Derrick Rose’s impact in Chicago goes way beyond basketball

For so many in Chicago, Derrick Rose wasn’t just a baller—he was hope personified. Now, with his No. 1 jersey soon climbing to the rafters, that reality shines even brighter.

On January 24, 2026, the Chicago Bulls will hang Rose’s jersey in the United Center during a post-game ceremony after hosting the Celtics. He’ll join icons like Michael Jordan, Scottie Pippen, Jerry Sloan and Bob Love. That’s elite company, and it’s a move th at speaks to more than stats. It says, “you changed our city.”

If you saw the video of him hearing about it—tears, disbelief—you felt it, too. Part of what made it real was the detail that stuck with fans: “No one wears No. 1 unless your kid, PJ, becomes a Bull,” Bulls CEO Michael Reinsdorf told him. That line hit like poetry—his legacy belongs to Chicago, and maybe one day, to his son.

This isn’t just about greatness on court—though there was plenty of that: Rookie of the Year, MVP at 22, pushing the Bulls to the East Finals in 2011—it’s about identity. Rose grew up in Chicago. He wasn’t just playing for a franchise, he was playing for a city healing after the glory years of Jordan.

Then the injuries hit—a brutal ACL tear in 2012, years of surgeries and rehab—and the narrative shifted. It became about perseverance. At times it was less about the scoring, more about that pure Chicago grit he showed every time he stepped on the court. One can never forget the 50‑poi nt game in Minnesota, tears flowing, the city watching in awe.

Makes sense then that this jersey retirement is more than ceremony—it’s emotional. There was already a Jan. 4 “Derrick Rose Day” in the city when he announced his retirement, and this is the next chapter of that. The Bulls turned a game into a shared experience, an event layered with meaning, community and history.

Rose once cracked on TV that he didn’t want a statue—he joked about the D‑Wade version that looked nothing like him. That humility feels Rose. He let the jersey speak louder than a sculpture ever could.

At the end of the day, this isn’t just about basketball highlights. It’s about a kid from Chicago who carried a city’s hopes, fell hard, got up and made giving back part of his story. As that No. 1 climbs the rafters, it’s the city cheering that counts most. Because Rose’s real legacy isn’t on his stat sheet—it’s in hearts he energized and generations he inspired.