One point. One. Frigging. Point.
This was how much Kobe Bryant scored against the Phoenix Suns in the second half of Game 7 of their best-of-seven series. A do-or-die game. Win-or-go-home time. The pride of one of the greatest franchises in professional sports history on the line and what does Kobe do?
He only attempts THRICE in the second half of the game. THREE times.
It's not as if the game was beyond reach at the half. The Suns led, 60-45, but the Lakers had 24 minutes of basketball to turn things around. Sure, the Lakers were getting their asses handed to them, but for crying out loud, they had TWENTY FOUR frigging' minutes to play some defense, get their acts together, and win the damn game.
The pathetic performances of the other Lakers weren't surprising. That's a given. But I thought Kobe was going to do his darnedest to WILL his team to victory, which Michael Jordan tried EVERY time. Sure, Jordan's Bulls got beat. Hell, they got beat ALL the time. But their opponents bled for each and every win. Jordan may not have won games against Larry Bird early in his career, but at least he won Bird's respect.
(An aside. How competitive was Jordan? In practices, his team, naturally, would lead by a WIDE margin over the second team. At halftime, he would be put on the other team. And he would still play his ass off to win. And most times, he did.)
That, unfortunately, is what Kobe's lost in his sub-par Game 7 performance-- respect. Everything that defines him-- his competitiveness, his fire, his relentlessness-- these are the things that draw comparisons to Jordan. And these are the things that were absent in the most important minutes of the Suns-Lakers series.
This could have been it. The game that could've made Kobe Bryant a legend. He didn't have to win it. All he had to do was play his heart out and try. He didn't. That's why "Be Kobe" will never sound as good as "Like Mike."
This was how much Kobe Bryant scored against the Phoenix Suns in the second half of Game 7 of their best-of-seven series. A do-or-die game. Win-or-go-home time. The pride of one of the greatest franchises in professional sports history on the line and what does Kobe do?
He only attempts THRICE in the second half of the game. THREE times.
It's not as if the game was beyond reach at the half. The Suns led, 60-45, but the Lakers had 24 minutes of basketball to turn things around. Sure, the Lakers were getting their asses handed to them, but for crying out loud, they had TWENTY FOUR frigging' minutes to play some defense, get their acts together, and win the damn game.
The pathetic performances of the other Lakers weren't surprising. That's a given. But I thought Kobe was going to do his darnedest to WILL his team to victory, which Michael Jordan tried EVERY time. Sure, Jordan's Bulls got beat. Hell, they got beat ALL the time. But their opponents bled for each and every win. Jordan may not have won games against Larry Bird early in his career, but at least he won Bird's respect.
(An aside. How competitive was Jordan? In practices, his team, naturally, would lead by a WIDE margin over the second team. At halftime, he would be put on the other team. And he would still play his ass off to win. And most times, he did.)
That, unfortunately, is what Kobe's lost in his sub-par Game 7 performance-- respect. Everything that defines him-- his competitiveness, his fire, his relentlessness-- these are the things that draw comparisons to Jordan. And these are the things that were absent in the most important minutes of the Suns-Lakers series.
This could have been it. The game that could've made Kobe Bryant a legend. He didn't have to win it. All he had to do was play his heart out and try. He didn't. That's why "Be Kobe" will never sound as good as "Like Mike."
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