Forte Oz. to Freedom

The puzzle is finally complete. Sure, the picture on the cover (before the season starts) always alludes to the process of assembling an infinite amount of cardboard pieces in order being a splendid time; a picturesque landscape, a Frank Lloyd Wright mansion, or one of those transcendent, 3-D embodiments of American monuments that were far beyond my intelligence level.

Still, Forte has been signed and optimisim and excitement for the upcoming Chicago Bears season is at an all-time high. In the offseason, they have acquired arguably one of the most promising young wideouts in the game, Alshon Jeffery, while dually signing a proven veteran with a unique rapport with our signalcaller, Brandon Marshall. Whether these two miscreants can keep themselves on Sportscenter's top 10 rather than America's Most Wanted remains to be seen, but hey, who doesn't deserve a second chance (or in Marshall's case, an 8th chance)? What makes me weary, though, is Brandon Marshall being diagnosed with a BPD (borderline personality disorder) last year. I'm not entirely sure what a "borderline disorder" entails; should I consider myself a "borderline internet journalist"?; is Ja Rule a borderline actor?; are the Bears borderline contenders for the NFC North crown in 2012?

Last year, the Bears were one thumb away from a playoff birth, and when Jay Cutler severred that god-forsaken tendon in his thumb, the Bears season went up in smoke quicker than Andre Rison's mansion set aflame by Left Eye (R.I.P., No Scrubs). Dissimilarly, the Bears have mortgaged their home and bought the insurance this year as they have added competent backups at the two most influential offensive positions (QB: Jason Campbell, RB: Michael Bush).

That said, there is no way they can compete in the NFC North with Campbell and Bush leading the Monsters of the Midway. The Bears needed to pony-up and sign their tireless, multi-talented, workhorse halfback, and to their credit, they did. Forte just wanted a check with a couple extra commas after finishing in the top-10 in yards from scrimmage in 2011 (10th in total, 2nd in YFS per game). The Bears tried to scare him by signing Bush, and Forte flinched as much as Teddy KGB at the head table in Rounders>. As the pressure increased and crunch time neared, the Bears signed #22 to a 4 year, 32-million dollar deal.

After reading Bears beat reporter, Brad Biggs', contract breakdown, which I must admit was very hard for me to comprehend, it seems that both sides gave a little, took a little, and left the table with a deal that rendered both parties satisfied.

As much as drafting Jeffery and the signings of Marshall and Forte mean for GSH's tribe, the Bears will need offensive tackle Gabe Carimi to have a healthy season on the right side for the Bears' offensive attack to be as efficacious as us fans would hope. Carimi, the former Wisconsin Badgers All-American is an athletic, nimbly-footed tackle who will without a doubt be a useful constituent in Forte getting out in the flat and doing what he does best. If you get hurt in your rookie year and return to prowess, it is amazing how people forget about your former ailment (see: Blake Griffin); but, if your injuries linger into your sophomore campaign, you'll be labeled as "susceptible to injury" faster than you can schedule a PT session at the Bears' residence in Lake Forest (see: Greg Oden).

As for Pick of the Day, the Pulse Man is enduring some setbacks in his return as the Pirates and Rockies only combined for 9 runs last night in the Mile High City. Tonight, he looks for the Twins to take care of the Orioles tonight at (-108).

Pick of the Day: Orioles @ Twins- TWINS (-108)

Record:(64-55-0)

Now I'm done. Rack me.

Frost

Dumping Demp

Aside from producing some of the worst noise to ever ruminate through the radiowaves in the form of Sum 41, Avril Lavigne, and Nickelback, Canada has no major problems. No major World Wars or political strife, a relatively stable economy, the homeland rights to perhaps the most desirable man and woman on the planet, Emanuelle Chriqui and Ryan Gosling, and an affinity for all things denim. Sounds like Heaven on Earth. Here on the North Side, the Cubs are looking to rid themselves of the lone Canuck on their roster who has been a lone beacon amidst a blanket of atrocity for the Cubs this season, RHP Ryan Dempster.

This year, Dempster has gone 5-3 with a 1.86 ERA, a 1.022 WHIP and an average of 3 strikeouts per walk allowed. As his hairline continues to recede, he has grown increasingly capable for the Cubs and has provided them with an anchor on their pitching staff that keeps them in a ballgame every 5th day. On Saturday against the Diamondbacks, Dempster earned his career-best 5th straight W and continued his scoreless inning streak to 33 dating all the way back to May 30th.

