Jerry Reinsdorf was never going to fire John Paxson. He wasn’t going to let his son Michael do it, either. You don’t just dismiss family, not even when they’re ruining everything around you — sometimes, the more convenient option is to bury your head in the sand and convince yourself everything is fine even if it’s not.
Paxson wasn’t technically Jerry’s son or Michael’s brother, but he may as well have been after hitting the clinching shot in the 1993 NBA Finals and then spending two decades contorting the Bulls around the luxury tax line like a young Derrick Rose avoiding contact at the rim. Reinsdorf had already
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