There was a part of you that knew that it was going to catch up to Kobe Bryant sooner or later. You saw the way he kept piling up minutes, night after night, grinding through the grim mission of trying to keep the Lakers’ season alive for the extra few games they would get in the playoffs against the Spurs or the Thunder.
Across six games, these were his minutes heading into Friday night: 47:37; 47:04; 42:32; 47:20; 41:06; 48:00. A total of 13 minutes and 33 seconds of rest, the Lakers winning five of those six games, Bryant playing despite having banged up his knee and his ankle in recent weeks, injuries that leave most players in civvies for a month.
And Friday, another critical game for the Lakers, he plated every single second. Down six, he made a 3. Then he made another 3. Then he went up for a shot, fell, was fouled … and made both free throws, of course. In that moment, only Kobe probably knew the truth for sure, that he had ruined his Achilles, that he had scored his final points of the season, that a cruel, grueling rehab lay ahead.
In some ways, yes: It was a brutal twist of fate. The game is better when Kobe is playing, when the Lakers are alive, when he tries to figure out better and different ways to torment opponents and electrify Staples Center.
Or you could look at it this way:
For all Kobe has accomplished — and since he forever will reside inside most people’s all-time Top 10 lists, if not the Top 5, that already is a lot — for all five titles, for all the points he has scored, all the glory he has assembled … maybe it’s right that we remember that last image of the 2012-13 season.
Kobe crumpled. Kobe flattened. Kobe beaten down.
Kobe saying, “[Bleep] it.” And making his shots.
A few weeks ago, J.R. Smith, marveling at how Knicks teammate Kurt Thomas played through a broken foot in Utah, had said: “They don’t make that breed anymore.”
Same applies for Kobe. We are forever wistful about our iconic stars in sports today, about their cool detachment, about how pampered they are, how privileged. They get to live inside life’s velvet rope and take full advantage, cutting corners and cruising whenever possible and letting talent take them wherever they need to go.
Always, though, there was Kobe offering a loud, and prominent, dissidence to that. There was Kobe and his pre-dawn workouts, his ludicrous work ethic, his borderline lunatic competitiveness. This didn’t always manifest itself perfectly, didn’t always cover him in glory. But he didn’t care. His drive was relentless, and it was public: the way he would dress down his teammates (and himself). The night in Miami last year when, displeased by his performance against the Heat, he went back onto the court for a full-length (and full bore) postgame workout.
And Friday night. What have the Lakers been playing for, anyway, but the right to be road kill for a few nights in the playoffs?
Kobe knew that, deep down. He sees how flawed the team is. He has five rings. He was going to kill himself just to get, maybe, five games against OKC or San Antonio?
Yes. He was going to kill himself. He was going to push himself, and drive himself, and refuse to let coach Mike D’Antoni take him out of games even if D’Antoni were inclined to do so. He was going to drag the Lakers into the playoffs. And, by God, he would torture the Thunder or the Spurs a little bit before being ushered aside.
And then he was on the ground. And then he was gone. He had better be back. We won’t see his breed anytime soon, either. It would be good to see it a few more times before it goes away forever.
Whack Back at Vac
Richard Siegelman: Kenyon Martin’s injury will hurt the Knicks but, luckily, his nickname makes his replacement a logical no-brainer. K-Mart’s minutes should be given to a high-scoring retired Knick with the real name of Kenny Sears.
Vac: Whew. For a second there I was afraid you were going to tell me Anthony Mason was the one behind the endless W.B. Mason commercials.
Martin Berliner: Re: the Michigan fight song I think it’s: “Hail to the victors valiant …” and not “gallant.”
Vac: And now you know why a) Michigan “lost” my application and b) my fight song begins, “Unfurl the brown and white, into the breeze …” Valiantly, no doubt.
@sambolet: Though I’m not a fan of Mike Woodson’s coaching, offering Kurt Thomas a coaching position (if he desires) was a nice gesture.
@MikeVacc: Every now and again you need a reminder that business is business. The Knicks have handled a very tough situation as well as it can be handled.
Charles Legoff: What’s the deal with Spike Lee running on court to have his picture taken with the ’73 Knicks? if I did that — or any other long-time season ticket holder for that matter — we would’ve been thrown out of the building.
Vac: The looks on the Knicks’ faces were priceless and it was unmistakable — and rightly so: “What the hell is he doing here?” Spike’s a great fan who takes it way too far way too often.
Vac’s Whacks
I’m pretty sure even the angriest Mets fans had to have gotten a little sick to their stomachs the other day when Jose Reyes started that slide late in Kansas City, the ankle started pointing toward Shawnee Mission, and he let out that blood-curdling scream.
* In honor of new Hall of Famer Jerry Tarkanian, the Masters should have taken Tiger Woods’ two penalty strokes and given them to Cleveland State.
* So the college football trophy hasn’t left the state of Ala-bama in four years. The basketball plaque hasn’t left Kentucky in two years, and with the class Coach Cal has assembled in Lexington, we might as well write it down in pen for three. And people think New Yorkers are self-centered?
* They showed a few snippets on MSG the other night of the restored Game 5 of the ’73 Finals that will be shown in its entirety tonight after the Knicks-Pacers game and all I know is: Not only is my DVR ready, I have a back-up DVR ready.