The Sound of the Suburbs

I watched Game 1 till the first commercial when it was about 16-12. Then I went to play ball myself with a bunch of Laker fans who checked the score after every pickup game.

We had a discussion afterwards: do we play next Thursday? After all it will be Game 4. The majority voted NO until yours truly piped up with something along the lines of "Does Pau Gasol give a crap if we get a run?"

Uh, no. I prevailed, despite being the worst player on the floor last night. Assertive conviction overrides all.

So, yeah, I didn't really see Game 1. But the outcome was No Surprize.

Kobe slashed, Gasol muscled, Odom opened, Fisher fished.

And Boston, apparently, stood around and watched.

What's great about NBA playoffs, especially the Finals, is the pressure shifts seismically after every game.

In this case the heat is on Homeboy Paul Pierce. If he doesn't decide to take it to the rack and throw caution to the wind, Boston will lose Game 2 and the series.

Ray Allen will get his points. KG is on his last legs but has a last run in him if he's the fourth wheel behind Pierce/Rondo/Allen. Boston's bench should and must rise up in Game 2.

Vegas once again looks prescient after Game 1, making LA heavy favorites. Because LA has Bryant on a vengeful mission and a better supporting cast than Jordan ever had. So the Celtics are underdogs.

But don't count them out -- yet. The two things they have going for them are Pierce and Rivers. And make that three things -- how could I forget Rondo?

Still, the heat is on Inglewood's finest, Pierce. Mitch Kupchak, Jerry Buss and Action Jackson let Trevor Ariza go for THIS series. If Ron Ron neutralizes Pierce as he did Friday night, it ends quickly.

So it's up to 2008 MVP PP to get it up and carry his squad back to TD Garden tied at one. Because this ain't the young, dumb and quick Thunder out there. It's the aging, wily Celtics who must carry the Auerbach/Russell torch and step up to the challenge.

Speaking of the greatest player in hoop history, Bill Russell, I hope he's living the Bryan Ferry life right about now ... "Here as I sit at this antique cafe thinking of you..." Because Ray Allen must play the role of Sam Jones, Pierce Havlicek, Garnett Cowens, Wallace Siegfried, Rondo Archibald, if Boston is to rebound (sic).

And David Stern and I sure hope so. ABC needs the coin of a six- or seven-game series and after all this retro Bird-Magic build-up, so do we.

So Mr. Pierce, meet the challenge. Take it to the rack. You will get the calls if you've got spring in your step.

On a separate, sad note, the greatest coach in sports history left the planet today. At 99 years young, John Wooden, the man with the rolled-up game plan coiled tightly in his fist, the best teacher in college sports history, has succumbed to the inevitable call of Death.

May you rest in peace, Mr. Wooden. Like Joe DiMaggio and Vince Lombardi, you will always be remembered as not just a champion, but a gentleman. I can't say for sure but I bet the guy never drew a T. Condolences to the entire Wooden and UCLA family.

THIS is a great loss.

So we're less than 48 hours out from what we all hope will be the most memorable seven-game series of the 21st Century. As I've said before, it'll have to be a monster to top the 2005 Spurs-Pistons series, but we've got bigger markets, bigger names and bigger history for a start.

Who will guard Rondo? If it's Bryant, he's run ragged all over the floor and has to find that secret energy reserve (which he always has) to get it up on the offensive end. This leaves Fisher on Allen, which the RaynMan should dominate. But don't underestimate Fish and his multiple rings. And Brown and Farmar will have to step up, as well as contend with the reborn Nate Robinson, who will come out firing.

On the side we get the mainman match: Pierce v. Artest. The modern-day Rodman, Ron Ron could conceiveably give P Squared fits, but then again Pierce could make Q1 interesting by drawing early fouls and forcing Artest to the bench. Then we get Odom v. Pierce. Odom shows up at least every other game and with his Kardashian bride on the sidelines expect him to Bob Beamon his way through the finals.

