Krause has been established firmly as the needy and ego-driven schemer behind the dismantling of the dynasty, positioned opposite the axis of Phil Jackson and Michael Jordan and their tacitly implied desire to keep everything together for a run at a possible seventh NBA title. Right away, we're shown Jordan's monologue about who should get to decide when an era ends and who shouldn't, allowing the primary individual force involved in this television affair to define our experience with the complicated 1997-'98 Bulls.
Jordan was speaking at the conclusion of the previous season, however, and much would change in the ensuing calendar year that should be considered when retroactively assigning blame, to any extent that it may be deserved. Those of us who lived through it remember the last title as a largely grim and exhausting slog, during which things felt like they were coming apart inexorably until they finally did. It had a sense of conclusion from the very outset.
It wasn't just Krause's exasperation with Jackson and the weight of their endless feud, but that was indeed a critical component. Krause was a difficult and at times spiteful man, as paranoiac and embittered as long portrayed. His distrust of both media and his NBA counterparts kept him from creating relationships that could even begin to counterbalance his well-earned reputation, and Jerry Reinsdorf's loyalty was rock solid enough for him to not need or want to improve his social or political skills. There's a presumption that it may be unfair to tell this story with the late Krause unable to speak his piece, but that forgets that his appearances before a camera often resulted in self-inflicted harm as much as any benefit.
It was clear that Krause already had been wary of letting a veteran group erode into a full and expensive decline, a concern that had him considering a trade of Scottie Pippen to the Celtics just ahead of the 1997 draft. But Reinsdorf's assertion of power kept that from happening -- a move not made that led directly to the re-signing of Jackson in July and Jordan in August and the start of the film's focus.
But we can't be assuming facts not in evidence as we analyze what happened and what would've happened. Let's say that despite Krause's sourly gleeful declaration that Jackson's expiration date was set in stone and his transparently passive-aggressive public courtship of Tim Floyd, Reinsdorf again held sway by firing Krause and empowering Jackson as the top basketball executive. What then?
Without even addressing the salary-cap complications, a 1998-'99 contention would've started with a 35-year-old Jordan running on fumes after again playing deep into the summer, averaging 39 minutes in 82 regular season games and 41.5 minutes in 21 more playoff games. His effectiveness was already waning from its peak, with both his offensive rating (114) and defensive rating (100) at career full-season lows. Dennis Rodman would've been 37, and he would only go on to play 35 more NBA games. Pippen was only a shell of himself after the the 1998 championship, undergoing spinal fusion surgery over the summer and never returning close to previous All-Star form.
The point is that this was most likely it for the championship Bulls, regardless of anyone's competitiveness, professionalism, previous accomplishments, loyalty, desire or shared history. Jordan must understand that the decisions about when eras end may not be up to any one person at all but time and age itself. That more than any of the petty personal squabbles was the ever-present and palpable atmosphere that surrounded this team.
Jerry Krause may have been all the things being said about him, but to blame him solely as the villain who blew up some inevitable future championship team is to ignore much more powerful and still-undefeated effects.