Bulls Bard--The Verses
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Chicago Bulls basketball is my religion.  
​

Let me be clear--I do not worship a group of living men as though they are Gods.  I do, however, look to my city and its teams as a means to connect to something larger than myself--especially since life has taken me so far away from home.

Growing up in an Atheist/Jewish household, religion was never about God or belief systems.  Religion in my family was about traditions and rituals and spending time together--sneaking sips of too-sweet wine, stifling laughter, sitting stiller than we wanted to, singing while we wanted to run.

God always seemed like little more than a plot device to explain away the inexplicable in the heavily-moral fables told to us by dim-eyed adults, through thick Eastern-European accents.  He was the grouchy amusement park owner befuddling Scooby and the gang.  


I don’t mean to be irreverent or offensive here; I only mean to portray my experience honestly.  

My spiritual awakening came while watching Michael Jordan play basketball.  

That shit was real.  
And I was a part of it.
The whole city rode on his shoulders.
Michael could fly--and we could all fly with him.

This is how I first understood how it felt to connect to something larger--to be a part of something special.  Magical.  Religious.  I have flirted with orthodoxy ever since--religion in my home still taking the shape of traditions and rituals and spending time together.


No longer hiding the wine, stifling the laughter, sitting too still.

Now, I want to try to look at this game--so rich with stories and moments and meaning and truth--in a new way.  I want to interact with the games--refine them down to a point of light--dig out some meaning beyond the surface.  


Consider these poems private reflections.  
Or meditations.  
Or prayers.

I am the Bulls Bard.
And this is my Book of Verses.
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