In the paint, I'd put KG on Bynum. KG is old and dinged. Bynum is young and dinged. Draw. That leaves Perkins and Sheed to shadow Gasol, another key to the outcome.

The Celtic bench rules on paper, but I'll go out on a limb and predict either Brown or Farmar wins one game with an out-of-nowhere offensive thrust.

The crowd and the coaches: Dead even. Lunatic fans on each coast, and Glenn Rivers will match every move Action Jackson makes.

Inevitably it will come down to Kobe v. Boston. As everybody not living under a rock knows, Bryant is the best baller on Planet Earth. Yet Boston has the better TEAM.

I have no idea who will win, nor does anybody else. The fact that SI's "experts" pick Boston four to two, just as they almost unanimously picked Cleveland to win it all at the start of this craziness, makes me think Kobe and Co. will win.

Of most concern to me is Games 1, 4 and 7 are slated for Thursday nights, MY sacred hoop night. What was wrong with Weds/Fri/Sunday, Herr Stern?

Must be about ad dollars.

Bring on the action, cuz when it's over we'll be left with MLB until football kicks in.

The mistake most sports writers make is postulating that the game is purely based on physical superiority.

On an everyday/everyweek basis this is true. And this is what Vegas and gamblers everywhere bet. But sports, like life, is a complex business. The best team does not always win. We shall see what happens in Miami with the herd expecting Indy to win handily. In that case I happen to agree, Colts 34 Saints 14.

But as we saw Saturday in Portland sports is a mind game.

The Lakers went into the Rose Garden having lost nine straight there and coming off a home defeat to Chauncey Billups and the Nuggets, who shot around sixty percent from the field AND beyond the stripe, a rarity in league play. Nobody could have beaten Denver last night. The Nets, Knicks, Clippers or Pistons (has there ever been an NBA season with more bad teams?) by fifty.

So what happens the next night?

Kobe Bryant isn't even in the building and they blow out their longtime road nemesis Portland and decisively at that.

This is fascinating sports psychology because Gasol, Odom, Fish, Brown, Farmar, Walton, Bynum and most of all Artest rose up and played the game without their ace just like the Willis Reed-less Knicks overachieved decades ago in the pivotal game of the NBA Finals.

When Ron Ron hit a three just inside halfcourt at the end of the first half, you just knew the Lakers were gonna win. And win they did, convincingly at that, an upside the head beatdown just when they needed it most.

Despite their losing regular-season record against the top teams in the league, the Lakers showed why they are head and shoulders above everyone else playing the game.

Kobe's supporting cast have been subconsciously waiting for a chance to show the world what they're made of, and they did it in style against Portland.

Everyone stepped up and put pedal to metal, and for a change the boxscore will actually tell the real story.

LA simply dominated and this win will resonate with this team all the way to the end of the regular season. Scolding Papa Kobe wasn't even there but for certain he was watching somewhere rubbing his hands together with glee as this is Just What The Doctor Ordered, and Ted Nugent would heartily approve.

A team dependent on such a singular leader as Bryant needs a good dose of individual approbation every once in a while and tonight the Lakers threw down the gauntlet. Led by three guys -- Gasol, Bynum and Artest -- who would be The Man on most other teams but are subliminally undercut playing with one of the five greatest players ever to play the game in Bryant, the Lakers showed why they are not just the reigning champs but the team to beat come playoff time.

It does indeed take a village in the corporate nee sports world and LA showed how that matters. Playing without your top gun is a test of fortitude, talent and guts, and Phil Jackson knows it. I don't know if he forced KB to rest or not, but either way he gets credit and continues to solidify his position as the best manager of million dollar talent in sports.

Even without its stud Brandon Roy, Portland always finds a way to beat LA but this time it was overwhelmed by a group of athletes with powerful motivation -- showing their true boss KB that they can and will get it done without him.

Every sports squad around the globe can learn from this contest, learn that the whole is greater than the sum of its parts and that's why they call it a team game.

Laker Nation can now sit back and know their team is ready for anything, know they traded up for Ariza with Artest, know Gasol can be the main stem whenever he has to be.