With the Cubs nesting as definite sellers at the trade deadline, it is only smart that they are looking to shop Dempster, Garza, and Soriano--if anyone is dumb enough to take on his mega-deal--but Dempster will certainly be missed the most by the franchise and Cub fans alike. What makes the 6'2'', 215 lb., 14-year vet so unique is his consistency. As arguably the most reliable sacrifice bunting pitcher in the NL, Dempster has also pitched 200+ innings and reached the double-digit win plateau in each of the last 4 seasons.

The Cubs are most likely shopping for prospects in moving Demp and will ceratinly miss his laid-back attitude in grooming some of their younger talent. He was a guy who was never afraid to embrace the city. In fact, he lives on Waveland and Wayne Ave., just 4 blocks from Wrigley and was seemingly the type of guy you would see running the lakefront or blasting the latest Raconteurs CD at a local Clark St. watering hole until he had enough microbrews to forget how to grip a 2-seamer. He was awarded by the Sporting News Magazine as one of the "99 Good Guys in Professional Sports" becasue of his genuine nature coupled with his philanthropy. His optimism and positivity in such futile times will be missed perhaps even more than his bizarrely unique windup.

In all likelihood, he will be moved to an AL contender like New York, Detroit, or even across town to the Sox, but it is clear that in enjoying the best season in a career that can be marked by its longevity, Demp will be off the market quicker than a 2-bedroom in Boystown.

If the Cubs are able to move Dempster to the Motor City, they could potentially land Nick Castellanos, the Tigers top offensive prospect at the ripe age of 20 who could be a long-term solution at the hot corner for the Cubs.

Another possible destination, of course, is the Yankees. If NYC proves to be the new home for Ryan, the Cubs will most likely garner pitching prospects in return and will watch Demp pitch well into October as they vacation in the Florida Keys.

In the words of the Gin Blossoms, "anywhere you go, we'll follow you down" (note the Franklin batting gloves worn by the drummer). Thanks for a great tour of duty on the North Side and only the best in the future. If only the Blue Jays were relevant they could make a play on their homeland hero.

As for Pick of the Day, the Pulse Man likes the OVER in the Pirates/Rockies game at Coors Field tonight set at 10.5.

Pick of the Day: Pirates @ Rockies- Combined Runs 10.5- OVER

Record: (64-54-0)

Now I'm done. Rack me.

Frost

Dream Scheme

Just when we thought Kobe had it figured out. He had learned to deflect every Jordan comparison and simulatneously revelled in LeBron's villainous reputation. Sprite had finally been suppressed as Sierra Mist monopolized the "uncola" market, and people had over time began to comparmentalize the phrase "rapist" behind "one of the best ever" in their own hippocampus. That may have been unfair. What happened in Colorado Springs that fateful summer in 2003 is all a bit hazy--to us, to Kobe, to the 19-year-old accuser--all seemingly because Rachel Nichols covered the story and nobody could stand to watch the coverage.

I'm sure pro athletes get asked a lot of questions by media outlets, and of course, some are more menaingful and relevant than the rest. Still, part of these athletes' jobs is to not make themselves sound like Michael Kidd-Gilchrist on Draft Night (fast-forward to 2:30); that's why they hire publicists, right? Apparently, Kobe, a seasoned veteran of the professional sports world in his own right, had either forgotten about the far-reaching effect of each soundbite he produces or had done a copious amount of LSD before he said: "I think our Dream Team could beat the Dream Team," which prompted swift responses from Jordan and Larry, who were considerably offended by Kobe's call out. Calling out Jordan is like taking a girl out on a first date to get chicken wings: it's a death wish that ends up slopppily with no success.

Kobe's comments couldn't have come at a worse time. In the wake of NBATV's spectacular documentary narrated by none other than Eddie Burns, formerly of The Brothers McMullen, the Dream Team proved to be one of the most dominant teams ever put together...in anything. Yes, more so than a 20-year old Danny Almonte throwing darts passed 5th graders; more so than Wilt "The Stilt" dropping a cool triple digits on his oppnonent and then proceeding to sleep with the same infinite amount of women after the game. The Dream Team had 11 Hall of Famers and a cast member from Six Feet Under (Christian Laettner). They won their contests by an average of nearly 44 points a game, and it didn't matter who started. Jordan was the only player to start every game for the gold medalist squad of the 1992 Barcelona Games. Imagine: Magic, Stockton, Barkley, Pippen, Ewing, Malone, Bird, The Admiral, Clyde, and Mullin. As the then Cuban coach so aptly put it after a 79-point loss to the Red, White and Blue, "You can't cover the sun with your finger."

