BrokenCowboy: Sports Views with a West Coast Bias

"Do something, and do it now."

There is an apocryphal story about a match-up between Satchel Paige and Josh Gibson, two of the greatest players in baseball history. It's said that Old Satch intentionally walked three straight hitters in the ninth inning, just to get to Gibson. Not satisfied, Paige upped the ante by asking his outfielders to come in and sit down on the infield grass, no doubt infuriating Gibson. As the story goes, Satchel struck out his old buddy on three pitches.

So why do I use an old yarn from the Negro Leagues as a lead for a story about the end of the Lakers' season? It just seems appropriate, I guess. All season long, as Kobe's inconsistent teammates have failed him due to either injury or inconsistency, the story of Josh and Satch kept popping into my head. With Chris Mihm watching eighty-two games in a suit, Kwame Brown missing forty-one games due to physical and emotional fragility, free agent saviour Vladimir Radmanovich losing twenty-seven games to a mysterious skiing accident, Lamar Odom sitting out twenty-six and returning with a battered shoulder, and Luke Walton missing more than twenty games with a bad ankle, there were far too many nights when everything was left to Kobe, one man standing on a hill.

To be sure, this Laker team wasn't seriously going to challenge the West's Holy Trinity (Henry Abbott does a great job detailing this over at ESPN.com in a pre-game post-mortem, with a big assist from Kurt at Forum Blue & Gold), but things certainly could've gone a lot better than they did.

The problem now, of course, is that Kobe Bryant has just spent another precious year of his basketball prime, and the Lakers don't have a damn thing to show for it. Mitch Kupchak and Jim Buss should certainly be busy this summer, and Kobe will definitely be watching. When asked what he thought they they should do, Kobe's response was quick and to the point: "Do something, and do it now." (Speaking of Kupchak, I'm not sure which was the more disturbing moment of Wednesday night's TNT telecast: the shot of a shell-shocked Kupchak in the final moments, blinking in confusion like Boo Radley in the glare of the midday sun; or that skinny white kid in the Magic throwback who weirded his way to two seconds of national spotlight.)

But back to Kobe. The great ones understand that their careers are measured through the wide lens of history, and so Kobe must be thinking about what his legacy will be. As Abbott mentions in his blog, things once looked good for Kobe. Five years ago his Lakers (well, mabye they weren't really his Lakers yet) had just dismantled the New Jersey Nets and claimed their third straight NBA title. Looking around the rest of the league, it didn't seem like there was anything that could get in the way of several more championships, but we know what happened next. (And just for the record, we blame Shaquille O'Neal. Don't argue with us about this.)

As we sit in 2007, Kobe's body of work looks very different than we might've expected. If things continue the way they're going and his career follows its natural arc, his induction to basketball's Hall of Fame could sound something like this: "Kobe Bryant won three NBA championships, and three All-Star game MVPs. He won three scoring titles, was selected first team All-NBA seven times, and first team All-Defensive six times."

Not a bad résumé, but here's what will be left unspoken: zero titles without Shaq, zero regular season MVPs. And if you're having a discussion about the greatest players in the history of the league, and one of those players has two glaring holes like that, he'll be asked to leave the conversation pretty quickly.

How does Kobe feel about all this? How does he feel about a third year of mediocrity? "Beyond frustration... three years, and still being at ground zero."

The good news, I guess, is that when you're at ground zero, the only way you can go is up. The question, though, is how the Lakers can get there.

There are two routes, and neither is a slam dunk.

Stay the Course
In this model, the Lakers look at this season as a fluke. Afterall, how can any team survive a year in which five of its top seven players miss a total of 198 games to injury? When Luke Walton was healthy he shot well from beyond the arc and helped run the triangle. Lamar Odom played like a warrior in in the elimination game and is still one of the most versatile and talented players in the league. Kwame Brown (and I'm probably the millionth person to write the following lines) has a world of potential if he can only stay healthy, keep his head out of his ass, and stop throwing cakes at people. Jordan Farmar was a pleasant surprize who should probably get better. And then there's the future of the franchise, Andrew Bynum, the next in the line of great Laker centers.

