The Square Life

Following the Jazz's absolutely crushing defeat last weekend, I have thought a lot about being a sports fan. The pure agony I felt when Okur and Williams failed to sink a pair of threes that would have improbably forced a Game 6 overtime was far too real. However, I soon realized that within the roots of my agony is the potential for true fan joy; a joy that neither Lakers fans nor Kobe will ever be able to experience. And in this fact I have found solace.

In case you are confused by my last paragraph, let's break it down. Take the Yankees and Red Sox for instance. Yankee fans have never enjoyed a World Series title as much as the Red Sox fans. They couldn't. How could they when they have been spoiled for far too long? Whenever they don’t win it all, they cry like thirteen year old girls. They are like that kid who gets a brand new car for his sixteenth birthday, but then complains when it wasn’t exactly what they wanted. When they do win a title their joy potential is very limited. They can only be so happy since each title is merely one of many that they have bought—ahem, won. I have learned in my life that without pain, you can only appreciate joy so much. Yankees fans could claim to have endured pain, but whatever that "pain" is, it can't possibly compare to what the Sox fans endured. Therefore, when the Sox finally dethroned the Yanks in '04, they were eligible for pure joy. Ask any real Sox fan what that felt like, and they will describe pure joy. They are like the kid who never got much from is parents, so when he bought his first car, he was genuinely excited. That’s the blessing of not being spoiled.

Speaking of spoiled kids, let’s take a closer look at Kobe. Kobe will never feel the pure joy that a championship can offer. He couldn’t. Kobe grew up the son of an NBA player, and was always blessed with an abundance of wealth and goods. He never had the experience of longing for the chance to play ball in the pros, but not knowing if he could get there. He always knew he would. He took Brandy to the prom (um, at the time, it was a big deal), and almost certainly got a brand new car at sixteen.

When Kobe was drafted in 1996 by the Hornets, he refused to play for them. He demanded to play for the Lakers. Hmmm, for some reason I can’t see Chris Paul pulling that one. That’s right, he was given the brand new car (an opportunity to play in the NBA), but it wasn’t enough. He wanted to play in Los Angeles. Kobe didn’t take the path that Michael Jordan, and so many others did. He never faced the challenge of taking a cellar dweller and making them a contender. He never flirted with the idea of being stuck with a loser (more on this in a bit). Instead, he fell (or more appropriately threw) himself into the lap of glitz, glamour, and Shaq.

Kobe has never really felt loss. He couldn’t. At all costs he avoids it. His refusal to play in Charlotte is a good example. Perhaps an even better example would Game 7 in the 2006 first round series against the Suns. With his team down big at halftime, Kobe decided it would be a good idea to not try in the second half, so as to “prove a point” about the quality of his team. Kobe notched a grand total of one point in the half. He acted so spoiled and bratty, that I remember half-expecting him to take the game ball and run home midway through the fourth quarter. So let me ask you: Would Michael ever score just one point when his team was up against the wall in a Game 7? I didn’t think so.

Yep, Kobe is quite the guy (tongue in cheek). Just two years after this disappointing Game 7, Kobe advanced easily in the first round, and was awarded the NBA MVP award before toppling the Jazz. Just months after demanding a trade because his team wasn’t good enough for him, Kobe was awarded the MVP trophy. In typical Kobe fashion, after his tantrum (trade demand), his parents (the Lakers organization), gave him Pau Gasol for nothing. And poof! MVP. Kobe has been coddled and spoiled his whole life, and has acted the part of the ungrateful little brat the whole way. He’s been the beneficiary of circumstance, a glamorous media outlet, countless benefit-of-the-doubt calls from referees, and Shaq. The one real trial (no pun intended) he has faced in his career came off the court. In typical Kobe fashion, it ended in a settlement. Settlements are the court of law’s version of mailing in the second half of Game 7…I assume.

Contrast the 2006 Game 7 with Game 6 last Friday. The Jazz came out sluggish, and gave up an early lopsided lead. By the time the fourth quarter came around, all seemed lost for Utah. The Lakers simply looked better, and Kobe was once again getting to the line at will. So what did the Jazz do? Mail it in and start packing for their summer trips (note: I’m excluding Boozer on this point)? Did Deron Williams decide to not bother shoot any shots, so he can make some point about how bad his support is? The answer is a resounding no. They kept fighting and fighting and fighting. Somehow, after a missed Derek Fisher free throw, the Jazz were one heave away from getting back in the series. But unfortunately the cruel NBA gods decreed once again that Utah must suffer yet another loss. A real loss too. And this is something Jazz fans know all too well. Remember how the Jazz went to the playoffs every year and the finals twice under Stockton and Malone? Remember how those teams never won the title, even though they came oh so close?

Deron and Co. gave it their all, so that when they fell just short, we were left in agony. But it’s okay. In fact, I am more than content. When the Jazz finally win the title, we will feel Red Sox fans like joy. We Jazz fans will likely cry beautiful tears of joy and hug everyone we see on the streets. We will name our sons after the players, and start writing books about dying in peace. Lakers fans? They will forever be stuck with Yankee like joy. They will never truly know how good it can be. In fact, there are no Lakers fans in all of L.A. worthy of such joy. They’re called Clippers fans.