Kobe's rationale in speaking his mind was that he thought the Dream Team was "old", and at the tail end of their careers. In reality, after watching last night's Olympic tune-up against the Dominican Republic, I would rather have any of the 12 Dream Teamers today--including Christian Laettner, Jordan in an atrocious outfit, Magic with a deadly African-borne virus, Patrick Ewing out of a Snickers commercial, or Scottie off the cast of Basketball Wives--over James Harden throwing up airbanks like a high-school sophomore trying to earn his keep in a Saturday morning JV game. The current Olympic team went 13-33 from behind the 3 point line. The most telling, and subsequently most pathetic part about that stat is that they shot 33 3-pointers against a smaller, weaker, Division-2 caliber Dominican Republic squad.

That's all I had to see of this year's team to side with Jordan over Kobe in this squabble, but let's run through some matchups just to see how lopsided this competition would be.

Matchups-

The Easy Ones

Magic/Lebron- both oversized ball-handlers who make the NBA floor look like a 7 foot Brunswick pool table. In a perfect world, we would get to see such a great matchup.

Jordan/Kobe (or Carmelo)- As good as Jordan was, Kobe is pretty good in international competition himself. They have similar playing styles and I feel like some great trash talk would ensue here between 2 of the 5 best players ever.

Pippen/Durant (or Carmelo)- I feel Pip would start here simply to guard Durant. Durant is, of course, a surplus shooter and would get his points, but Pip would make him work to get over half-corut without the ball. This, in my opinion, would be the most exciting matchup to watch. The still-developing scoring wonderkin vs. arguably the longest, most athletic, ugliest player of an NBA generation.

Where Things Get Dicey

If the '12 Olympians start Chris Paul, would the Dream Team start Stockton? If so, I really don't see a problem there. Again, Hall of Famer who is the NBA all-time leader in assists and steals. I'll take my chances.

What will the '12 Olympians do with 40 minutes (Olympic regulation length) of Barkley and Malone, two of the strongest, most brute forces in NBA history? Kevin Love? As Jerry would say when George wants to be his latex salesman, "I don't think so."

As if Barkley and Malone weren't already too much in the post, throw in the Admiral and Patrick Chewing--two 7-foot shotblockers who also had great success finishing around the rim. As good as Anthony Davis will be in a half-decade, not even Ramon Rivas' unibrow can save you here, young grasshopper.

Bench

I already mentioned Harden's ineptitude. The fact that he's being mentioned in the same breath as the talent on either roster perplexes me. Same goes for Andre Igulodoga. He hasn't even made an NBA All-Star Team yet. He did recieve votes for the 2010-2011 All NBA Defensive Team, though.

Wait, the Dream Team has a combined 17 NBA Defensive Player of the Year Awards. Boom, roasted.

The fact of the matter is that this game will never happen unless we're cloning NBA Hall of Famers like Dolly the Sheep circa 2020. Still, as 50 Cent says, "You shouldn't throw stones if you live in a glass house," and one thing I would never want to do is rattle the cage of these animals. You'll never make it out alive.

As for Pick of the Day, the Pulse Man likes the Rays over the Red Sox at home in the juicebox at (-101). Stay tuned for a special Monday blog as Ryan "Little League" Lindo (@RyanCLindo) venture to Wrigley to watch the Cubs' dispicable roster take on the Arizona Diamondbacks with 2 players to be named later. Should be an interesting journal.

Pick of the Day: Red Sox @ Rays (-101)- RAYS

Record: (64-53-0)

Now I'm done. Rack me.

Frost

Return of The Mac

Just when you thought Demetri McCamey would fade into irrelevance like the New Radicals and Arsenio Hall, he has again proven hard to shake (no pun intended to his defensive prowess). The former All-Big 10 point guard for the University of Illinois has recently signed a summer league contract with his hometown team, the Chicago Bulls.