If you believe in this plan, you believe that all of those guys will get better. You believe that Rony Turiaf is M.L. Carr plus talent. You believe that Mitch Kupchak can manufacture a point guard who can actually defend. You probably also believe that the NFL wants to put a team in Los Angeles.

Switch Horses
Followers of this faith don't believe that Andrew Bynum will be done cooking before Kobe runs out of gas. They realize that he is the only player on the roster with any value, and that he should be immediately flipped for either Jason Kidd or Kevin Garnett, ringless players who would team with Kobe and waltz to the championship. If you're a member of this cult, you've conveniently forgotten the last time two future Hall of Famers came to Los Angeles to win a ring.

The Answer
So here's what the Lakers should do. I've always been in favor of staying the course, but after seeing Kobe's dejection following this latest loss, I've finally changed my mind. The Lakers have never been a team that's waited for things to happen, so I don't see why they should start now. If they can manage to package Bynum for a big star (Garnett, JKidd, Jermaine O'Neal, even Paul Pierce) to play alongside Kobe and Lamar, I'm willing to sign on. Bynum is at least two or three years away, by which point Kobe could be gone.

My guess, though, is that Kupchak and Buss will choose to stay the course. They'll slide in some disposable veterans, draft a couple kids with potential, and talk about how much progress Bynum and Farmar have made in the off-season. There will be a glitzy marketing campaign promising a return to glory -- or maybe they'll just go with "Lights On!" And then one night in early November Kobe Bryant will do what he does best. With all of his teammates watching, he'll fire one fastball after another, one man alone on a hill.

Kobe Being Kobe

Here's a little something to keep you cool during the long, hot summer that stretches between now and next basketball season. Kobe's Greatest Hits, playoff style. You know, I kinda miss the Baby 'Fro.

Excuse Me While I Kiss the Sky

Here's an update on the Dwight Howard saga. While Michael Jordan, Dr. J, and Dominique Wilkins were busy pushing their affirmative action campaign to get a short person in the Slam Dunk finals, poor Dwight Howard was ignored. I've already talked about his ridiculous Sticker Slam, but now we've got video of the dunk that would've destroyed the competition in the second round. Home boy actually kisses the rim. Check this out:

Call Me Mr. Papageorgio

Against all odds, I actually watched a fair amount of the NBA’s Vegas Vacation this weekend, and I’m here to tell you that it wasn’t that bad, as long as you did it right.

First of all, pay no attention to anything that happens on Saturday afternoon. The rookie game sounds good on paper, but it’s really nothing more than a bunch of guys who aren’t all-stars playing let’s pretend, kind of like when you used to put on your dad’s tie and carry his brief case around the house.

The next thing to miss is the deal where they form three-person teams and have a shooting contest. What do you get when you mix a WNBA player, a mediocre NBA player, and a legend who should probably be wearing sweats instead of his old uniform? Snoozeville. Sure, there was a bit more drama since Scottie Pippen was essentially auditioning for another trip around the league (Heat? Lakers?), but even so -- Snoozeville.

The three-point shooting contest was marginally interesting (though not as compelling as Gilbert Arenas’s recent post-practice $20,000 showdown with Deshawn Stevenson), if only because a guy like Jason Kapono smoked superstars Arenas and Dirk Nowitzki. Kapono, by the way, got extra points for mocking teammate Shaquille O’Neal’s freethrow shooting during his post-contest interview.

Next you had the Skills contest, which is basically like the NBA’s version of the obstacle course that used to serve as the dramatic finale of ABC’s Superstars competition. It’s interesting that the NBA struggles to get big names to sign up for the dunk contest (more on this later), but the league’s three brightest stars (Kobe, D-Wade, and Bron-Bron) came out for this. It was like watching Tiger Woods and Phil Mickelson playing miniature golf. They’re competing, but really, what’s the point?

The Barkley-Bevetta match-up was interesting, probably more interesting than anything else that happened on Saturday night. The build up was worthy of a heavyweight championship fight, with weeks of lead in. Aside from Bevetta’s headlong dive as he tried in vain to catch a backpeddling Barkley at the wire, two quotes summed up the event. Before the race from Bevetta, when asked about Barkley’s chances: “I’ve learned never to underestimate the heart of a champion.” I think he meant to say, “never underestimate the heart of a Western Conference champion, but he’s old. We’ll let it slide. The second quote, from a panting Barkley following the race: “We raised a of lot money for a good cause... (looking at $50,000 check) Well, we raised two blackjack hands for a good cause.” And Bevetta just looked on, blood from his knee running down his leg.

