The Bulls' Latest Big Problem: Who Will Coach This Team?

Fans on social media and major basketball forums were in an uproar.

Houston Rockets fans were ecstatic. They photoshopped Barkley, Olajuwon, and Pippen together in Houston Rockets uniforms, with the caption beneath the image: "The setting sun may be infinitely beautiful, but it is near dusk? No—it is the final glow before dawn!"

Meanwhile, Chicago fans were torn apart emotionally.

"I can't accept this! We lost Scottie! The man who stood beside Michael through six championships! They kicked him out like trash!"

"Calm down, man. Pippen wanted to leave too. His conflict with management had become irreconcilable. At least this trade got us some players who can contribute right away, didn't it?"

"Contribute right away? An almost-retired Glide and a second-rate point guard? You call that immediate help? What are we supposed to use to fight that monster in New York? Michael alone? He's already thirty-four!"

"Krause can go to hell! He destroyed our dynasty!"

Yet the fans' anger and confusion were nothing compared to one man's fury.

Chicago, United Center, general manager's office.

With a bang, Jerry Krause's office door was violently shoved open. The enormous noise made even the Chicago Bulls team-history photos on the wall tremble.

Michael Jordan stood there with bloodshot eyes, glaring like an enraged lion at the short, stout, pale-faced man behind the desk.

"Jerry!" Jordan's voice was low and hoarse, filled with suppressed rage. "You'd better give me an explanation."

Krause instinctively adjusted his glasses and forced a smile uglier than a grimace. "Michael, calm down. I know you're reluctant to lose Scottie, but..."

"I'm not talking to you about feelings!"

Jordan stepped forward, planted both hands on the desk, and looked down at Krause. His overwhelming presence seemed to freeze the air in the entire office. "I'm asking you this: you traded