Now, a summer league contract is about as guaranteed double-down blackjack at Rivers. But, it is an opportunity, and that is exactly what McCamey deserves. After signing an overseas contract due to the lockout's restrictions on undrafted rookies, McCamey put up stellar numbers in a league that nobody wihtout a pencil-mustache and an affinity for kebabs cares about. Nonethelss, it seems that Meechi--as he is affectionately referred to--has moved on from Mersin Büyükşehir Belediyesi S.K. (God bless the copy/paste feature) of the Turkish basketball league, where he shared the spotlight with other former recognizable American names such as Illinois' own former prodigal son of their dream season in 2005, Dee Brown.

What is intriguing, and quite honestly, beneficial for McCamey is his ability to fit into the NBA protype point guard. Of course, smaller guards like Chris Paul, Steve Nash, Brandon Jennings, and Tony Parker break that mold with their quickness and ability to permeate through perimeter traps and around erosion-footed bigs like the Lopez brothers. That said, McCamey is listed at 6'3'', 200 lbs--a size comparable to guards like Eric Gordon, Deron Williams, and everyone's favorite Uncle Drew, Kyrie Irving.

Mac will most likely be backing up Marquis Teague at the point and will also be spelling Jimmy Butler in the backcourt for the Summer League squad. What bodes well for the former St. Joe's Charger is his willingness to improve. While in Champaign-Urbana, McCamey flourished in an offensive system set forth by Bruce Weber that was conceivably drawn up on a napkin at a local Chili's. In his early years in the Orange and Blue, his frustration with both his teammates and the system was noticeable on his face and through his play; he was turnover-prone and at times took ill-advised shots trying to keep the Chief in games that were slipping faster than Sanka Coffee on his first taste of ice in Cool Runnings.

With the luxury of playing experience as an underclassman, McCamey flourished in his Junior and Senior seasons. When it was clear that Weber was living on a different planet than the 5 he had set forth on the floor, McCamey corralled the group with a pastoral grace and proceeded to lead the Big 10 in assists at 7 dimes a tilt, shattering Deron Williams' record set in 2005 (with a far superior supporting cast) and falling just 20 helpers shy of Matteen Cleaves' Big 10 record set, again, with a Final 4 caliber bunch.

You can only help but pull for the Bellwood native as he ventures into the wide world of underwatched, untelevised basketball. In speaking on behalf of Illini alums, the Orange Krush, and a slew of Asian students who occupy the Grainger Engineering Library on the campus of U of I, let's hope D-Mac joins Gene Pingatore, Isiah Thomas, Evan Turner, and the Hoop Dreams boys as St. Joe's living legacies.

As for Pick of the Day, The Pulse Man is still on hiatus with the MLB returning to regular play tomorrow afternoon.

Now I'm done. Rack me.

Frost

Date of the Union

Today, not neccessarily July 11th, but rather the day after the MLB All-Star game is unique to any other day on the 12 month calendar in the sports world. You can almost hear Jim Nantz in his Master's voice articulating, "...a tradition unlike any other" as the camera scrolls across Augusta National to the tune of a light, harmonic piano. It's exclusivity from the rest of the calendar originates because it marks the only day each year in which no professional sports are taking place. Across America, you'll see strange things--grown men watching two-hour, "The Guys Tell All" reunion specials of The Bachelorette, sushi restaurants filled to capacity, and the ticket line for Magic Mike winding out the corner of the theater.

With no professional sports on the horizon for 24 hours, it seemingly marks the perfect day to address the state of all of Chicago's beloved sports teams. In typical Chicago Sports Noise fashion, I have decided to do so in a less than normal, but hardly original way. Thus, we will take a look at all things Chicago through the lens of a male in a budding relationship with a female. Seeing how as I have little to no experience in this field and haven't been a part of a functional relationship in some time, these comparisons may be muddled, irrelevant, confusing, but should serve as nonetheless entertaining. In a roundabout sort of way, this is an implicit attempt to remove myself from any remnant of a female following that once existed. For all intensive purposes, let's refer to the male in the case of the following situations as "Chico".

Chicago Bulls- Chico finds himself with his longtime girlfriend on the physical intimacy shelf (I came up with that term myself) with mononucleosis. Their past has been spectacular; Chico's girlfriend, in this case, Rosaline, can bring home the bacon and fry it in the pan. She cleans up nice, but can still cut it in the sweats and also lets Chico have the freedom to roll with the fellas every now and then. There's no way Chico is leaving Rosaline, but what the hell is he going to do for the next few months while she's on the PUP (physically unable to perform) list? If he tries to bring her out too early her spleen is susceptible to a rupture, but if he tastes too much of the outside world, he just might lose The One. If Chico were a smart man, he might have to indulge himself in a few girls nights. Not reruns of 27 Dresses on CW, but rather things like casual dinner dates with her friends, afternoon matinees, walks, things like that. Nurture the relationship, Chico. Before you know it, she'll be back to full-operation.