All of which led us to what we’re supposed to believe is the highlight of the evening. To be honest, the dunk contest stopped being cool years ago. In fact, this is the first year in a while that I actually recognized all of the names in the contest. But dunking is still dunking, which will always be cooler than three-point shooting or basketball obstacle courses, so I watched.

If you didn’t watch, the first thing you need to know is that Dwight Howard got hosed. He unleashed one of the most impressive dunks you’ll ever see -- while slapping a sticker on the backboard twelve-and-a-half feet above the floor.
The judges responded by bouncing him from the competition in favor of the pogo stick (Gerald Green) and the pixie stick (Nate Robinson).

That Green eventually won doesn’t really manner. Robinson’s presence in the finals -- no, his very presence in the competiton -- is what bothers me. I understand the whole “freak of nature” thing, plus the underdog thing, but it’s really getting old. Remember when you were in high school and some yahoo got the clever idea to nominate the biggest dork in school for Homecoming King? So up on stage you had four guys who just stepped out of an Abercrombie ad standing next to an extra from Revenge of the Nerds. It was funny for the first five minutes, but then you had to look away.

With the dunk contest, it’s time to look away. When you’ve got a guy who’s shorter than a refrigerator winning the contest one year and clanking dunks in the finals the next, it’s time to look away.

But fear not. As I look away, I look towards a brighter future, one with a more perfect slam dunk contest. Here’s how we get there:

1. Nominate the Nerd
Okay, we’re not really nominating the nerd. The guys who are doing it now are the nerds, we need an Abercrombie. So each year the NBA (or Nike) twists one arm. For argument’s sake, we’ll start with Vince Carter. (Future years might see LeBron, Kobe, McGrady, guys like that.) So you take the junior varsity boys and let them do their thing -- jumping over chairs, bouncing the ball off Steve Nash’s head, etc. -- until you’ve got a winner. Then the King of the Dorks advances to the fiinals where he’ll face Vinsanity. The NBA will market this like only the NBA can -- Old School vs. New School; Generation X vs. Generation Next; stuff like that -- and they’ll have weeks to promote it. Editor's Note: I first proposed this idea two years ago. Apparently David Stern still has it under consideration.

2. Up the Ante
Get a big sponsor, someone like Nike or Sprite, to pony up with a prize worth playing for. Sure, the trophies look nice, but nothing says bling like an environmentally irresponsible SUV! Just as the finals start, have someone -- perhaps Sinead O'Brittney? -- drive a big-ass Escalade out onto the court. That'll get the juices flowing.

3. Change the Game
Here’s the best part. Once we get to the finals, we play HORSE. No help from teammates, no props (unless you want to dunk on Dick Bevetta), just you, the ball, and the rim. Carter goes first, ripping off a hellacious dunk, and the Dork King will then do his best to execute the same dunk. Judges will decide which contestant’s dunk was better, and the other guy will get an H. In round two King Dork will go first and Carter will try to match. You're right, that is the best idea you've ever heard. The guys would still be able to prepare a few dunks, but the attraction of this format would be seeing these superior athletes imitating dunks on the spot. Just imagine the buzz when somebody breaks the other guy's serve. Oh, and in between rounds you can bring out a trampoline and have Nate Robertson bust out a few power dunks.

Okay, I'm done. Tune in next week when I'll offer a solution to global warming and cure the common cold. Until then...

The Myth of Kobe Bryant

Toiling for eternity in the pages of Dante's Inferno are dozens of mythical characters enduring timeless punishment for earthly sins, ranging from Sisyphus and his boulder to Tantalus and the vanishing water. If you follow the master's path through hell and look in the right place, perhaps a few circles before you come to Judas Iscariot in the mouth of the devil, you might come across a basketball player, a fallen angel placed in a similar impossible situation.

Watch the player for just a second, and he takes your breath away. The athletic abiltiy is blinding, the basketball acumen staggering. Are there others like him? As good? Possibly, but listen to his story.

