I found myself wondering if Kobe was watching. I sure hoped he was, as he had subjected me to a miserable couple of days during which he thought to air his demands. Said demands might be summarized thusly:
Trade me. I want to be a Laker. Trade me. I want to be a Laker. Trade me. I want to be a Laker for life.
Lindsay Lohan, recently arrested on suspicion of drunk driving, made more sense when she cracked up her convertible on Sunset.
Last month, on the eve of the Cavaliers engagement with the Nets, Richard Jefferson was asked to assess the degree of difficulty in trying to guard James. The key, said Jefferson, was "he gets his teammates involved...It's not just the LeBron show. He's not a Kobe Bryant where he's just going to go out there and score at all costs."
Great players are supposed to endow the players around them with greatness. Kobe Bryant does not. While James is about winning, Kobe is about Kobe.
In relation to his teammates, Bryant inhabits a parallel universe, separate and unequal. Perhaps you recall former Laker Chucky Atkins remarking with some frustration, "Kobe's the GM of this team." I'll not forget the way he showed up his teammate, Luke Walton, who had the temerity to pass the ball back to him during an overtime loss to the Knicks. And while there's some fantastic revisionism emanating from the Lakers' high command, you may remember that even his own coach couldn't stand him.
You think anything has really changed?
Kobe Bryant doesn't instill confidence in the guys in the locker room. He communicates by text message.