A chilling prospect for the rest of the league, including the aging Celtics, the one-man Cavs and the creaky Spurs.

Phil Jackson never gets consideration for Coach of the Year honors, but it's a game like this that should remind voters why The Zen Master is in the same class as Red Auerbach, Vince Lombardi and Joe Torre.

Look out, NBA. The Lakers may be the incumbent champs, but they're still Hungry For That Good Thing, baby.

I don't know how many people are reading my little blog, hosted by a bound-for-greatness site (and I say that sans bias) but I just wanna say let's all take a beat and appreciate the pure joy sports provides us all.

We live in turbulent times; political and economic strife threatening to suffocate all our positive life energy, but you gotta take a beat and just Dig It.

Life is short and it's later than we all think. That's why I am typing in my backyard listening to Storyville (ten points if you know 'em; if not, go buy their two essential CDs at once) rap it down with I Can't Keep A Handle On It.

The pure beauty of music equates with sports in such synchronous fashion it makes an old fart like me wanna cry. Golden Earring live spewing Candy's Going Bad ... the perfect antidote to Team Van Gundy's Game 4 collapse.

Lakers win, Figueroa parade, media scribes reaching to attach warmth to MVP Kobe. Yes, here in the land of the lost, where Will Ferrell's box office mojo is over, Laker car flags are flying wild, as well they should. They have been smarting since the TD BankNorth beatdown 12 months back, and as in so many instances, have rebounded from defeat to gutcheck their way to a title, and hats off to them.

My secret MVP, the greatest baller of all time IMHO, Earvin Johnson, whose pointed part-owner critiques have -- make no mistake -- been heard by the Staples 12 one way or another and motivated them in no small measure to victory.

Sports is life in microcosm. Motivation and aesthetic triumph outta nowhere like a Jeff Beck solo. Athletes dance to their own drummer but not really ... they are Just Like Us, but even more sensitive. They live in a fishbowl -- media, talk radio, internet, arena fans -- they earn every million dollar buck they make.

A good guy like Lamar Odom, harangued by LA glitterati et.al. for UnderDog performances ... how would YOU like to lose a child? This guy may not be a straight arrow performer but he is emotionally damaged like many of us, and it's great to see him Rock It Down like he did in Game 3, imposing his will with diffident post-up work, focusing on the task at hand, putting aside the parental baggage that would paralyze many of us permanently. I look forward to seeing the great Lamar Odom -- the Eric Clapton of the hardwood -- get his ring, be it in fall 2009, purple and gold or not. No one will be able to take that away from him.

My suggested takeway is let's give these great men and women -- Lamar to Rafi, Kobe to Venus/Serena, Tiger to Federer -- a break. We so live our lives vicariously through them, we are so quick to criticize their foibles, but let's have a heart ... Athletes Rock.

It doesn't matter what they make, it doesn't matter what WE make, they give us a thrill in our mundane lives and they deserve a hand. Or two.

Aberrant freaks like O.J. and Phil Spector are mere flies in the ointment. Accentuate the positive. Adore these warriors for their efforts.

As in ancient Rome and Greece, sport is to be savored ... and applauded.

The comic highlight of the NBA regular season was Sasha Vujacic --- he of the ultra-annoying Boratesque headband, the Laker benchwarmer who makes a three every month or so --- complaining to assembled media after a beatdown at the hands of New Orleans about Chris Paul's in-game commentary. I quote Sasha's Buckleyesque colloquialism: "Call me bitch! He call me bitch!"

Well guess what, Sasha, Chris Paul was right on. You're the Urkel of the NBA, ready-made for abuse.

But tonight you rode the pine as usual while Rafer "Skip To My Lou" Alston finally showed up and torched Fish and Farmar, as the Magic eked out a must-win in Game 3. The bad news for Orlando is they shot 62.5 percent, a Finals record ... and eked out a win.