At seventeen he defied everyone who knew anything about succeeding in the NBA, and leapt from Lower Marion, Pennsylvania, straight into the abyss of the National Basketball Association. Like Icarus before him, the young prodigy followed his father into the rare air, skipping college basketball altogether. For many, this was the first sign of the apocalypse. Straight outta the suburbs and fluent in Italian, if this boy wasn't going to college, who would?

The ascent to stardom was shockingly steep. His greatness was recognized early on by one of the wise ones, and the boy was plucked from the backwaters of Charlotte and inserted into the glare of Los Angeles, where age ain't nothin' but a number. Seventeen or not, the boy was seen by many as the next great one, heir to the Air's throne.

And then there was the afternoon in Utah when the boy flew too close to the sun and crashed to the earth, pulling his team down with him. Many observers saw this as the beginning of the end, but they couldn't have been more wrong. William Blake once wrote that "No bird soars too high, if he soars with his own wings," and young Kobe Bryant was, indeed, soaring.

The embarassment of those airballs in Utah would fuel Bryant's burning desire to win and ultimately make him a better player, but he really had no idea what he was getting himself into. As fans and media noted with concern the decline and feared the inevitable departure of the great Michael Jordan, they eagerly placed young Kobe next in line. And who wouldn't want to be the Next?

Suddenly Kobe Bryant went about the business of basketball and championships, all the while playing with a sword of Damocles hanging over his head. The press badly wanted him to take the torch from Jordan, but at the same time, they couldn't bear the thought that he actually wanted it. How could this boy pretend to be Jordan's equal when he hadn't won a single championship?

And once the championships started coming -- several years ahead of Michael's schedule, by the way -- the question changed. Wasn't he just standing on the shoulders of a giant? Weren't the Lakers really Shaquille O'Neal's team?

And it was at about this point in the drama that our hero started showing us another side. He was suddenly selfish instead of sublime, petulant instead of precocious, immature instead of impressive. He pouted about his role in the offense, questioned those who suggested he concede leadership to a player who refused to push himself as a great one would, and bristled at the idea that he should dial back his game.

Did he handle himself as he should have at all times? Did he act as a leader should? Did he act professionally? Did he respect his teammates and coaches? Certainly not. But few of us can say we always made the right decisions when we were twenty-three. Prodigy or not, this boy was no different.

And then there was the ultimate fall from grace. Say what you will about the events in Eagle, Colorado, or the trial that ensued, but one thing is for sure. Those months gave us a glimpse of a player so driven, so single-minded, so supremely talented that he could find himself engaged in legal proceedings in the morning, then exorcise his demons by playing with such ferocity in the evening that many suspected he feared the worst. If he had been convicted and that season had been his last, he seemed determined to leave us with a lasting image of his artistry on the basketball court. And maybe he was.

Then came what was, for many, the final indignity. In a massive collision of egos, the boy king emerged victorious over the aging giant and the shrewd coach. Most believed that Kobe had orchestrated the entire process, and when he was finally given the reins to the chariot as Shaquille O'Neal was wisely ushered out the door, most predicted disaster.

Jump forward to 2005-06, and even as Kobe slashed and burned his way through the league, he did so with a fatal flaw clinging to his neck like a giant albatross for all to see. His very name and image, the only currency that matters in a league driven by star power, supercede anything he accomplishes on the court. Everything he does will be criticized, and it's likely that nothing will change that for his entire career.

Remember when he scored 62 points through three quarters against the Mavericks earlier this season, then sat out the fourth because his team had a huge lead? He was roundly criticized -- he should've kept shooting. And then when his team was listless and losing by double digits a few weeks later against Toronto and Kobe responded by dropping 81 points to secure a win? The critics were louder this time. Even Vince Carter, the patron saint of Me First, found time to rail against Kobe's selfishness.

You have to understand all of this to understand what's happened in the wake of the Lakers' recent loss to the Suns in the first round of the Western Conference playoffs. There are several different stories going around about what happened in the seventh game, but they're really just different verses of the same song. Perhaps Kobe wanted to prove a point, so he didn't shoot in the second half. Maybe he was afraid of trying and failing. Or, and this is even more damning, maybe he simply gave up.

