Thoughts and Reflections on Mamba

There was a time when movies had Hollywood endings, climaxes that sympathized with our emotions, our notions of what should happen, and conflicts that converged to the proper place. This was a time that made for storybook endings, when Michael Jordan battled through a flu and hit a game winner, or, when Kirk Gibson hit that walk-off home run in the 1988 world series. The Miracle on Ice symbolized the victory of democracy and freedom over socialism. Pete Sampras battled exhaustion, dehydration – and tears upon learning of Tim Gullickson's terminal cancer– and emerged victorious each time. To the sports fan, it seemed as if higher powers were behind the story line, lining up behind the stars.

And then, came the advent of post-modernism and the decay of meaning. Pulp Fiction signaled its humble beginnings. Why, we asked, why did stories need to have happy endings? Why does the good guy have to win? Why do scripts have to make sense? Without a higher power, a transcendent impetus, an angel on the subway, anything is possible. A recent movie, No Country for Old Men, underscores a worldview predicated on randomness and chance. And that, indeed, is the thrust of today's avant garde.

Such a post-modern script would have Michael Jordan battling through the flu and willing the Bulls to an incredible victory in Game 5 .. and then dropping two straight to a Jazz team that is invigorated, rather than overwhelmed, by His Airness. Such a script would have the USA amateur / collegiate hockey team resurrecting King David's memory and defeating the Soviet Union .. and then losing to Finland in the Gold Medal match. Such a script would have Kirk Gibson hit that walk-off home run in the 1988 World Series off two knees that had no ligaments remaining .. and then the Dodgers losing instead of winning in 5 games. Such a script would have Pete Sampras crying during the 1995 Australian Open, crying tears for his long time friend, drawing upon a deeper source of strength .. and then losing to Jim Courier.

But fortunately, the post-modern era was not alive back then, and our sports icons remain enshrined, rightfully so, in immortality, having found rest in those long corridors and hallways of our memories, neatly wrapped and never to be questioned again.

We live in a different world now, and not only in Hollywood. It seems as though the world of sports has caught on. Nowhere is it more evident than with Kobe Bryant, a career with the perfect storyline, and the meaningless ending.

It started in the 2002-2003 playoffs, when the Lakers were battling the Spurs in the 2^nd round, in a pivotal game 5 in San Antonio. Down two with time winding down, Kobe Bryant – the same Kobe Bryant that was maligned for not trusting his teammates enough – drove baseline and was double teamed. This time, Kobe Bryant made the right basketball play, and fed Robert Horry – Mr. Big Shot with countless clutch baskets – for an open three. This was the first year that Kobe Bryant would have won Finals MVP. Waiting in the East were the terrible New Jersey Nets. Win this game, and the deflated Spurs would head to LA, dejected. Kobe Bryant would have his Jordanesque, trust-your-teammate-moment, a la John Paxson and Steve Kerr. And Robert Horry, ice in his veins, was wide open in his pet-spot.

But Horry missed, and the Spurs would go on to win the championship. 3 years later, Horry would hit the exact same shot off a Manu Ginobli pass (Ginobli made the mistake of double teaming Kobe in the 2002 shot) to win game 5 for the Spurs, on the road in Detroit in the Finals, in one of the lowest rated Finals ever. Perfect storyline, meaningless ending.

It continued the following year, when Derek Fisher hit the shot of his life with 0.4 seconds left to practically dispatch the Spurs. Kobe Bryant had spent the year battling rape allegations, and had confessed publicly to the media and privately to God and his wife of the sin of adultery. Men marveled at his ability to excel under trying circumstances. This time, the storyline was richer – Gary Payton and Karl Malone, two ringless Hall of Famers – were on the team that was primed to win another championship – Phil Jackson's 10th, which would break Red Auerbach's all-time mark. Malone had limited Duncan, and then Garnett, and they were in the Finals, facing a Detroit team that had little championship experience. And Kobe Bryant hit the shot of his life in Game 2 – a three pointer under pressure to rescue his team from a 0-2 deficit. It was every bit a fabulous, career defining, shot, as there have been in history. As Hollywood scripts go, you couldn't write it any better.

