IT WENT BY SO FAST YOU MIGHT HAVE missed it. I’m referring to the Lakers being blown out by Phoenix in the first round of the NBA playoffs. To say it was grim is giving it spin. To quote Marlon Brando, “Oh, the horror, the horror.” I decided I’m going to write one column on the subject and be done with it. I only hope I won’t need to write the same one next year.
Concerned, my friends point out if the Lakers win or lose, the world still goes on. Duh! I’m not that happy with the world either. Somehow my mood reminds me of a scene from “Annie Hall.” Ten-year-old Alvy is at the psychiatrist because he’s chronically depressed. “The universe is expanding,” he complains, “and one day it’ll all explode, so what’s the point?” His mother yells back, “This is Brooklyn, not the universe!”
Today, professional sports teams are billion dollar businesses. To root for a team is like rooting for CitiCorp. But I can’t help myself. I suppose it’s holding on to my youth. As teenagers, my friends and I would take the bus or hitchhike to the Sports Arena to watch the Lakers. This was before gangs and drive-bys. A decade earlier, Joe DiMaggio retired from baseball. DiMaggio had a quiet elegance. Today, we have Barry Bonds, remarkably talented, but hardly quiet or elegant.
For pointless trivia buffs, the Laker franchise began as the Detroit Gems, owned by C. King Boring. (His actual last name!) The team played only one season, posting a 4-40 record. This year wasn’t quite that bad, though the playoffs felt like it. It wasn’t just that the Lakers lost, it’s that they didn’t put up a fight. The Laker play-off run was over in a blink of an eye. The best that could be said, it was merciful. The patient didn’t suffer, even if some fans did.
The only person I know over the age of 10 who took losing harder than I did was Kobe Bryant. Violating “What happens in the locker room stays in the locker room,” (or is that Las Vegas?) Kobe went public that he wants Laker management to put together a better team next year. Amen. Can I get a witness? (Better yet, can I get Kevin Garnett?) Two years in a row, Kobe has led the league in scoring and has been on the All-Defensive team seven times. But his genius is wasted. It’s like Baryshnikov on “Dancing with the Stars,” or Olivier doing a Burger King commercial.
But many fans still blame Kobe for running Shaq out of town. The truth is Jerry Buss didn’t want to gamble $30 million a year that Shaq would stay healthy. He was right. And yet, if Buss hadn’t been so cheap with Jerry West he might have stayed and convinced Shaq and Kobe to shelve their egos in favor of basketball history. To be fair, Buss has brought us more than our share of NBA titles. But, while Kobe’s the best player in the league, he’s 29 and the meter is running. The time is now, Dr. Buss, so do me, and the city of Los Angeles, a huge favor — forget the salary cap!
The cap actually was an ingenious invention, designed to protect owners from their own greed. No one put a gun to their heads to pay players those ridiculous salaries, but they couldn’t help themselves. The cap was now something they could hide behind. It’s like Bush saying we don’t have any money for social programs because we’re broke. He forgets to mention he’s the one who got us there.
The salary cap didn’t stop George Steinbrenner from signing Roger Clemens to an $18 million contract to pitch for only four months. (That’s $150,000 a day or $7,500 a pitch.) It’s an insane amount of money, but if you’re a Yankee fan, and I’m not, you’ve got to be thrilled. Steinbrenner obviously cares more about winning than paying the luxury tax. It’s time for Jerry Buss to step up to the plate and bring his wallet with him. (And no, I don’t think he should bring back Kareem, although even at 60 he might have been an improvement.) I can’t tell yet if writing this has been cathartic or not. Maybe little Alvy was right? If the universe is expanding and one day everything will blow up, what’s the point? Until then I’d like to see a Laker team that gets past the first round.
Originally published in the Santa Monica Daily Press print edition on May 11, 2007. Read the original PDF.