THIS IS THE END

It’s easy to fall into the trap of repetitive behavior and there are certainly good and necessary patterns - the duplication of basketball fundamentals enables ingrained muscle memory as an example. Getting torched by pick-and-roll represents a less seemly side of Lakers tradition.  Beyond anything resembling actual X’s and O’s however, lies larger and widely discussed behavioral patterns - the most oft-repeated being the turning of a switch and the second being laziness (to use a over-simplification).

Repetitive behavior of course, is hardly limited to sports or any other specific actions - eating, laughter, war, discussions of weather and lazy literary devices such as self-indulgent inclusions of old-dog stories, are only the tip of a fast-melting iceberg. The day will come when there is no basketball to be played, a dying generation will survey the ruin of earth and look backwards, asking "why?"

More astute observers than I, are able to pinpoint basketball actions that led to Sunday afternoon’s defeat, or, a certain malaise in general. C.A.Clark at SS&R makes the point that Pau Gasol’s skill and grace do not equal willingness. Phillip Barnett at FB&G focuses closely on Chris Paul’s brilliant game. Andy Kamenetsky at the LOL examines the effect of Steve Blake’s absence on the second unit.  And, Lisa Dillman at the LAT looks at the X-factor of the Hornets’ undersized Cal Landry.

There was a wonderful on-court interview with Lamar Odom after the recent Spurs game, sweat was coming down in sheets and he spoke about pride and ego and the dangers of complacency.  Then came Sunday and he pulled another one of those on-court disappearing acts.  In truth, it’s not about any one Laker, apart from Kobe - he being possessed of a killer instinct that’s only betrayed these days by a deteriorating body. The real issue is whether the team comes together collectively, whether they can all take it on their shoulders.

I doubt there’s been a game this season that will be singularly remembered in future years. Nothing on the level of Fisher’s 0.4 rainbow or Kobe’s 81 points or the 4^th quarter rally against Portland in the 2000 western finals. There will however, be an erratic pattern and season on whole, that will be vividly remembered - this being Phil’s last.  If we somehow win another championship, the legacy will be of a maddingly inconsistent team that reached beyond the demands and ravages of so many long and challenging seasons.

Beware the talk of triangle mysteries, of adjustments and stats, of big men manning the paint.  Beware the analysts and experts - there’s only one true thing that’s gotten us here, time and again. The Switch.  Scoffed at, cursed and dismissed - it’s real.  It’s been riding shotgun for the past 10 years and we need to accept its presence now, we need to throw it because we’re in too deep.

How many times can you hurl your aging body against a door, how long will dead legs carry you?  The young lions are coming fast and furious, it’s their league now.  The real reason for an upcoming lockout? Corporate wants to kill off the old superstars.  Believe it. There’s younger, faster, cheaper models now.  Regardless of how long the old guard remains, they’re gone.  It’s the age of expressionless perfection. There’s one last stand though, and it’s now. Throw the switch, lever it into position and lock it - this is the path we’ve chosen. If we don’t win it all this time, it’ll be because we didn’t embrace the end.  Close with a song.

HONEY, WHERE'S THE SWITCH?

* The triple-post offense typically begins by creating a sideline triangle between center, corner/guard and wing/forward - a myriad of options with a premium on spacing and ball movement, creating opportunity for the open man.  And sometimes, the guys just jack it up from outside while Phil studies the wood grain beneath his throne. 

The Lakers lost to Denver, lost to the Jazz, lost to Golden State and then lost to Portland; a whacked-out game that saw them nearly shut out of the 3^rd quarter before blitzing back on a 12-point run. Didn’t matter, they lost another ugly game out of a batch of ugly games and it’s their third four-game skid of the season, this year’s model is screwier than Mr. Toad’s wild ride.

You can love the Lakers like you love mad-mood children, harder to pin down than quicksilver. They play as bad as bad can be, prompting articles about their imminent demise and then go on a destroy-all-monsters binge, hop-scotching from belligerent to finger-dimple-cute, ‘see, we’re playing now mister’, before daring you to see what’s on the other side of the island.

* The blind pig - an automatic move to relieve pressure on the guards, quickly abandoned when Kobe dribbles the ball for 14 seconds before bricking it from three feet beyond the three-point line, thus denying the Chameleon Swan, the opportunity to miss a point-blank shot.

Denver stopped all forward motion, whether the team admitted it or not - they were on a 17 and 1 tear toward catching the Spurs for top seed and it was the only thing on their minds. That notion was consigned to the scrap heap shortly thereafter.  Phil Jackson might have had another goal, home court advantage against the Bulls in a coming-together of biblical last-stand proportions. That’s now gone as well, Chicago’s six-game streak has guaranteed them HCA and how cruel a sendoff for a legendary lion if he were to be beaten where it all began?