But Malone suffered a career ending knee injury, and Derek Fisher suffered a debilitating foot injury, and the Lakers ended up losing all 3 games in Detroit. Perfect storyline, meaningless ending.

Two years later, Kobe Bryant would hit the equivalent of Michael Jordan's shot over Craig Ehlo that had eliminated the Cleveland Cavaliers in 1988. Except this time, Kobe did it against a vastly superior Phoenix Suns squad, in Game 4 of the 1^stround, to cap off a magnificent year in which he averaged 35.4 points. This was a squad that started Smush Parker and Kwame Brown at PG and C – two players that couldn't even make the Miami Heat and Memphis Grizzlies squads, respectively, two years later. It would have ranked as one of the biggest upsets in NBA history.

But unlike Michael Jordan's days, 1^st round series are now best of 7, giving much more opportunity for the superior team to win. So the series went on.

In game 6, Kobe Bryant hit perhaps the biggest shot of the season, a step-back 3-pointer to put the Lakers up by 1 late in the game – their first lead since the 2^ndquarter. An unbiased breakdown of the play would show that it was one of the most incredible displays of skill and mental toughness I have ever seen. Kobe Bryant would hit another layup the following possesion to extend the lead to 3, and the Suns were ready to go home. I told everyone, “It's Hollywood, baby!”

But, Lamar Odom failed to secure a rebound, and Kwame Brown was faked on a close-out, and Tim Thomas – the same Tim Thomas who had cracked Kobe Bryant in the head to win game 1 – hit a tying 3-pointer, and the Suns would go on to win the series. Perfect storyline, meaningless ending.

The latest episode occurred in round 1 of the 2008 playoffs, with the Lakers having an excellent opportunity to beat the Utah Jazz on the road. Hollywood could not have scripted it any better:

Kobe Bryant, the prodigal, has returned home. The once arrogant and cocky teenager, humbled by life, lost on the far side of the sea, has found his redemption. The same family, once torn by adultery, has stuck together for 9 years and counting, an absolute rarity in today's society. His teammates swear by his change – and commentators and former players call him the best teammate in the league. Generally acknowledged by everyone, from Lebron to Shaq, Magic to Bird, Popovich to Barkley - as the best player for the past 5 years, he finally gets his first MVP award, and shares the moment with his teammates and family. The same young man who used to robotically emulate Jordan during interviews would now genuinely smile, crack jokes, and humbly blush and ridicule any attempt to compare him to the game's greats.

10 years ago, he had completely embarassed the Laker franchise in Utah, shooting airball after airball. Now was the perfect chance to exorcise those demons, and Game 4 was the game.

But Kobe Bryant would suffer through a back injury 90 seconds into the game. Anyone who has had any of those knows you just don't fight through a back injury.

From the OC Register: "Utah coach Jerry Sloan also alluded to how Michael Jordan has done in the Jazz in the past despite appearing physically unable. “I've been in it a couple times and usually come up short,” Sloan said. “But our guys were fighting really hard.” Jerry Sloan sees the connection, but has apparently missed the memo here - we aren't living in the bygone era anymore.

A back injury is a completely different animal. It isn't a flu that can be conquered by effort. The harder you try, the more you move, the more it hurts and stiffens up. Ankle injuries, even knee injuries, can be temporarily compensated, but a back injury fundamentally affects an athlete's core. It was too painful to watch him kneeling on the floor, unable to get up. A back injury at such a critical juncture? It just didn't make any sense. It's the equivalent of James Bond being killed by a stray bullet. Of Superman accidentally overdosing on kryptonite. Herein lies the stratosphere that will always separate Michael Jordan from Kobe Bryant.

And, while no one in their right mind is placing Kobe Bryant up there with the legends - Michael Jordan, Pete Sampras - (he's still in his 20's and Jordan played in his 40's), it would seem that, so far, the magic of the classic times has eluded him. His legacy will be with the overachievers, the two-a-days, the 6AM summer workouts, the perfectors of the craft, the behind the scenes, but not the crown.

Given the storyline, it just doesn't make any sense. Why?

Maybe there isn't a why. Maybe Hollywood's avant garde got it right finally, and the rest of the world is finally catching up.

posted by Thoughts and Reflections on Mamba  # 12:17 PM