Kobe Bryant is probably in a gym somewhere in FLA right now shooting free throws because his misses made the difference, uncharacteristic for The Black Mamba or whatever he calls himself in the third person (always a dead giveaway to a complete egoist).

The Magic shot brilliantly but the Lakers matched them every step of the way, led by Pau Gasol and Trevor Ariza, who may prove to be the difference in yet another ironic sports twist. Here's a guy who couldn't crack Stan Van Gundy's rotation and was dealt for a song to The Lakers. Who's sorry now, Otis Smith?

Lamar Odom was also magnificent tonight, and while it's likely Mitch Kupchak will toss him in the trash in favor of Ariza in the wake of their inevitable title, Lamar is going out guns blazing. He looked like Tim Duncan in the fourth quarter, backing Hedo down way low in the post and scoring on a variety of sweet shots.

And the Lakers can always count on the sixth man in the striped shirt, in this case Joey Crawford, whose foul call against Superman on Kobe on a clear jump ball made onlookers recall the equally fix-is-in call when Howard blocked LeBron's three at the end of Game 3 in the ECF. There are two untouchables in the league, and neither name starts with Dwight.

Not to beat a dead horse but the three-man ref crew is obsolete. Two is better than three. Case closed.

Expect the Lakers to rebound literally and figuratively in Game 4 and put it away, unless Orlando can somehow persevere and show the resilience that got them here. Because the fact is they were lucky to win tonight. The final possession alone was embarrassing: three 3-point heaves by LA with resultant offensive boards culminating in the indefatiguable Bryant grabbing the fourth rebound for a lay-in before Lewis iced it from the stripe.

LA goes into the locker room realizing that despite Orlando's shooting acumen they gave it away. And that's not a good omen for Team Van Gundy.

The overriding point, however, is tonight, like so many other nights in these playoffs, has given us fans great, great sport, competitive, emotional basketball at the highest level. Amazing can and has happened, and if the Magic can get it up in Game 4 and prevail, we could be in for the proverbial Big Finish.

For the sake of the fan in all of us, Skip To My Lou, Magic.

Superman has arisen in The East and his name is LeBron, er, Dwight Howard.

While Delonte West and M Williams filled it up during garbage time, D Howard and his gang of merry pranksters -- Alston, Lewis, Lee and Turkoglu -- grinned their way through the east to The Finals.

Next up Kobe Bryant, he of the savage look (Housekeeper, anyone?) and his partners in crime Gasol, Odom, Ariza and Fisher. Obviously the Lakers will be heavy favorites. They have Kobe, went to the big dance a year ago, suffered humiliation at the hands of Boston in Game 6 ... but still ... Orlando is not to be overlooked.

The Magic play what is known as Team Basketball, a concept the Lakers did not embrace until Game 6 in Denver, when they trounced the Nuggets in a game over by halftime. The offseason begins with Denver and Cleveland vying for Ben Gordon and Antonio McDyess, a tandem who could put either club over the top.

But back to basics.

LA will be favored in five or six, and I wouldn't bet against them.

Let's look at the match-ups:

Howard v. Gasol. Winner: Howard. Still, Gasol is a stud and he will inevitably cause foul troubles for Superman. The question is how much.

Lewis v. Bynum. Winner: Lewis. Bynum will be lost on the perimeter if Rashard makes his jumpers.

Odom v. Hedo. Winner: Odom. This is his time, and he can smell the ring.

Bryant v. Alston. Winner: Kobe, obviously. But Rafer is a streetball ace and he will get his, especially against Farmar/Brown.

Lee v. Fisher. Winner: Lee. However, never underestimate the heart of a champion. Fisher may very well start knocking down shots, walk away with another ring and retire.

Bench: Advantage Magic.

Zenmaster v. Van Gundy: Action Jackson takes it to the rack. Despite Laker Nation Angst, Phil has masterfully guided his team to a playoff peak, with another Figueroa Street parade a mere four wins away. Van Gundy remains a professional irritant, but a Finals win guarantees him a rep as a player's coach whose tiff with Dwight H may lead to a title.

Bring It On ...