* Arm-bar, flexing arm and holding in front of chest so that the forearm is parallel to the floor. Primarily a defensive tactic used in a variety of ways, most of them violent. Showcased to good effect by Ron Artest with the added biceps-kiss. Artest’s sweet science has been one of the few bright spots lately.

Basic wisdom would tell anyone with a rudimentary sense of roundball that the Lakers’ strength is in the inside-out game - pound it into a couple of 7-footers and add a serving of Kobe, healthy or not. Of course, that’s too simple - our zany group would rather run rampant down the hallways, trailing toilet paper and pulling fire alarms and if anyone’s looking for more salient analysis, feel free to click the links but reader beware - their knives are sharper than mine:

Elliott Teaford says the Lakers look lazy in defeat.
Mike Bresnahan calls them defenseless.
Dexter Fishmore calls it an offensive attack of profound ineptitude.
Brian Kamenetzky examines the lowlights.
Darius Soriano wonders if it's more a matter of fatigue.

I honestly don’t know what to make of this team anymore, they’re champions with a coach who’s won more than anyone and when they fall apart it’s called a lack of effort rather than a lack of potential and it makes it all the more frustrating - this is all or nothing time, a couple more games and then it's into the post-season but the malaise will go away, right?  They always revert to form and sweep us off our feet in incandescent fashion - an unstoppable machine and the national sportscasters aren’t always there for the lows, they catch the marquis performances and our stars are usually dialed in at that point, someone in the wings having been at the switch until it finally fires up and it’s lights, camera, action, and the accolades flow like a snake-oil salesman.  Only problem and I hate to repeat, but there’s been three four-game skids now and we’re all just rolling the dice that it doesn’t happen in a seven-game series because then we’re done, it’s over, there’s nothing here to see, folks. Curtain down.

THE DISTRACTIONS

From a beautiful free flow against Oklahoma to a brief road trip somewhere over the time line, an effort’s being made to stay with it, whatever it is, the lives of people involved in some convergent story, albeit with blank spaces and distant voices.  The Lakers resolutely play in sections now, a quarter of brilliance followed by a quarter of distraction. Coach Jackson digs into timeouts more than ever before, barking in faces and drawing recalcitrant responses, attention flickering to the stands.  The second half breaks down and we get carpet-bombed in Dallas.

How to define a season once earmarked for greatness?  Fisher often talks about the difficulty of maintaining a focus - grown children, staring out the window as the teacher drones on, wondering what’s out there. The distractions.  A championship can still be won of course - all it takes is flipping the switch, 4 out of 7 times. Except that it’s all these sections now, 28 and maybe more and the switch becomes looser from time and misuse, prone to shorts.  Do we turn it now coach?  Do we turn it now, Kobe?  He stares a death stare and pulls and prods and curses.  He’s not the distracted one.

Continuing on to the mile-high city, a team with their own attention disorders.  The ‘Melo trade talks have dragged on, well past the point of being epic.  Still, a dangerous team, especially on their home turf.  The last time I made a prediction about the Nuggets it went all wrong.  We’ve dropped our last four games there; the ink brigade’s got injury problems but they’ve still got emotion and they use it often, baiting opponents into playing their running game and we always seem to leave their shooters wide open, parked somewhere on the outskirts and happy to bomb away.

The question was who or what would show up, it could have been another game with brilliant sections or one where the distractions reared with baleful glare.  Luckily it was neither, the team gnawed their way though a solid, workmanlike four quarters; going inside often; working until the plan fell into place, rewards coming with the occasional outside shot and then back to plan.  More specifically, Artest went to work early, scoring 3 baskets inside and following up with a corner three.  Kobe facilitated the first half, came out swinging in the second - 14 of his 19 points came in the 3rd quarter.  Pau was inspired on the offensive glass and Andrew Bynum had one of his best games yet this season, putting his big boy pants on as he went chest-to-chest with Nene. Maybe Uncle Theo’s been imparting some of that manhood knowledge.  By the time all was said and done, five players would be in double figures and all within two points of each other.

The team has a few days rest now, their next game’s at home on Tuesday against the struggling Jazz. The train may continue on track, it may momentarily derail. It’s anybody’s guess now, whether blue skies beyond the window or the season of the witch. I’m feeling good after last night’s win though. Years ago, somebody spoke to me about looking in through the window at that which seems so subjective up close. Blocking out sounds and distractions can reveal the simplest of truths and that lesson has always stayed with me. Phil Jackson has won 11 championships in 19 seasons as a head coach. He says this 20^th season will be his last. Ergo, he’s gonna be a tough old coot to beat.

On a sidenote, tonight marks the 5^th anniversary of Kobe’s historic 81-point night. Andy Kamenetzky at the Land O’Lakers remembers it in glorious detail. Give it a read.