Kobe

“Serious sport is war minus the shooting.” ~ George Orwell

Even though I have some critically important business to take care of, I spent my pre-radiation morning searching the Internet for just one snotty editorial about Kobe.  I couldn't find anything.  What the hell is wrong with people?  The fact that Kobe took three shots in the second half of the seventh game is what?  Just fine with you?  Okay, okay.  I'll just do it myself.  Jesus.

I used to be something of a Kobe fan.  When he first entered the League, he was a bit of a hot dog, but I figured that was okay because he was twelve or thirteen, right?  He was obviously pheonemenally gifted.  When you're young and gifted, it's not uncommon to be a little arrogant.  I was when I was a young person and I was in no way as talented as he.  Hey, I'm a forgiving kind of person and I loved watching him play.

 As time went on, it seemed likely that L.A. was going to have to build a new arena just to house Kobe's enormous ego.  When he came to play, he could just check the ego in next door because it was way to big to fit in the locker room with the rest of the guys. 

Then there was the Shaq, Phil and Kobe thing.  I wasn't a big Shaq fan (that's another story) and even Phil's luster dimmed a bit (yet another story), but when Kobe single-handedly broke up the juggernaut of basketball, the Lakers, I had had just about enough of young Kobe. 

I'm sure you can guess what the clencher was--the rape allegation.  The kid who got on so famously with his family, was polite and God-fearing showed the other side of the mask.  Not such a nice guy after all.  At the very least, he cheated on his wife and then made her show up at that pathetic news conference to convince us that she was standing by her man.  As an aside, I bet Kobe still has to check in with Vanessa every five minutes or so when he's out of town.  

At worst, he sexually assaulted someone.  Either way, I was fed up with young Kobe. 

I haven't liked Kobe in at least a year or so and I'm always excited by the prospect of the Lakers being beaten (even though I'm a big fan of Luke Walton).  Game 7 was one of the best days of my life.  (Yes, I know exactly how sad that is.)  Even when Kobe was actually trying, Steve Nash et al were torching them.  Then he just quit.

He didn't want to play anymore.  He wanted to take his toys and go home.  Fuck the home town fans, even if one of them is Jack Nicholson.  As far as I can tell,  Kobe hasn't provided us with any good explanation for his uselessness.  Was he pouting?  Was he just letting us all know how much better he is than his team mates? Maybe he was irritated with his team members because they weren't stepping it up.  I certainly have no idea, but I hope he spends the summer thinking a lot about why they were out of the play offs in the first round. 

As for me, it's been a very, very good playoff season already.

America held hostage day 1556.

Bushism of the day:

"Now, we talked to Joan Hanover. She and her husband, George, were visiting with us. They are near retirement—retiring —in the process of retiring, meaning they're very smart, active, capable people who are retirement age and are retiring."—Alexandria, Va., Feb. 12, 2003