happening. That’s why it came out the way it did, with me and the MVP: “Why can’t I win it?”
You know how it was then: “Get the fuck out of here.”
Look, you asked me the question. Why are you asking me the question if you don’t want my answer?
So even now, alright, y’all wrote me off. A lot were saying I should retire not knowing what I was going through, ex-players acting like they’ve never been in my shoes before. You know, “He’s done, he’ll average six or eight points. Get rid of him.” But the way I look at it is, I feel every great act reinvents themselves at some point, and that’s what I did.
It’s not just being a student of the game. I talked with Thibs about Tim Hardaway, the way he played in Golden State and then getting hurt, moved on, and coming back in Miami to be an All-Star and a leader. I look at the big acts, like a Frank Sinatra, the way he was on top as a pop singer and actor and then it’s over for him and then he comes back with the big bands and ballads and a different style. He started in one environment and switched all the way up. I look at a guy like Robert Downey Jr., a star actor and then he has drug problems and is even in prison and comes back to be one of the biggest stars ever. Come on, everything he went through? He could have given up and his story would have been over. But it’s how he took everything in and used it as part of his change. At some point you have to be vulnerable and understand and accept what’s happened and know who you are and what you can do and don’t let others write your ending.
Sometimes I even think that getting that championship I wanted so much in those early years might have made it all even crazier down the road. Maybe whoever is watching over me did all that for a reason, my injuries and all that, so I could see everything for what it is, see people for who they really are, who really is in my corner, who jumped off the boat when it was on fire.
Now I feel like we’re riding. I know my friends, my family, who has my back, and you can’t buy that or just ask for it. It takes hardship and tough times to get there—so much shit sometimes—and maybe a championship would have been too much for me at the time. You don’t know.
* * *
My story is bigger than me. They can’t control what’s going to happen. You don’t know what will happen with my story. I know it will be something good, though, by the way I’m giving, the way I’m treating people—my mom, my family, everyone—and how I have my principles in order.
I’m following my guidelines to my life, listening to my omens, reading my signs. Everyone has them in their lives, the things that matter to you. I always knew how hard I was working, no matter what was being said, and it came out on the floor in Minnesota, how I want to be and how I want to play. I got there by finding my comfort zone on the team and learning my role.
Yes, it was me who fucked up in the past with the decisions I made. No one else. I’m man enough to say that and know at the time I needed help. Look, in Cleveland I didn’t know I was going to be taken out of the air and wouldn’t be able to run for a month. It just happened. I left Cleveland—my choice, my decision.
But I don’t feel like this is the last chapter in my life. I feel like I have a lot more to add to society, and being the person I am and the heart I have, I feel I can do a lot more for my people. Because it’s knowing my past that got me here. So I can’t forget friends, fans, family, the past, loved ones telling me the truth, being mindful of that all the time. You keep fighting because you never know who’s looking.
The biggest thing for me still, though, even with all that, is winning.
It’s like at first I was trying to get my money, financially be good, like every player does. I was just being honest and so I said it. But especially now, after going through everything, it’s like I want to show people I can hoop and help the young guys along the way. I had a chance to see and experience the ups and downs. So why not share that?
Shit, I’m the MVP and then practically kicked out of the league. Basically getting cut and practicing at Cleveland State, trying to find a team. Oklahoma City was talking about picking me up that season when I was back at Cleveland State working out on my own. But then Thibs reached out and asked me to just wait, to take my time. I was re
ady. I was ready to show everyone again.
I feel it progressed in the right way. I feel like I can adapt. That was one of the reasons I want to continue to play. I want you to look up and not pay attention to what I’m doing and it will be 15 years in, and it’s like, “Damn, you’re still in!” I want that. I feel like I’ve still got a lot left. So right now I’m just looking for the opportunity. I feel once I get the opportunity, if I get any look at it, I’m taking advantage of it.
I don’t worry about being hurt. The last time I thought about being hurt was probably my second injury. After that, I didn’t think about it. It was tiresome. Just having faith, knowing this is out of my control. Only thing I can do is put myself in the position to succeed. I love all that right now, where my mind is at. I’m enjoying all that right now more than anything. When I was younger and so caught up in chasing or being great, trying to get these accolades, I wasn’t fucking enjoying it. Not like now.
Now I’m showing it.
Timeline
Derrick Martell Rose
October 4, 1988: Born, Chicago, IL
March 18, 2006: Leads Simeon to Illinois state high school basketball championship with winning shot against Peoria Richwoods in overtime
March 31, 2007: Selected Illinois Mr. Basketball
April 7, 2008: Leads Memphis to NCAA tournament championship game, loses to Kansas in overtime
June 26, 2008: Selected first overall in the NBA draft by the Chicago Bulls
October 28, 2008: Makes NBA debut for Bulls with 11 points and nine assists
April 18, 2009: Matches Kareem Abdul-Jabbar’s rookie playoff scoring record with 36 points to beat the defending champion Boston Celtics in Game 1
April 22, 2009: Named NBA Rookie of the Year
January 28, 2010: Named to the NBA’s Eastern Conference All-Stars, the first Bull to be selected since Michael Jordan in 1998