LOS ANGELES -- Kobe Bryant played Tuesday and, most notably, he did so for the Lakers.
He wasn't a Bull, even as so much surrounding the flaky Laker these days seems to be just that, bull.
The rumors, the suggestions, the read-between-the-lines logic. All put aside for the strangest of reasons, for the sake of a basketball game, believe it or not.
But an interesting thing happened during Bryant's welcome-back embrace. The warmth was interrupted by a shivering sensation, ice cubes falling like confetti from the Staple Center seats.
Boos.
No kidding. Genuine, 100-percent-pure boos. Some of the home team's fans actually jeered the home team's star. Not a lot of them, mind you, but not just a couple of them, either.
First during pregame introductions, then each of the first few times Bryant touched the ball. Boos. Suddenly, this place was Sacramento, minus the cowbells.
Understand, Staples Center never reacted this way during Kobe Bryant v. Eagle, Colo. He has been booed here before for spotty play but never for shoddy behavior. Kobe going one-on-one against Shaq didn't produce this sort of arena noise.
Interestingly, when it came time to select a player to address the crowd, to thank the fans before the start of another season as is NBA custom, the Lakers handed the microphone Tuesday to Derek Fisher.
So after a summer during which Bryant said and un-said pretty much everything and a training camp in which Jerry Buss basically said one thing, the fans finally had a chance to speak.
Here were the Laker lovers, the worshippers of all things purple and gold, the people who really know Jack, summoning venom for one of their own, the most beloved of their own even.
This was a breakthrough for the present sporting era in L.A., an East Coast moment in the most West Coast of venues.
On opening night, with the franchise celebrating its 60th season, with a few of the usual stars aligned courtside, the on-court star indeed was maligned, if only by a vocal minority.
Then Bryant scored on a layup and on a jumper. Then he passed to Ronny Turiaf for a dunk and to Kwame Brown for another dunk. Then he stole a pass and hustled his entire body into the front row.
Before Bryant's 13-point first quarter was half-over, he stood at the line, shooting free throws, beneath the faint but distinguishable chant of "M-V-P."
This is only a rough estimate, but the revolution lasted fewer than six minutes. By the time Bryant was dripping his first sweat of the regular season, he had melted the grandstand discontent.
You can exhale, Kobe fans, the 2007-08 season began and your man is still theman among the Lakers. Bryant officially rejoined his old team, though his departure had been in mind only.
During the weekend, coach Phil Jackson expressed concerns about Bryant exchanging his game face for a lame face. The prevailing thought has been Bryant is playing with one eye on the floor and the other on the door.
Jackson said before the game that Fisher would take on more responsibility in pushing the offense because of "the turnover factor," referring to Bryant's slippery preseason. Fisher's increased role would "stabilize" the Lakers, Jackson said.
These aren't exactly the kinds of words usually associated with one the game's best players. But that's where Bryant was when this season arrived.
He promised more once the real games started and backed up his words. Even with his right wrist bothering him, Bryant scored 45 points and played hard enough to be awarded 27 free-throw tries, a career-high.
In one signature fourth-quarter moment, he lost the ball to Houston's Bonzi Wells, then sprinted back defensively to deny Wells an easy basket. In another, with the Lakers crawling back in the final 30 seconds, Bryant drove for a left-handed layup to cut the deficit to two.
Perhaps he doesn't want to play here, perhaps he won't be here much longer, no doubt Bryant's judgment can be questioned. His effort, though, remains genuine.
Just like this team's issues.
In the end, this was another typical night in the lives of the recent Lakers. Bryant shot the ball a bunch (32 attempts) but didn't hit was a great amount of accuracy (41 percent), while his teammates (minus the injured Lamar Odom) failed to add enough.
When it mattered most, a better team from the Western Conference refused to wilt and the home team didn't win. Rockets 95, Lakers 93.
A fresh season, a familiar result.
The soap opera paused for a basketball game, and the Lakers were revealed to be what they still are. Not good enough, Bryant or not.
When everything was added up late Tuesday night – the interesting start, the Lakers' midgame lull, their frantic final-second comeback — it didn't amount to boo.
