The Maurice Podoloff trophy stands sentry in the living room of his "little townhouse" near the Bulls' practice facility. Every day, on the way to the Skittles machine or out the door to the Berto Center, Derrick Rose can admire what he accomplished last season.

The trophy represents the past, which makes Rose wince, and more importantly, it's a testament to his basketball education.

"I look at it here and there," he said, when I asked if he thinks about what he accomplished last season. "I can't be caught up in it. That's just from working hard. I know if I work hard every summer, I don't have to think about it while I'm on the court. It's just going to happen."

Derrick Rose's breakout season culminated in his winning the NBA's MVP. Nathaniel S. Butler/Getty Images

Rose says basketball is about reaction -- "reacting here, reacting there"-- and while he talks, he starts snapping his fingers to simulate reaction. Rose is often asked if he plans his mesmerizing moves, which sent adults into childlike hysteria last season, and his answer is always the same.

"If you think too much," he said, "you're going to mess up."

Rose appreciates the enormity of his ascendance last season, but now that a new season has begun, most of his time is spent reacting. You saw how he reacted in the season opener, dropping in a floater in the lane over Pau Gasol with 4.8 seconds left to beat the Lakers.

Rose might be insanely famous, and thanks to his recent contract extension, insanely wealthy, but at his core, he is just a 23-year-old kid yearning for perfection in an imperfect world. And he's unhappy with last season, his best season, because last season was not perfect. Last season ended badly.

"It was the best year and the saddest year," Rose told me the other day.

After a long practice and a group interview about the season opener against the Lakers, I talked to Rose in the hallway that separates the practice floor from the locker room at the Berto Center to inform him that he was named, without a vote, ESPN Chicago's Sportsman of the Year.

I congratulated him on his $95 million extension and told him, facetiously, I had even bigger news: Our honorary award.

"Oh wow," he said, trying to sound earnest.