During Media Day in 1997 to usher in the new season, Jerry Krause, general manager of the Chicago Bulls, was questioned by reporters wondering how the franchise would fare once Michael Jordan retired.

"Players don't win championships," Krause responded. "Organizations win championships."

Krause was trying to convey that becoming a championship-caliber team isn't as simplistic as being lucky enough to land a superstar. An organization must be astute at talent evaluation to bring in role players.

And the right coach is needed to guide the personnel.

Despite those valid points, Krause's words revealed jealousy that Jordan received most of the glory for Chicago's success during the 1990s.

But after forcing Coach Tim Floyd to resign last week, Krause confirmed that Chicago's six titles had little to do with his vision.

Krause, who inherited Jordan after Rod Thorn selected him in 1985, must have compromising pictures of owner Jerry Reinsdorf. That's as good an explanation as any for why Krause remains in power.

The Bulls are a case study that rebuilding is fraught with perils that can set a team back for years. But more than anything, it shows that management, which misconstrues fortune for brilliance, can turn a once-proud franchise into a laughingstock.

Krause's master plan began after the Bulls won the 1998 title. He decided not to re-sign Jordan, Scottie Pippen, Dennis Rodman and Coach Phil Jackson.

Looking toward the future can be prudent, but Krause's initially questionable decisions have turned out to be stupefying.

Over the summer, Krause traded for Charles Oakley, ostensibly to help groom Chicago's younger players.

Last season, Oakley slapped two opposing players in separate incidents. It wasn't long before Oakley made derisive public comments about Floyd that brought a $50,000 fine.

Before the 2001 draft, Chicago traded Elton Brand to the Los Angeles Clippers for the No. 2 pick, which turned out to be Tyson Chandler, a high-school star. Unless Chandler becomes the next Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, the move borders on incompetence.

The 22-year-old Brand averaged 20 points and 10 rebounds during his first two seasons. And almost as significant, Brand was a classy player with a strong work ethic who showed optimism about Chicago's future.

Most players would have demanded a trade after Chicago's summer of 2000, when everything was supposed to come together like a finished Rubik's cube.

The Bulls had millions to offer to Grant Hill, Tim Duncan and Tracy McGrady.

But players like Glen Rice used the Bulls to get more financial attention elsewhere. And Chicago had to overpay Ron Mercer, whose NBA career achievement consists of scoring for losing teams.

Krause deserves credit for contributing to Chicago's championships with some prudent moves: fleecing the Sonics in the Olden Polynice-for-Pippen trade; hiring Phil Jackson out of the CBA; selecting Horace Grant in the 1987 draft; and dealing Oakley for center Bill Cartwright despite Jordan's objections.

Although Reinsdorf has been overlooked in Chicago's troubles, the aloof owner deserves almost as much blame as Krause. Reinsdorf sided with Krause while passing on hiring Jordan into management upon retirement.

And in the summer of 1996, Reinsdorf showed that ego and arrogance are part of his organization's culture.

Jordan became a free agent after the Bulls defeated the Sonics in the 1996 NBA Finals. Jordan had been the NBA's best bargain during the first four championships before Chicago signed him to a record one-year deal for $33 million.

"We shook hands, but one comment stuck with me when we left," Jordan recalled in a revealing interview years ago with the New Yorker. "And I lost total respect for (Reinsdorf) when he said it: 'I know I'm going to regret what we just did.' "

Now, Bulls fans regret Krause's philosophy that organizations win championships.

The two Jerrys have shown that in Chicago's case it was mostly the players ? especially someone named Michael Jordan.