He wasn't a Bull, even as so much surrounding the flaky Laker these days seems to be just that, bull.
The rumors, the suggestions, the read-between-the-lines logic. All put aside for the strangest of reasons, for the sake of a basketball game, believe it or not.
But an interesting thing happened during Bryant's welcome-back embrace. The warmth was interrupted by a shivering sensation, ice cubes falling like confetti from the Staple Center seats.
Boos.
No kidding. Genuine, 100-percent-pure boos. Some of the home team's fans actually jeered the home team's star. Not a lot of them, mind you, but not just a couple of them, either.
First during pregame introductions, then each of the first few times Bryant touched the ball. Boos. Suddenly, this place was Sacramento, minus the cowbells.
Understand, Staples Center never reacted this way during Kobe Bryant v. Eagle, Colo. He has been booed here before for spotty play but never for shoddy behavior. Kobe going one-on-one against Shaq didn't produce this sort of arena noise.
Interestingly, when it came time to select a player to address the crowd, to thank the fans before the start of another season as is NBA custom, the Lakers handed the microphone Tuesday to Derek Fisher.
So after a summer during which Bryant said and un-said pretty much everything and a training camp in which Jerry Buss basically said one thing, the fans finally had a chance to speak.
Here were the Laker lovers, the worshippers of all things purple and gold, the people who really know Jack, summoning venom for one of their own, the most beloved of their own even.
This was a breakthrough for the present sporting era in L.A., an East Coast moment in the most West Coast of venues.
On opening night, with the franchise celebrating its 60th season, with a few of the usual stars aligned courtside, the on-court star indeed was maligned, if only by a vocal minority.
Then Bryant scored on a layup and on a jumper. Then he passed to Ronny Turiaf for a dunk and to Kwame Brown for another dunk. Then he stole a pass and hustled his entire body into the front row.
Before Bryant's 13-point first quarter was half-over, he stood at the line, shooting free throws, beneath the faint but distinguishable chant of "M-V-P."
This is only a rough estimate, but the revolution lasted fewer than six minutes. By the time Bryant was dripping his first sweat of the regular season, he had melted the grandstand discontent.
You can exhale, Kobe fans, the 2007-08 season began and your man is still theman among the Lakers. Bryant officially rejoined his old team, though his departure had been in mind only.
During the weekend, coach Phil Jackson expressed concerns about Bryant exchanging his game face for a lame face. The prevailing thought has been Bryant is playing with one eye on the floor and the other on the door.
Jackson said before the game that Fisher would take on more responsibility in pushing the offense because of "the turnover factor," referring to Bryant's slippery preseason. Fisher's increased role would "stabilize" the Lakers, Jackson said.
These aren't exactly the kinds of words usually associated with one the game's best players. But that's where Bryant was when this season arrived.
He promised more once the real games started and backed up his words. Even with his right wrist bothering him, Bryant scored 45 points and played hard enough to be awarded 27 free-throw tries, a career-high.
In one signature fourth-quarter moment, he lost the ball to Houston's Bonzi Wells, then sprinted back defensively to deny Wells an easy basket. In another, with the Lakers crawling back in the final 30 seconds, Bryant drove for a left-handed layup to cut the deficit to two.
Perhaps he doesn't want to play here, perhaps he won't be here much longer, no doubt Bryant's judgment can be questioned. His effort, though, remains genuine.
Just like this team's issues.
In the end, this was another typical night in the lives of the recent Lakers. Bryant shot the ball a bunch (32 attempts) but didn't hit was a great amount of accuracy (41 percent), while his teammates (minus the injured Lamar Odom) failed to add enough.
When it mattered most, a better team from the Western Conference refused to wilt and the home team didn't win. Rockets 95, Lakers 93.
A fresh season, a familiar result.
The soap opera paused for a basketball game, and the Lakers were revealed to be what they still are. Not good enough, Bryant or not.
When everything was added up late Tuesday night – the interesting start, the Lakers' midgame lull, their frantic final-second comeback — it didn't amount to boo.
by Jeff Miller
OCRegister
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