Chicago Blackhawks- Chico finds himself in a tough spot here. He's not where he used to be with the females (first round playoff loss)--a bit of a cold streak if you will. Years back he was can't miss. Hitting on girls in bars, ATM vestibules, El Stops. The guy was a real-life Jerry Seinfeld. Now, he finds himself readily single, but with a risque option on the table. Chico's rival from across town in high school recently split up with his girlfriend (Goalie Roberto Luongo), and she is canoodling around town like she's in a bad episode of Bad Girls Club. Chico knows he could close this, but what expense will this leave him with? He knows the chick is expensive and doesn't know if his billfold can handle the late nights click-clacking through the ritz of River North in her high-fashion pumps (Luongo will need a big deal to sign with the Hawks). If he gets her, sure it'll be great for a night, a weekend, or perhaps a month, and it will eat at his rival like when Costner closes Rene Russo over Don Johnson at the close of Tin Cup, but is the juice worth the squeeze? Metaphorically, of course.

Chicago White Sox- Make or break territory, Chico. Tough sledding. Chico's on date #3 with Whitney, a girl who he out-kicked his coverage to land in the first place, but he admits he has been on point in rounds 1 and 2 (first half of the season). Free-flowing convo, picking up tabs, playful, flirty humor--he's been an all-star. But, that conversational wall is lurking on the horizon and nobody can ever tell how far it is ahead of Chico's line of sight. Sure, he's got confidence, but will it last? What will he do in heeding the unforgivable awkward silence? From personal experience, this is exactly where the fold occurs. Can Chico make it, or will Whitney's ex (the Tigers) and his starch-washed Oxford shirts from J. Crew prove to be too much to handle. Only time will tell, Chico. You always miss 100% of the shots you don't take.

Chicago Cubs- This is all a trust game, Chico (Cubs with Epstein). Let her go on that vacation to the Virgin Islands. She's either going to cheat on you (another slew of horrible contracts for the Cubs and he moves back to Boston), or your patience with her will become fruitful in the long run. You invested in her and now you're pot-committed. I know it's hard to hang out with all these losers currently (the Cubs' atrocious lineup). Just wait and see what the fruits of your labor look like in a few years.

Chicago Bears- You got a hot babe, Chico. But, the fact of the matter is, your best friend's is hotter (Green Bay Packers). You tried to go slumming a little bit and prove that you guys are bigger party animals (pick up convicts like Brandon Marshall and Alshon Jeffrey), but your best friend's girl (insert Rick Springfield joke here) has been bringing the heat for years now. Also, your girl needs to get in the gym and tighten up that body (sign Forte NOW), or you're going to get passed up like you're standing still. All you can do is hope their relationship hits some rough patches and gets stale while you two look for the nearest karaoke bar to cover "I Got You, Babe" like Sonny and Cher.

Illinois Basketball/Illinois Football- In both cases, Chico is embarking on blind dates (new coaches). Although the show on UPN Power 50 would suggest otherwise, these hardly work out. Plus, the way these potential dates were described to you by the matchmaker were less than ideal (two Simpleton coaches from mid-majors in Ohio). Maybe you can catch a flash in the pan and find the spark, but it's a rainy night and you have a book of matches with about 3 to spare. Good luck.

As for Pick of the Day, the Pulse Man took the favorite and was bit last by the NL staff that conglomerated for a shutout of a vicious AL All-Star lineup. Since there are no games today, he has the day off. He deserves it.

Now I'm done. Rack Me.

Frost

Fun in the Dunn

One Year--365 days, a handful of full-moons, one day in which you receive an abundance of Facebook congratulations from people whom you no longer associate with, and a world of difference. Think about it, a year ago today we had previously thought that John Travolta only couldn't keep his hands to himself around Olivia Newton John, Cee-Lo Green was Gnarls Barkley, and for all we knew, YOLO was the Yugoslavian-Ottoman Liberty Organization from the Cold War Era.

