Bipolar Bulls have plenty of work to do

THE BAD BULLS

The personality of this squad is as schizophrenic as the oppositional masks of comedy and tragedy. Indeed, this latest loss puts the Bulls record at 8-10, which is just about where they belong.

Straight shooting

With the recent firings of Eddie Jordan, P.J. Carlesimo and Sam Mitchell, Pandora's Box is now officially open and there are sure to be more pink slips issued.

There are plenty of candidates, also plenty of coaches (like Scott Skiles and Jim O'Brien) who will get a temporary free pass because of injuries to key players — although that excuse didn't save Jordan.

Anyway, the coaches most likely to be canned are divided into four categories:

Afraid to answer their phones

Marc Iavaroni will probably be the first to go. His Grizzlies are clawless, and they do play with unbridled intensity, but despite their trades and their top-shelf draft choices their winning percentage is lower than it was last season.

Mike Dunleavy got a temporary reprieve when Elgin Baylor was sent packing, but his team is lifeless and somewhat disorganized. The Clippers' trio of bigs — Chris Kaman, Zach Randolph, and Marcus Camby — has no chance of meshing, and another major trade will only increase the overall confusion.

Even though Kevin Martin is down and out, the brothers Maloof have been disenchanted with Reggie Theus for quite some time — mainly because of his inability to fully relate to his players. Oblivion seems the most likely destination for both the Kings and Theus.

A short losing streak away from dismissal

Despite, or because of, the several votes of confidence that Kevin McHale has given to Randy Wittman, the Timberwolves' toothless performance to date can't continue much longer without changes being instituted. Wittman will get the rap for Kevin Love's not having an immediate impact, for Mike Miller shooting too many blanks, and for the team's lack of an authentic point guard.

A long losing streak away from dismissal

Elton Brand was supposed to guarantee that the Sixers would be challenging the likes of Boston, Cleveland, Detroit, and Orlando for supremacy in the East. For sure, integrating a big-time scorer like Brand takes time, but falling to the bottom of the Atlantic Division is a profound disappointment. Last year's late-season spurt is gone and forgotten, and Maurice Cheeks is only as good as the Sixers' latest winning streak — which currently is non-existent.

Guys who deserve to be fired but won't be

Don Nelson heads this section, even though he signed a long-term contract during the offseason. Suddenly, Nellie is talking about "rebuilding," which is something that neither the management, the players nor the Warriors fans particularly want to hear. Since the Warriors' version of small-ball is rapidly diminishing to the point of being microscopic, what really needs rebuilding is Nellie's ridiculous game plan. Which, of course, is a remote possibility.

How long will it be before Larry Brown insists that the Bobcats' entire roster be flipped? But even though the modern-day pro players are quick to turn off his chronic nagging and abdication of personal responsibility for the team's sad-sack record, Brown will survive because he's still a legend in Tar Heel country.

Vox populi

I recently read an article that posited that Michael Jordan didn't leave any legacy in the NBA. At best, the only legacy he left was "be the best salesman you can be." The argument was that aside from his persona and personal achievement, M.J. didn't change the game. Is this a fair assessment? — Melvin M, Liverpool

M.J.'s "legacy" was to demonstrate that an African-American sports hero can sell product to a mostly white audience. Which, on its own merits was incredibly significant — just ask the companies that make sneakers, underwear, etc.

Otherwise, all of this "legacy" business is just a meaningless topic that the media can beat to death. How is a current player supposed to change the game? Has Yao Ming changed it? Or Kobe?

Jordan won six rings. Period.

Any discussion of any other lasting on-court influence is totally irrelevant.

Travels with Charley

After road games, I'd often hang out with some of my favorite players in their hotel rooms, eating pizza and drinking beer. Bo Dukes, Tico Brown, Fred Cofield, and Pace Manion were always good company. Sometimes, if there was some kind of connection between one of my guys and a hometown player, we'd gladly share our repast.

In truth, I forget the city, the season, the team I was coaching, and the players involved, but after one particular game (in Santa Barbara? Rapid City?), Leon Wood paid us a post-game visit. Leon still had the NBA glow about him, but he was a down-to-earth guy.

Usually we talked about where this or that player was, or the latest crazy antics of so-and-so, but the conversations always came around to referees.

Which refs were worse?

The ones who split games between the CBA and the NBA? After working in Boston or New York or Chicago two days ago, and now having to work in La Crosse, or Topeka — no wonder these guys reffed with a chip on their shoulders. Any muttered reproach or brow furrowed in complaint was enough for these guys to start handing out technical fouls.

Or were the full-time CBA refs worse? The guys who had to prove how tough they were and who worked with a palpable belligerence.

In any event, all of us were unanimous in disparaging game officials of every type. They were bullies. Cops with whistles instead of guns. Every one showed some kind of bias — to the home team, or to any player or coach who had NBA experience.

"Yeah," said Wood. "Refs are not my favorite people."

Fast forward to the present ... but you all know the punch line by now.

That's right, once his playing career was kaput, Leon Wood had a change of heart. These days, he's a full-fledged NBA tooter.

I'm not sure about this either, but I believe there's something in the CBA by-laws stating that any player who becomes a ref is automatically guilty of treason.