Now let's look at the facts. This Laker team was picked by almost no one to make the playoffs. As late as February or March, they were in complete disarray and bouncing back and forth between the seventh and tenth spots in the West. Making the postseason as the seventh seed, they advanced to face the second-seeded Phoenix Suns, and they played brilliantly for five games, led by the nonpareil performance of Mr. Bryant.

Certainly, the near-miss in game six and the collapse in game seven were regrettable, but all that really happened was that the Lakers lost four out of seven games (or five out of seven, if you subscribe to Steve Nash's arithmetic) to a superior team. Los Angeles had played far over its head for one reason. Kobe Bryant had willed players like Smush Parker, Luke Walton, Sasha Vujacic, and even Lamar Odom to reach heights they had never in their lives enjoyed. They made open shots, they worked hard on defense, they accepted the challenge jointly laid down by Kobe and Phil Jackson.

If there was one moment that exemplified this new Laker team, one lifted by Bryant rather than carried, it came at the end of regulation in game four. With the game all but lost, the previously lost Parker came up with a miraculous steal and somehow tapped the ball to Bryant. Kobe then raced down the court and tossed in a shot which shook Staples Center and downtown Phoenix to their cores. And then came moment that really mattered. Instead of basking in the glory of his shot, Kobe instead ran straight to Smush, threw his arms around his neck and screamed into his ear, "You're a bad motherfucker! You're a bad motherfucker!" And the interesting thing was that when the rest of the team arrived, they followed Kobe's lead. It was as if Superman were giving Jimmy Olsen credit for saving Lois Lane, and everybody bought it.

Listen to the mainstream media, though, and you hear something completely different. In the game one loss Kobe's performance was called "passive," and when he scored fifty in the game six loss, he was being selfish. Two nights later, when he followed the game plan, correctly realizing that he had to involve his teammates in order to beat the Suns on their own floor, he was giving up.

Damned if you do, damned if you don't.

And so it will always be with Kobe. Witness the recent results of this year's MVP balloting. Steve Nash is certainly a deserving winner, but Kobe Bryant's fourth place finish is almost mysterious enough to invalidate the entire process. Twenty-two of the 125 voting writers didn't see fit to include him on their five-person ballot.

What are we to make of that? How can we explain these twenty-two writers? There is no answer to this Catch-22. Kobe isn't one of the five best players in the league? There are five guys who did more to elevate their teams? There's obviously more going on here. Kobe's been collecting baggage for almost a decade now, starting with the night in Utah and extending to the darker night in Colorado and beyond, and twenty-two writers apparently aren't willng to let any of that go.

As the Lakers move forward from this recent loss, they'll begin the process of building on the success of this season, and everything they do will correctly revolve around the boy who was once thought to be the Next One. Knowing the young boy's talent and the knowledge of those guiding the organization, it wouldn't be surprizing if another championship came his way before too long.

What would be shocking, though, would be a change in people's perception of Kobe Bryant. As unlikely as a day of rest for Sisyphus or a drink of water for Tantalus. Not even Dante would write an ending like that.

The Mamba Strikes

I was wrong. I wasn't surprized that the Lakers were able to take game two of their series against the Suns, but I didn't think it would go down the way it did.

Like most of the rest of the world, I was fairly certain that Kobe Bryant would come out firing. I figured he'd be good for at least ten or fifteen points in the opening quarter on his way to forty or so for the game, but the Lakers won this game, not Kobe.

To be fair, Kobe was a huge part of this win, as the offense ran through him the entire night. On almost every Laker possession, Kobe would get the ball early in the clock, earlier than he did during the regular season, and wait patiently for the double team. Sometimes he'd spot Kwame Brown or Lamar Odom in the post, other times he'd fire the ball out to the perimeter where an open Luke Walton, Sasha Vujacic, or Smush Parker would confidently bury the jumper.

The game plan worked to perfection as the Lakers used a 19-0 run in the second quarter to help grab a fifteen-point halftime lead, then held off several Phoenix runs in the second half to win the game and even the series.