Things change. Similarly, the expectations for this year's Chicago White Sox were much lower for this year's campaign than they were the year before, and with good reason. Adam Dunn was coming off his worst year as a professional, Alex Rios was barely functional--at bat or in the field--and the Sox consequently hit .252 as a team. This year, however, Sox fans were leery of the Tigers who went out and signed Prince Fielder to add to an already dangerous lineup and a pitching staff that has perhaps the single most dominant pitcher in baseball, Justin Verlander. Not to mention, after a year that featured more Spanish obscenities than a back kitchen at Rosati's pizza, the Sox finally let go of Ozzie Guillen, who then proceeded to demonstrate his unyielding support for one of the most brash and irrational creatures in the modern world. Makes sense.

Instead, they hired Robin Ventura, who can be seen as responsible for the lower expectations for the Men in Black headed into 2012. He was a first-time manager with no in-game experience, but Kenny and Jerry trusted that Rockin' Robin knew baseball; specifically, how it is meant to be played on 35th and Shields.

The Sox impressive first half and consequent division lead has been catalyzed by a variety of hosts--youthful energy from utility men (De Aza and Viciedo), a remarkable young left-hander (Sale), a stellar resurgence from a veteran who was seemingly out of his prime (Peavy), and a couple of household-named mainstays returning to the form they once had in the limelight of their careers (Konerko and Pierzynski). Although all of the contributions of the aforementioned players have been profoundly important in garnering the frist-half AL Central division crown, none of them have been as impressive as what I like to refer to as "The Renaissance of the Donkey". No, it is not a facet of the Chinese Zodiac Calendar, but rather the reawakening of Adam Dunn.

Adam Dunn has proven over the course of time to have one of the most unique skill sets in Major League Baseball; a heftily built outfielder/DH who can miss a pitch by 4 feet and then proceed to hit the following pitch 400 feet into the right field mezzanine. He leads American League hitters in strikeouts by an astounding 24 K's over Carlos Pena. However, he also sits in the top 5 in Walks (1st), Home Runs (3rd), and RBI's (5th). It's hard to imagine that array of statistics to be done in any other sport. That's like Durant winning the scoring title along with the rebounding crown, getting to the charity stripe more so than anyone else in the league, but simultaneously leading the league in turnovers. In my eyes, that's harder to imagine than why Kate left Tom. You know, besides the whole 5'2'' inch Scientologist that is 12 years her senior idea.

What is most impressive about Dunn's resurgence, though, is how he has done so in the face of a full-year of media scrutiny. Truth be told, Dunn was torn apart last year from Comcast Sports Net to The Score, and with good reason. He hit .159 with 11 homers in 2011. Still 159 points higher and 11 more homers than Jordan "JYD" Brodbeck hit in his Junior campaign for the Lake Zurich Bears, but nonetheless career worsts for the Donkey.

Chicago--much like New York, Boston, and Philadelphia--has the unique ability to ruin careers with the suffocation that their fans can allocate on the players who perform in their city. So, what perhaps is most impressive about Dunn is his ability to rise from rags to riches and return to All-Star form like Tony Danza in the Garbage-Picking, Field Goal-Kicking Philadelphia Phenomenon.

In similar fashion, the Sox have revitalized Kevin Youkilis' season and he is proving his mettle in the Sox lineup and producing timely hits and RBI's to an already solid rotation of run producers. Say what you want about Kenny Williams, but anytime you can get what Jonah Hill referred to as "The Greek God of Walks" in Moneyball who looks like he's fresh off the set of American Chopper all in exchange for Zach Stewart, Brett Lillibridge, and Brett Lillibridge's ears, you are doing something right.

Therefore, in adulation and admiration for the so-far, so-good 2012 White Sox, here's a toast to you. Your season has already produced an unrivaled amount of excitement from Hawk Harrelson as he inches towards becoming an octogenarian, but perhaps this season we can even hope for some from Ed Farmer as well. May Konerko and Dunn continue to inspire as the rest of us perspire in this wet, hot, American Summer in the City of Broad Shoulders.

As for Pick of the Day, the Pulse Man is thrilled to be back on duty betting with his heart as he feels the American League will take the Mid-Summer Classic tonight in Kansas City. Addionally, he likes Cutis Granderson to amass more hits and runs than Dan Uggla, who is the All-Star Game's resident goat after his 3 error performance some years back. People don't forget, Dan.

