Bernucca: For Derrick Rose, Image Becoming a Thorny Issue

If Derrick Rose wants to sit out games because he doesn’t feel 100 percent healthy, that’s fine.

If Rose wants to go to the coaching staff, training staff and management of the Chicago Bulls and develop some sort of maintenance program which allows him to sit out games from time to time, that’s fine, too.

In fact, given what the San Antonio Spurs and Miami Heat have done with their aging stars over the last several seasons – and the success that they have had with it – it would be irresponsible for the Bulls not to at least consider a similar plan with Rose.

But if Rose wants to blow off reporters after games in which he actually plays and continue his tone-deaf stance when he does actually speak to the media, that’s not fine.

There’s no denying that when he is 100 percent, Rose is a scintillating, one-in-a-billion talent. His strength, quickness, ability to change direction, ballhandling and shot-making are virtually unique in the history of the game.

And there’s no denying that Rose is a superstar in the crosshairs of the public eye. He has been a Rookie of the Year, an All-Star, an MVP and a gold medalist. He has a maximum NBA salary and a huge contract with adidas that builds advertising campaigns around him, offering exposure. And he has become the face of a storied franchise that is considered a title contender and has the added bonus of playing in his home town.

But there’s also no denying that Rose is an adult and should know better. He is 26 and in his seventh year in the league. Given the amount of time he spends in the public eye and the adversity he has faced over the last two-plus years, he should be far more self-aware of his superstar status.

And if he isn’t self-aware, there are plenty of people around him who can help. The NBA and the Bulls both employ folks who are skilled in helping players present the proper image and message to the media. The same can be said for adidas, whose quarterly earnings rely on that image and message. And like most players, Rose has family and friends around him as well, acting as trusted advisors when needed.

Since winning the MVP in 2011, Rose has played in just 54 of a possible 240 games due to injuries. There was a series of nagging ailments in 2012, perhaps exacerbated by the compressed schedule following the lockout. There was the torn ACL in the 2012 postseason opener that cost him all of the following season. There was the torn meniscus just over a year ago that cost him most of last season. There have been ankle sprains and a hamstring issue this season.

Rose would be a fool if this all of this misfortune didn’t force him to inwardly question his basketball mortality. The fact that his game is primarily predicated on explosion makes the frequency of his lower-body injuries doubly alarming. When he comes up limping after taking a tumble on a drive to the hoop – as he did in Thursday’s win at Toronto – he should be thinking, “Oh, no. Now what?”

But Rose should also know that his legion of fans are thinking the same thing. They are right there with him. They shudder and fear the worst just like he does. There is concern and love and support and commitment, much of it built by Rose’s past performances on the court and persona off it. They want him to make it all the way back to his MVP level. What NBA fan doesn’t?

So when Rose returned Monday after missing a handful of games with sprained ankles and plays his best game of the season, everyone – media, fans, pundits, haters – wanted to know how he felt. Are the ankles OK? How about the knees? Were you holding back at all? Do you think 32 minutes are too much? These are all legitimate questions that a player with Rose’s superstar status and injury history was obligated to answer.

And Rose ducked out of the locker room before the media even entered.

So Rose blew off the media. Big deal. Nobody likes the media. Most fans profess to hate the media, even though a good portion of their knowledge of the game is tied to media access. And besides, Rose spoke to the media the next day at practice. And here’s what he said:

“I know a lot of people get mad when they see me sit out or whatever, but I think a lot of people don’t understand that when I sit out it’s not because of this year. I’m thinking about long term. I’m thinking about after I’m done with basketball. Having graduations to go to, having meetings to go to, I don’t want to be in my meetings all sore or be at my son’s graduation all sore just because of something I did in the past. Just learning and being smart.”

If Rose was really being smart, he would have found a better way to express his feelings. Fair or not, the simplistic interpretation of his remarks in some circles was that despite being a max player, he was reluctant to give max effort. And fans who don’t have jobs as enjoyable or lucrative as playing professional basketball – even those blinded by brilliance – usually don’t react very positively when they learn that a player whose extraordinary salary they are paying isn’t giving his all.

That is hardly the case with Rose, who because he is a beloved superstar was given a chance by the media to walk back his comments a bit and clarify what he meant. Given that chance by TNT’s Rachel Nichols, here’s what he said:

“I’m just trying to plan things out and people took that out of turn or took it out of context. Is it what it is. I was being myself. That’s all I can be. So I could care less.”

I could care less.

Maybe the media should care less and ignore Rose after games. Maybe teenagers should care less and not buy his sneakers. Maybe Bulls fans should care less and stop going to the United Center. Maybe NBA fans should care less the next time Rose comes up hobbling.

Rose needs to immediately begin another rehabilitation program, not for his knees or his ankles or his hamstring, but for his image. He needs to begin strenuous workouts that fully develop the thoughts in the back of his mind before they reach the tip of his tongue. Lumosity, anyone?

Phrases like “I could care less” usually have inordinate staying power. They can be overcome with a charismatic nature or a sense of humor or an infectious smile or – if all else fails – a slew of championships. Rose has none of those.

All Rose has between himself and his basketball mortality is fans rooting for him. And the last thing he should be doing is alienating them.

TRIVIA: Which active coach has lost Game 7 five times? Answer below.