Kobe Bryant became the fifth all-time
leading scorer in the
NBA history this week.
This is confusing for me because even though Kobe's my favorite player, I hate him at least half of the time. Simplified, here's why: me watching Kobe play is like Coach Norman Dale watching Rade Butcher in the first game in Hoosiers.
Coach Dale has a rule for his team: no shooting until you make four passes. In the second half of the first game of the season, Rade decides anyone who came up with a rule like that must have mental problems, so on consecutive plays he dribbles down the court, doesn't even look at his teammates, and cans a pair of threes. "Four passes, Norman? Grizzly Adams had a beard," Rade's face clearly says.
Coach Dale is in a pickle. Rade bold-facedly disobeyed his rule, so he should sit his ball-hogging butt on the bench. But in high school basketball, benching a kid who is on fire historically doesn't play well politically. See the pickle, readers? See exactly the reason you hate your jobs pinpointed, coaches of ball hogs everywhere?
Too many times when I've watched Kobe, I've felt like the Coach Dale, watching Rade in the this scene.
This is what seems to happen every fourth quarter of a Lakers game I've watched since Kobe became the team's star:
Kobe posted up with the ball 20 feet from the basket. He squares up. Rips the ball right, left, over his head, an inch from the floor. His defender's hand in his face. Kobe fakes a shot. Defender knows if he jumps with Kobe he can't block his shot anyway, stays down. Another fake. Other four defenders know Kobe is going to shoot. They sag toward him. If Kobe chose to, say, pass, the other four defenders will be out of position and the Lakers will get a good shot. Kobe shoots. Swish. Shades of Rade Butcher.
Knowing every time this happens that the "Isolate the best player on your team" offense flies in the face of the team game basketball is meant to be, I can't help but smile.
This is confusing for me because even though Kobe's my favorite player, I hate him at least half of the time. Simplified, here's why: me watching Kobe play is like Coach Norman Dale watching Rade Butcher in the first game in Hoosiers.
Coach Dale has a rule for his team: no shooting until you make four passes. In the second half of the first game of the season, Rade decides anyone who came up with a rule like that must have mental problems, so on consecutive plays he dribbles down the court, doesn't even look at his teammates, and cans a pair of threes. "Four passes, Norman? Grizzly Adams had a beard," Rade's face clearly says.
Coach Dale is in a pickle. Rade bold-facedly disobeyed his rule, so he should sit his ball-hogging butt on the bench. But in high school basketball, benching a kid who is on fire historically doesn't play well politically. See the pickle, readers? See exactly the reason you hate your jobs pinpointed, coaches of ball hogs everywhere?
Too many times when I've watched Kobe, I've felt like the Coach Dale, watching Rade in the this scene.
This is what seems to happen every fourth quarter of a Lakers game I've watched since Kobe became the team's star:
Kobe posted up with the ball 20 feet from the basket. He squares up. Rips the ball right, left, over his head, an inch from the floor. His defender's hand in his face. Kobe fakes a shot. Defender knows if he jumps with Kobe he can't block his shot anyway, stays down. Another fake. Other four defenders know Kobe is going to shoot. They sag toward him. If Kobe chose to, say, pass, the other four defenders will be out of position and the Lakers will get a good shot. Kobe shoots. Swish. Shades of Rade Butcher.
Knowing every time this happens that the "Isolate the best player on your team" offense flies in the face of the team game basketball is meant to be, I can't help but smile.
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