The signature moment of the game -- and of the entire playoffs so far -- came with just over three minutes remaining in the fourth quarter. After the Suns had closed the gap to seven points and forced a miss from Walton, the rebound bounced free towards the sideline. Odom dove to the floor to corral the loose ball, then rifled the ball to a streaking Kobe Bryant who elevated immediately and let loose a thunderous dunk in the face of Steve Nash. The Phoenix guard crumpled to the deck while Kobe swung from the rim just long enough for us to wonder why in the world there are reports that Nash will be awarded the MVP instead of Bryant.

Suddenly the Lakers were up by nine again, and although the Suns still made another push and the game wasn't put away until deep inside the final minute, Kobe's posterization of Nash was significant. It gave the Suns a peek behind the curtain, a reminder that although he's been lying in the reeds for most of these two games, the Mamba will still strike when cornered.

So as the Suns get ready to enter the Mamba's lair as the series moves to Los Angeles for games three and four, they find themselves in a rather precarious position. They've lost the home court advantage in a series against the seventh seeded team, and they might soon be dividing their time between the golf course and the fishing hole.

Here's how I see it. The Lakers will defend their home court on Friday and Sunday, lose a close one to a desperate Phoenix team on Tuesday, then wrap it up back home in game six. You can count on it.

Then again, I've been wrong before.

Sunrise Service

A strange thing happened on Sunday afternoon in Phoenix, but it wasn't the fact that the Suns prevailed over the visiting Lakers, 107-102, taking a one-up lead in their first round Western Conference playoff series. No, the big upset was that Kobe Bryant floated through the game, passing rather than penetrating, distributing rather than dominating.

The idea seems to be that Kobe and Phil Jackson concocted this scheme in order to get everyone else on the team involved. As the theory goes, they were actually willing to sacrifice this first game in order to stroke the egos of Kwame Brown, Luke Walton, and all the rest. Losing the battle to win the war, as they say.

And you know what? It actually makes sense. Even as he's been pouring in points at near-record pace, Kobe has still been more of a facilitator in the opening quarter of games, involving his teammates early before taking over late. If we look at this game as simply the opening quarter of the series (though Laker fans hope it will last longer than three more "quarters"), the strategy makes sense.

More than most coaches, Jackson has an ability to look at a playoff series for what it is -- a series of games. I don't think he's said it yet this year, but he surely will at some point: "a playoff series doesn't really start until the home team loses a game." By that logic, the Suns did nothing more on Sunday than hold serve, while the Lakers gained confidence.

Without their leading scorer, the rightful MVP (more on that later this week), the Lakers were still in the game until the end and even led briefly midway through the final period. Had it not been for the eye-opening performance of Tim Thomas, the Lakers might even have stolen this opening game. The opening game might have gotten away, but don't be surprized if they end up stealing the series.

And where would they go from there? How about the NBA finals? Here's how:

1. Beat the Suns.
Yes, the Suns have been great all season, and so has Steve Nash, but they aren't the team they were last year or even earlier this year. As soft as they are in the middle, their only chance to advance in these playoffs is for Nash to dominate the way he did during last year's playoffs. The problem for the Suns, though, is that he doesn't appear healthy enough to do that. After the Real Kobe shows up for Game 2 and drops 46 points (write it down), the Lakers will go on to take the series in six games.

2. Beat the Clippers.
I've been rooting for a Laker/Clipper matchup in the playoffs since Christmas, and it looks like it actually might happen. Nothing could be better for the Clippers than to beat the Lakers and finally establish some much needed legitimacy in Los Angeles, but that's not happening this year. Lakers in seven.

3. Beat the Mavericks.
The Mavericks had the second best record in the West, but could only finish second in their own division, giving them the fourth seed and a ticket to San Antonio for the second round. This should be the year that Dallas finally beats someone serious, and they matchup fairly well with San Antonio, especially if Tim Duncan is less than 100%. Anyway, if the Lakers get to the conference finals and see the Mavericks waiting for them, they might as well book a flight to Detroit. Kobe owns them, and everyone in Texas knows it.

So there it is. Easy, huh?

Crossing Jordan

Basking in the afterglow of Kobe Bryant's 81-point game, I wrote a piece on how Kobe has stretched the boundaries of basketball possibility. Within that article I speculated that the Mamba had a fairly decent shot at pushing his scoring average to historic levels by the end of the season. His current average (35.7) would be good for seventh best all-time, but Kobe actually has a shot to surpass Michael Jordan's best season (37.1), the only measuring stick that really matters. (Wilt Chamberlain topped that mark four times, including a ridiculous 50.4 in '61-'62, but Wilt's numbers are a bit too stratospheric to merit discussion here.)

