The Passing of An Age

(Bonus points awarded to those nerds who get the reference in the title of this post)

Well, shall we say...a different way to end the season.

Face. Palm.

Altogether, I was and remain surprisingly reserved in reaction to the Lakers' unceremonious exit at the hands of the Dallas Mavericks. I was startled by Game 1's collapse. Disgruntled by the lack of execution late in Game 2. By the fourth quarter of Game 3, however, as others have far more eloquently pointed out, I realized the signs had been lurking all season and accepted our fate. This current Laker team went as far as it was going to go. The Mavericks, bolstered by their fabulous ball movement (you don't get that many open looks without passing well), shrewd interior defense, and the consistent brilliance of one seven-foot German, deserved to win. They were, by leaps and bounds, the superior team. I applaud them, congratulate them, and will heartily root against them in the next round.

It's an interesting time. 

I and my fellow fans, blessed as they come, have not experienced such an early playoff exit in a while. You would have to rewind all the way back to 2003 to find another Laker team with championship aspirations failing to reach the Finals. Yet that brand of sustained excellence, perhaps equaled only by the Yankees in all of sports, acts as fuel to the hysterical fire. There's a reason why Lakers supporters are the most hated in basketball. Losing is not accepted well here in Los Angeles. Minutes after the final loss—hell, during the final loss—"fans" clamored for change. Pau Gasol? Get rid of him. Phil Jackson? Utterly overrated. Kobe's legacy? Forever tarnished. The entire team? Blow it up. (Hey Magic, chill out.) To quote someone I follow on Twitter, "There isn't a single fanbase that overreacts to everything as much as Lakers fans."

I observed the mass panic with a certain sense of detached amusement and shame. Of course I was upset. I shared in the pain. But it's genuinely baffling to me that the majority of fans can be so short-sighted. Nothing lasts forever, you dolts. We lost. Thankfully it doesn't happen often, but we lost. There's always next year. (Man, it feels weird saying that.) It's not like the Lakers won't re-tool. They will be back in the hunt soon enough, perhaps refreshed and re-focused after a badly needed long summer off. In the meantime, take a step back, reflect on the level of success our team has achieved in our lifetimes, and revel in the fact that such consistency is the envy of millions. Your passion is great. Use it in a positive manner. Except when discussing Shannon Brown.

Again, it's an interesting time. 

This loss just feels so final. Our longtime coach, the greatest in history, is not coming back. The Mavericks exposed serious flaws in the current roster and tweaks, if not an outright overhaul, need to happen. And Kobe, for all his bravado, is showing serious signs that he's finally slowing down.

There are more subtle signs beneath the surface. Getting not just beat, but swept. Watching your seasoned, veteran team self-destruct in as classless a manner as possible. Hearing words like "trust," "bond," and "team fabric" used negatively during interviews. Tabloid-worthy rumors of extracurricular WAG activity affecting chemistry between the two best players. I pause to speculate (SO trying my hardest to be that "rational" fan), but has this team reached its breaking point? Four-plus years of an aging core, constant scrutiny, and immense expectations proved too much to overcome this season. It may prove too much to overcome, period.

The NBA landscape, as we know it, is about to change. Old stalwarts like San Antonio and Boston (and of course, the Lakers) are on their last legs. Young upstarts in the Bulls, Thunder, and Grizzlies look like the real deal. Who knows what this lockout and subsequent collective bargaining agreement will bring.

I hope, I pray the Lakers will find a way to stay on top. (Oh, Dwiiiiiiiiiiiight?) I hope Brian Shaw or whoever the new coach is can provide a smooth transition. I hope Pau ignores the doubters and regains his confidence (as well as his fiance). I hope Kobe will gracefully accept his slow decline and morph into a more efficient role. I hope we find a point guard who can stay in front of JJ Freaking Barea. As a fan, I don't know if any of these things will happen. All I can do is hope.

What I do know is that the league, flooded with young talent and more popular than ever, is entering a new golden age* and I will cheer my darnedest for my team during it. But I will also marvel at how Chris Paul keeps his dribble alive. I will fear Tony Allen's defensive ferocity. I will laugh at Kevin Durant's skinny arms and then wonder how he sinks effortless jumper after effortless jumper. I may even find it in my heart to appreciate Lebron James.

