I wrote this last week when the idiot mass of Chicago sports writers decided as a gaggle to attack Derrick Rose like seals raping and eating penguins. (You know you be actin' a fool when Darrell Rovell is, like, #sigh.) Then I was all "fuck it" and it was forever going to chill in Word. But then the morons let Rick Morrissey get the back cover and do this. So I am done. Suck it, you old white assholes.

Dear Old White Men,

I get it. I really do.*

I've worked at the Sun-Times and for a Chicago sports magazine. Times are tough. You saw what Jay Mariotti was able to accomplish — a large bank account, a national TV show on ESPN, a movable hairline — and you want that. You want to fill that loud, obnoxious, angry, misguided and lucrative hole left in the Chicago sports landscape.

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But that money is vanishing. It's going to more talented Internet writers or simply disappearing. Newspaper revenues are falling faster than...actually, I don't think anything is falling that fast! (ZING!)** So, to create relevance, you try to invent controversy. You're trying to Fox News up the joint a bit to sell your #brand.

I get it. I really do.

The problem is when everyone cries wolf, you are not special. You are not a contrarian. You are not some unique voice. You just come off as a misinformed, lazy, red-faced idiot. Instead of looking at situations with logic, you get into email fights with my 61-year-old mother. (**cough** David Haugh **cough**.) Now the official theme of your back pages is who can yell the loudest. You have turned two once proud sports sections into tabloids. Of angry, aging white guys.

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Similar to Fox's demographics, you are targeting an aging readership. One that looks at an underperforming player and immediately questions their heart. One that doesn't want to hear about injuries or rotations or mismatches. One that irrationally gets livid at another human's paycheck for "playing a kid's game." One that has no interest in learning more about a subject once their MIND IS MADE UP. Rose is your #Benghazi and you're not going down without a damn fight.

I get it. I really do.

The real concern for me is that you don't understand what playing injured means. How the mental effects of a re-injury can be devastating and how your flippant attitude towards it is actually very dangerous — and not in just Rose's case, even though we saw the negative affects of that when he played with a tweaked hammy, causing a second season ending knee surgery. I guess if you haven't been through it, it could be hard to imagine. (Or you simply have zero empathy. Probably more the latter.) So let me help you.

I have ruptured both my shoulders' labrum, right UCL and left ACL and had a partial tear in my right rotator cuff. I had two labral shoulder surgeries and an ACL replacement. (Literally a dead guy's ACL.) I was so familiar with the physical therapy process, AthletiCo hired me to help open a new location. I've seen a thing or two.

I played baseball through most of these. My labrum rupture led to the UCL rupture. (I started protecting my shoulder when throwing by leading with my elbow.) The ACL rupture and eventual surgery led to back pain from a muscular imbalance. I have dislocated my shoulder so many times that I cannot recall most of them. Since I "hung 'em up," I spend most of my days catching myself before doing something as small as reaching for a pot.Will this dislocate my shoulder? is a constant thought. Everyday. Every activity.

I get it. I really do.

For years I avoided nearly every sports activity in fear I'd re-rupture my ACL. I had to have my knee brace on and I had to know who I was playing against. If I had some control of the situation, I could control the outcome. If I played basketball, I could avoid the lane and stick to threes. Then I re-ruptured the same ACL a little over a month ago slipping on a spilled drink. Even when in control, I had no control.

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I am looking forward to a life of limping, arthritis and pain. I have chosen not to get a second surgery on my knee and to completely retire myself from athletic activities beyond the necessary. (Which is actually quite a lot as a coach. Oh, I coach baseball.) I spent last weekend at a wedding avoiding the dance floor at all costs out of fear of my knee going out. I am 29-years-old.

I get it. I really do.

The youngest MVP in NBA history does not have the same luxury. The Chicagoan has to remove all doubt and just play. The first overall pick has to trust his knee won't go. His ankle won't give. His hammy won't pull. He cannot be me and sit beyond the arc and launch threes. Rose's game is attack, attack, attack the rim. And when he's healthy, he does just that, despite going down twice to season ending surgeries for doing just that.

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Call Rose stubborn for playing this way — even though it's what makes him great — and a dummy for the things he said the other day, but don't say he does't care. When I see Rose play, I see a guy putting his body on the line. Attacking the rim with aggression. He plays with, dare I say it, fucking heart.

I get it. I really do.

Could it be simply Derrick Rose is the byproduct of bad genetics and even worse luck? (A double ankle sprain? I mean come on.) What makes him so great — driving, cutting and crashing into defenders — is also what makes him so vulnerable? That he is just too physically gifted for his ligaments? Why must it be his heart? His desire to win? His manhood?

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Instead of a transitioning to a more Grantland-type mold — where things like intangibles and advanced stats and game strategy coexist and are freely discussed (AKA things that actually entice younger readers) — you continue to push the old, tired and bored narrative best suited for sports radio, a place that embraces angry sports ranting. Don't get me wrong, I worked for The Score and I truly believe it has its place, just not on your back page.

I don't necessary blame you. You are getting your cues from national guys like Skip Bayless and Charles Barkley who are making money hands over fist to be the guy you want to be. Yet, of Barkley's 16 year career, he played in 70 or more games exactly half the time. Does this make Charles Barkley soft? No. This makes Charles Barkley a fucking human. Just like Rose. Just like me.

I get it. I really do.

It's not lost on me that TV is most of your end game and in order to move up, you need to stand out. Being loud, appearing passionate and creating controversy is the quickest way. It's where the money is, and like David Haugh, that's not "dying" either.

I get it. I really do.

But, in the meantime, while you're still in Chicago, could you please just stop. We hear it enough from our drunk uncle.

Sincerely,

When_you_get_the_money_you_get_the_Micah_Hoffpauir

*These one line paragraphs are in honor of only the greatest and laziest sports writers.
**Newspaper Zinger!