Anyway, since the Lakers have been doing an excellent job of pissing me off lately, I thought I'd focus a bit on something that doesn't really matter -- Kobe's pursuit of Jordan. So in the upper right-hand corner of this site, I'll be posting a "Kobe Meter" which will track his current average and what he'll have to average the rest of the way to catch MJ. It should be fun. (For a great resource on all things connected with single-season scoring in the NBA, check this link. Also, check out Forum Blue & Gold for an interesting piece on the recent double- and triple-teams Kobe's been seeing, something that might limit his chances in this race.)

The Unstoppable Force and the Immovable Object

So what happens when the unstoppable force (Kobe Bryant) meets the immovable object (Detroit Pistons)? We found out on Sunday afternoon, and if it were simply a battle between those two, you'd have to say it was a push. Kobe got his (39 points), but so did the Pistons (37th win).

Basketball purists probably saw this game as something of a symbol, the ultimate lesson in the value of the team over the individual. Sure, they'd tell you, Kobe Bryant is the best player in the game, but look what happens when he goes up against the best team in the game.

All right, the purists might be right, but we really didn't need this game to illustrate their point. All of us -- even Kobe -- understand that.

But this contest was notable not because of any morals dispensed but because we saw both sides of the NBA's coin in the same game. On the one side, you've got Kobe Bryant, the most phenomenal (and furious, according to Scoop Jackson) individual in the league, and on the other you've got the Pistons, the most phenomenal team, and both are heading in opposite directions chasing their own pieces of history.

The Pistons have quietly won 37 of their first 42 games, putting them on pace to match the 72 wins put up by the '95-'96 Chicago Bulls. When the Pistons won the NBA title two years ago, thrashing the Lakers along the way, they were able to sneak up on fans and analysts alike who couldn't believe that a team devoid of superstars was either interesting enough to watch or good enough to win a championship. They won't have that luxury this year, however, as they'll likely enter the playoffs with seventy wins, give or take.

For Kobe, the path towards history is a bit different. His 39 points on Sunday left him a bit shy of his January average (44 points), but it still raised his season average a tick to 35.9. Kobe won't ever admit as much, but it's my guess that he measures himself against Michael Jordan just like Tiger chases Jack. And if Kobe doesn't already know that Michael's best scoring season was 37.1, he'll surely hear it often enough over the next few months. If Kobe can top that mark, and I'm certain he will given the Lakers' spot in the playoff race and the recent ineptitude of their offense, he'll not only outdo Michael, he'll be walking in the clouds with Wilt Chamberlain, the only other player to reach such levels. What will it take? If he averages forty a game the rest of the way (and won't you be surprized if he doesn't?) he'll finish at 37.8, good for the fourth-best season of all-time.

That would be nice, but it wouldn't be Kobe's most amazing accomplishment this season, not by a longshot. And no, I'm not talking about the 62 in three quarters, or even the 81.

Kobe has made us forget. It wasn't long ago that I was writing in this space about how I would have a hard time rooting for him again after his escapades in Colorado, but he's had me back under his spell since early in December. He might not be the best husband, but he's the best basketball player I've ever had the opportunity to watch on a game-by-game basis (he writes skillfully, avoiding the MJ question), and there's no sense wasting time on morality issues.

You see what Kobe has done? He's made me and thousands of others throw our values out the window, dunk you very much. Those fans who were on their feet throughout the fourth quarter last Sunday night, living and dying with every shot, chanting first "Ko-be! Ko-be! Ko-be!" and then "MVP! MVP! MVP!" are the very same citizens who booed him a year ago. The sycophantic analysts who gush daily over his brilliance are the same ones who were absolutely sure that Jerry Buss should've kept Shaquille O'Neal instead.

But things change.

