It’s true, Bill Simmons has been critical of Kobe Bryant at times, but he has also pushed for the Black Mamba to be the league’s MVP even though the Lakers weren’t an elite team. In a recent column, Simmons explains why Kobe’s 61-point effort against the Knicks is the “defining Kobe game.”
I like watching him and arguing about him. I like being bothered and thrilled by him. And I really like when he plays like Michael J. Fox instead of The Wolf. See, I was weaned on the Bird era in Boston: the joys of making the extra pass, not caring about stats. Kobe’s 61-point game represented the best and worst of basketball to me. His shotmaking was transcendent: a steady onslaught of jumpers, spin moves and fallaways made in his typically icy style, as efficient an outburst as you’ll ever see. On the other hand, his teammates stood around and watched him like movie extras. In 37 minutes, Kobe took 31 shots and another 20 free throws. He finished with three assists and no boards. He may as well have been playing by himself on one of those Pop-A-Shot machines.
A friend of mine, a lifelong Knicks season ticket-holder since the Bradley era, e-mailed me afterward: “That was the worst night maybe of my life in the Garden. How horrible it must be to play with Kobe. He was signaling constantly to his teammates to get him the ball. THREE ASSISTS AND NO REBOUNDS. Talk about a team guy.” Another New York buddy was so distraught that Bernard’s 60-point Garden record fell so ignominiously—with Kobe’s padding his stats against a reprehensibly bad defense as a shocking number of fans chanted “MVP!”—that he e-mailed me the next day: “I literally didn’t sleep last night.” A third friend was there and swore that Kobe eyeballed Trevor Ariza after Trev made the mistake of swishing a 24-footer in the fourth. And yet, the national reaction seemed to be, “Wow! Kobe scores 61! He’s unbelievable!” Spike Lee even called it “genius.” (Move over, Einstein and Mozart.)
Really, it was the defining Kobe game. He elicited every reaction possible from lovers, haters and everyone in between. When LeBron arrived in New York two days later and notched his amazing 52/9/11, he didn’t break Kobe’s new record but definitely cheapened it. LeBron’s 52 came in the flow of the offense. When the Knicks doubled him, he found the open man. When they singled him, he scored. He dominated every facet of the game. It was a complete performance, basketball at its finest, everything we ever wanted from King James. And it happened 48 hours after Kobe’s big game … in the same building. Crazy.
I’ve been comparing those two games ever since. Never has basketball seemed more simple to me: I would rather watch a 52/9/11 than a 61/0/3. I would. It’s really that simple. It’s a matter of preference. So don’t call me a Kobe hater, call me a basketball lover.
And if Kobe ever put up a 52/9/11, yes, I would love him, too.
Gotta love that “Teen Wolf” reference. Classic.
Regular readers know I’m not a big fan of Kobe’s persona though I’m the first to admit that he’s the best one-on-one player in the NBA. I’ve been accused of being a hater as well, and that’s part of being critical of athletes on a sports blog. The bottom line is that Kobe is polarizing and not everyone that criticizes him is a true “hater,” much in the same way that everyone who likes his game isn’t a “believer.”
Simmons mentioned something else earlier in the piece.
When he accidentally injured Andrew Bynum’s knee recently, I found it interesting that Kobe’s reaction was more “Crap, there goes my title!” than “Oh, no, my teammate is hurt—I hate seeing him in pain!”
I went back and watched Kobe’s reaction again, and he did look like he was more pissed about the injury (and the negative ramifications on his title hopes) than he was genuinely concerned about Bynum.
Or maybe I’m just a hater.