I will, and will always, love the game of basketball. I will, and will always, love the Los Angeles Lakers. Getting to win championships is just the cherry on top. If you're a Lakers fan, remember that. If you're not, well, uh, be jealous that we have to remember that. Yeah.

Cherish the ride we had. Look forward to the one ahead.


Oh, and Phil? Thank you. You were one-of-a-kind.

The good ol' days.

*Of course this all depends on the new CBA, whether owners like the Maloofs will still be allowed to operate, if we can curb overly enthusiastic refs from dominating games, international goaltending rules not being instituted, yadda yadda yadda. Sigh. Remind me why I love sports again?

Here We Stay

I am a proud, unabashed, (overly)passionate fan of the Los Angeles Lakers.

I got made fun of in college due to said obsession. Around my pick-up basketball circle, I am known as the guy "who has all the Kobe shoes." My mom hates all sports, because she thinks I waste too much of my life following the Lakers.

Last night, the team played its last 2010-2011 regular season game on the road against the Sacramento Kings. They needed a victory in order to secure a number-two seed in the Western Conference playoffs and avoid a tough first round opponent in the Portland Trail Blazers. I saw the game as an absolute must-win, since it would place the Lakers against a much-less formidable New Orleans Hornets squad.

You da man, Doug!

Complicating matters was the fact that the Kings were playing possibly their final game in the city of Sacramento. Not too long ago, they were an extremely entertaining, run-and-gun title contender who pushed the Lakers to the limit during their last three-peat run. I hated them. Chris Webber was soft. I couldn't tell whether Mike Bibby was white or black. Hedo Turkoglu was/still is the ugliest thing I've ever seen.  Vlade Divac didn't play real basketball. Doug Christie was a comically whipped husband.

Most of all, I hated their fans. Loathed. Detested. Abhorred. I derided them as northern California hicks who had nothing better to do in their barren town than obsess over a terribly annoying basketball team. (Yes, I realize the irony of this sentiment given my opening paragraphs.) Those fans, who brought it each and every game, cheering on their fabulous team with those dreadful cowbells and unhinged enthusiasm.

That's why I can't help but feel mixed emotions as I think back on last night's contest. I knew in my heart of hearts, above all else, I wanted a Lakers victory. As the Lakers went up 20 points in the second half, I cared not one iota that my team was on its way to giving Sacramento a crushing farewell. Once the Kings started their improbable comeback, I was in a furious state and close to breaking things. I didn't even celebrate when Kobe hit his tying three at the end of regulation, still bitter that the game was even close at all. I almost wanted the Lakers to lose in the end, thinking they deserved a harsh wake-up call in the Trail Blazers after such a depressing run to end the season.

Through all these thoughts, however, I could not help but feel those fans again. That hate, a presence long dormant, bubbled up once more. What those devoted 17,000 achieved last night, before, during, and after the game, was nothing short of incredible. They epitomized everything fans are supposed to do: will their team to something higher. And despite the loss, considering the circumstances, the Kings did their faithful proud. What a moment.

I won't pretend to know all the details surrounding the Maloof brothers' decision to move the Kings to Anaheim. Business, however bumbling or misguided, is business. I get it. I do know, however, that Sacramento is a top-20 TV market. I do know that the Kings are top five all-time in consecutive sellouts. I do know they have a proud, unabashed, (overly)passionate fanbase.

I do know that if the Lakers ever left Los Angeles, I would fall into a near-clinical depression. That is not an exaggeration.

That's the toughest part for me regarding this whole mess. For sports fans, the teams we love become part of our personal identity. To rip them away is to lose part of yourself forever. No, that's not as foolish as it sounds. What if you took instruments away from a musician and told him he/she could only listen to others play? Brushes away from an artist? Keyboards from bloggers? Stupidity away from Glenn Beck? It leaveS behind such an aching, lasting pain. That passion for whatever (basketball, music, art, etc.) you were originally invested in may come back eventually but will never feel whole again.

I imagine many Kings fans are, or will be, experiencing such misery. And today, as I watched and read about last night's events, I say with absolute, utter sincerity that I feel for them. That hate is totally gone.

So whatever happens in the coming months, at least for these next two days as the Lakers rest up for the playoffs, in between worrying about Andrew Bynum's knee, fearing the implications of Kobe Bryant not having chicken pox as a child, and lamenting why Shannon Brown is still an "important" contributor, I am proud to say I am a Sacramento Kings fan. We all are.


Anyone know where I can buy a cowbell?