Kobe has even made us forget what is impossible. Remember when Wilt Chamberlain's 100 point mark sat comfortably alongside Roger Maris's 61 home runs, Lou Gehrig's 2,130 consecutive games, and Bob Beamon's 29'2 1/2" long jump, unbreakable records all? Kobe has shown us that maybe Wilt's game does belong with those other feats, all of which have been bettered in recent years. Over the course of forty-eight minutes, the unfathomable was suddenly possible. Couldn't Kobe (or Allen Iverson, for that matter) string together four twenty-five point quarters in a row? Couldn't he have squeezed out an extra nineteen points last Sunday? Maybe one day we'll know.

But the more things change, the more they remain the same. Last Sunday's game showed us that the Lakers are definitely at their best when Kobe scores a lot, but this Sunday's game reminded us that basketball is still a team game, and a great team will almost always beat a great player, unstoppable or not.

And so for the next three months, I'll enjoy the two chases, watching the Pistons from afar and Kobe up close. It's not clear how the two will end up, but one thing's for certain. When the unstoppable force collides with the immovable object, the result can be summed up in one word: history.

81. Any Questions?

If you've been losing any sleep recently while wondering who is the NBA's Most Valuable Player, I've got two words for you: sweet dreams. Kobe Bryant's performance on Sunday night against the Toronto Raptors has erased any doubt.

Supporters of Steve Nash will argue that he's carried his team in the absence of its leading scorer (Amare Stoudemire) and played even better than he did last year when he won the '05 MVP. Others might point toward Detroit's league-best record and insist that either Rip Hamilton or Chauncey Billups should be honored. If you ask in the right neighborhoods, you might even find some willing to stump for Tony Paker, Dwyane Wade, or LeBron James.

They'd all be wrong. Kobe Bryant is your MVP, and it's not even close.

But before we talk about the bomb he dropped on Sunday, let's take a look at the fuse that's been burning for two weeks now. After serving a two-game suspension to open 2006, Kobe returned with a vengeance, putting up some obscene point totals: 48, 50, 45, 41, 27, 38, 37, 51, 37. Sure, he was shooting a lot -- sometimes thirty or even forty a game -- but somehow the shots all seemed to come within the flow of the offense. (And if you've bought into the hype about how he doesn't make his teammates better, check out this piece at 82games.com that debunks that myth completely.)

So after averaging forty-one and a half over those nine games, he nearly doubled that when he hammered the Raptors with EIGHTY-ONE POINTS, giving him a ten-game average of 45.5, which is nice. As crazy as all that is, it gets even better. Consider:

• Kobe scored 55 points in the second half. That matches the all-time single-game high of Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, the NBA's all-time leading scorer.

• No other player has scored as many as 55 points in an entire game this season. (Wait, except for Kobe. He dropped sixty-two on the Mavs last month.)

• Kobe's 81 points is the second highest point total in NBA history, trailing only Wilt Chamberlain's 100 in 1962, but Kobe's performance is better for a few reasons.

1. 1962 was the highest scoring season in league history, with teams averaging more than 118 points per game. This year, all but five teams average less than 100.

2. Wilt Chamberlain was far and away the most dominant player of his era, a more athletic version of Shaquille O'Neal playing in a league that was almost devoid of seven footers.

3. Almost all of Kobe's twenty-eight made field goals came after he either received the ball on the wing or lugged it up court himself. I didn't see Wilt's game (Kareem is probably the only person alive who witnessed both Wilt's 100 and Kobe's 81 in person), but I feel safe in saying that the Dipper didn't have to tote the rock too much that night.

4. Double-teaming was not allowed in 1962, not even on the ball, and not even in the post. Kobe saw double- and triple-teams all night long, and the defense collapsed on him every time he penetrated.

5. The outcome of Wilt's game was never in doubt, but on Sunday night the Lakers actually trailed by 18 with less nine minutes to play in the third quarter. Kobe single-handedly snatched this victory from the jaws of the Raptors.

But was this game enough to sway the voters to send the hardware out to Los Angeles? Possibly. The Lakers will certainly have to make the playoffs, which is far from assured, and just squeaking in probably won't be good enough. Plus, there's still the matter of public opinion. This recent scoring barrage has done nothing to quiet the doubters who claim that he's a selfish player who shoots too much, but if Allen Iverson can overcome that, maybe Kobe can, too.

One thing's for sure, though. If I had a vote, I know where it would go.