Derrick Rose wears ‘I can’t breathe’ t-shirt in solidarity with Eric Garner protesters


Derrick Rose

Chicago Bulls player Derrick Rose made one of the biggest social statements of his professional career by wearing an “I Can’t Breathe” shirt while warming up before a game in solidarity with Eric Garner protesters.

While Rose did not make any verbal statements about a New York City grand jury’s decision not to indict the NYPD officer who fatally placed Garner in an illegal chokehold during an altercation in July. 

Despite consistent injuries, Derrick Rose vows to never stop playing basketball


All eyes have been on Chicago Bulls guard Derrick Rose since his days at Simeon Vocational Career Academy. He made history as the NBA’s youngest most valuable player ever.

But it’s Rose’s injuries that have kept him in the spotlight in recent months.

The latest one happened just a couple of weeks ago, when Rose tore his right meniscus on a simple backcut against Portland on November 22. Despite his setbacks, Rose is vowing to never stop playing.

The Return

Whether you’re from Chicago or a city in Thailand, it’s been pretty hard to miss the growing buzz around #TheReturn of Chicago native Derrick Rose. I have been fascinated by the responses from Derrick Rose fans throughout the world. It seems that many of them are rushing him to come back, for the sake of a possible championship. 

Chicago Bulls’ Derrick Rose Will Pay for Jonylah Watkins’ Funeral

According to reports, Chicago Bulls star Derrick Rose has offered to pay for the funeral expenses for Jonylah Watkins, the six-month-old girl who was shot five times earlier this week in Chicago’s Woodlawn neighborhood.

Rose, who has been the subject of a lot of controversy surrounding his knee rehab and when he’ll rejoin the Chicago Bulls, made the offer, according to Rev. Corey Brooks, who is a spokesman for the family of little Jonylah.

An Ode to Derrick R.O.S.E.

By Joshua A

My first love was hoopin. In my younger days, all I wanted to do is play basketball.

I would go for walks around the neighborhood, dribbling the ball for miles. My friends and I spent hours in my driveway on 105th & Wood playing endless pick up games. In the summer, I’d wake up to the sound of the guys shooting on my rim. I’d throw on some shorts and a tee to go outside to ball with them, pretty much the entire day. There were several times we even conquered the elements by playing in the pouring rain, or shoveling the snow so we could ball in Chicago’s freezing winters.

When my friends weren’t around, I ‘d practice for hours at a time. I’d shoot jumpers, yelling “Kobe” on the release, or work on my go-to-moves, imitating Scottie Pippen’s between the leg change of pace blow-by. I’d get angry at invisible defenders talking trash to me, getting a sense of revenge when I blew past them. I would work on my left hand, wanting to be like Michael Redd. I’d practice either until my mother said it was dinner time or until she told me to stop because she wanted me to be mindful of the neighbors.

I had some friends who were in gangs and were doing some things (won’t get into that), but for the most part, no one tried to get me to join a gang or get me into trouble, because I was a hooper. It’s kind of an unwritten rule that if you’re a good student or if you play sports, you get a free pass. People leave you alone.


Chicago is sad, depressed, in a funk. Our hopes of returning to NBA greatness shattered as Derrick Rose went down with a torn ACL last Saturday, late in the 4th quarter of game 1 of their first round playoff machup.

I want to write about something else, but I can’t. Man down. Our man, last year’s league MVP, down.