Pick of the Day: American League vs. National League-- AMERICAN (-143)

Now I'm done. Rack me

Frost

Don't Leave Me Teague Tied

Much like Arnold Schwarzenegger, women's leggings, and His Airness himself, Chicago Sports Noise is making a temporary comeback. The summer months have rendered me feeble and television-spent. Simply put, there are not enough episodes of the Real World: St. Thomas to service a full-day,and as much as I love getting my DDoD (Daily dose of Scott Disick) and his unflappable head of Pantene Pro-V infused flow, the free agent market of the NBA has me too pent up with confusion and amelioration to let it go unvoiced.

Coming off of what can be classified as one of the most disheartening seasons in recent memory for the Chicago Bulls, they now find themselves searching to temporarily piece together a roster that will be void of the face of their franchise. When the indestructible D. Rose succumbed to a non-contact knee injury (don't watch the link; you'll hate me) in the waning moments of a seemingly sure-fire victory, Chicago residents from the North Shore to the South Loop breathed a collective a gasp of anxiety. And, as the subsequent losses only proved how the non-potent Bulls would wilt against the Sixers like a Rose devoid of water (no pun intended), the news of Rose's prolonged absence had Bulls fans thinking only one question for the free agent summer of 2012: What will this team look like in 2013?


Considering the disposition of NBA players has shifted from a competitive breeding ground as it was during the Bush and Clinton administrations of the early 90's to a friendship-laden, AAU-like, "let me just be with my friends" infantile mindset that it has become under Bush and Obama's campaigns (ironic, eh?), the Bulls find themselves with some serious catching up to do (or Keeping Up to do, if you work for E!).

Steve Nash, the most sought after member of the free agent class of 2012, has clearly expressed that his favorite book of all time is The Color Purple and will be shifting shades and moving to Hollywood to play with another player who already dominates the ball. It's hard to even fathom what Kobe, Pau, and Nash will look like in purple and gold, but it might render something comparable to Crosby, Stills, and Nash on a healthy amount of hallucinogenics: all messed up with nowhere to go.

With Brooklyn proving as "trendy" as tortoise-rimmed Ray-Bans and rolled up denim, and with Houston offering ludicrous contracts to role players like their some bizarro version of the LA Clippers, Gar Forman is nesting the Bulls just where they need to be.

With the selection of Marquis Teague with their late-first round pick in last week's draft, the Bulls clearly went with the "best available" route like a late-night Lincoln Park single at Beaumonts. If this trend continues, it would render them letting Houston have Omer Asik for a preposterous amount of money for 6 points and 9 boards a game (rough estimate for 2013). The Bulls would most likely then go after Nazr Mohammed or Jordan Hill, who are both very capable of backing up our pony-tailed Parisian, Joakim Noah, at the 5 spot.

With the signing of the ol' Captain, Kirk Hinrich, the Bulls brought back a fan favorite who sold more tank tops to teenage white girls than Express and Forever 21 combined (the Pulse Man has one as well). In due time, fans at the Madhouse will be donning rec specs like bad-visioned teenagers with a resounding love for athletics. This signing leaves the Bulls with an immediate solution to Rose's absence if CJ Watson ventures outside of the 312 for increased cash flow, which is very plausible considering there are now 7 or 8 really relevant teams in the NBA due to the game's biggest superstars conglomerating like "Bros 4 Life"; seriously, get these guys some wooden paddles and a copy of the Greek Alphabet. Way to go, Lebron.

The Bulls will still need some work, though, and my favorite options left in the free agent pool for Chicago, regardless of whether they are pursuing them or not are: Jeff Green, Lou Williams, and JJ Hickson. You have no idea how hard it was for me to not include Delonte West on that list, but I just don't think that there are enough doughnut shops in Deerfield to keep this man happy.

As an NBA fan, I'm anxious to see how the next few weeks shape up in free agency and who ends up where. As a Bulls fan, I genuinely trust Gar Forman; albeit with the worst first name in professional sports.

As for Pick of the Day, the Pulse Man will return to duty tomorrow. He cannot operate on 24 hours notice. If you are wondering about his general well-being, let it be known to the world that he has a borderline girlfriend. If that's not enough information, please stay tuned and keep reading.


Now I'm done. Rack me.

Frost

*sorry for operating under this new, fairly ghetto URL. www.chicagosportsnoise.com was sold to an internet wholesaler who currently uses it to move sporting goods. It is in no way, shape, or form associated with this website.*