Spring Loaded

He’s too intense.

He’s too serious.

He’s too arrogant.

He doesn’t show his opponents enough respect.

He’s taking all the joy out of winning.

Is that about it for Kobe Bryant or can we find something else to complain about?

Good thing he didn’t snub the media and opponents a la LeBron James. In Kobe’s case, that might have raised calls for his banishment.

All the nitpicking is about as damaging as throwing paper airplanes at a tank. Kobe just rolls over it the way he has rolled over the Orlando Magic in the NBA Finals.

He’s less than a week away from solidifying his place as the best basketball player on the planet and among a handful considered the best of all time. In the last year, Kobe has won an MVP award, an Olympic gold medal and will add his fourth NBA title this week, his first without Shaquille O’Neal.

“I want it so bad,” Kobe said after Game 1, as if he had to explain his intensity.

He’ll even make his critics happy next week after his mission is accomplished and the pressure is off. He’ll crack a huge smile when he raises the championship trophy over his head, embrace Dwight Howard, hug his own wife and kids and even joke with the media.

To be sure, Kobe was deserving of criticism in the past.

He was immature when he first turned pro, a teen-ager firing up those ill-advised airballs against Utah in the postseason of his rookie year.

But he was 17 when he was drafted and never had the benefit of college. Andrew Bynum has gotten more understanding about his immaturity and he’s in his fourth season.

Kobe got criticized for his share of the Kobe-Shaq feud.

Both men should have put the best interests of the team ahead of their own egos, but what did Kobe ever really demand of Shaq? That he stay in shape. Wow, what a radical idea.

Kobe was criticized for his give-me-the-ball-and-get-out-of-my-way or you-take-the-ball-and-leave-me-alone attitude and those detractors were justified.

Kobe seemed to struggle for a long time with the intricacies of integrating himself into the offense Feeling he could score any time he had the ball in his hands, he figured, why not?

Kobe, when he was on one of those tears, never threw a premeditated pass.

When he bowed to pressure and tried to share the ball with teammates, his method was to give it to them and get out of the way.

And certainly he received criticism when he was charged with sexual assault in Colorado. But, as we all know, those charges were dropped.

So now, what’s the beef?

Kobe has matured. He has become the consummate teammate, both on and off the court, sharing the ball and his advice, serving as Phil Jackson’s surrogate when necessary, equal parts cheerleader, disciplinarian, strategist and intermediary with the guys in the striped shirts. It is Kobe who makes sure the ball is evenly distributed and the scoring column as well when possible.

And when a sure-handed touch is needed in the scoring department, when the clock is running down, when the closer is needed out of the bullpen, Kobe is there as well, scoring at a pace and in a variety of ways that matches anyone who has ever stepped on the hardwood.

Even at the international level, it was Kobe who set the tone for the defensive mode that smoothed the path for the U.S. to Olympic gold in Beijing.

Last year, it was Chris Paul who was supposedly challenging Kobe’s place as the game’s best player. This season, it was LeBron. Next year, it’ll be another hot gunslinger.

Kobe is 30. He’s not going anywhere. The only people he should be compared with are Kareem, MJ, Wilt and Bill Russell.

To say that Michael Jordan is automatically the best who ever played is ludicrous. Russell had far more championships (11 in 13 seasons, including eight in a row). Kareem had six, the same number as Jordan, and is the league’s all-time leading scorer. You like numbers? Wilt was the greatest offensive force the game has ever known.

And now, Kobe has entered the conversation, clenched teeth and all.

David Stern,

NBA Commissioner

New York, New York

Dear David:

I know you’d never admit it in public, but this is clearly not the NBA Finals you dreamed of.

It’s not Lakers vs. Celtics once again.

It’s not Kobe vs. LeBron for the first time.

But that doesn’t mean the Lakers and Magic can’t put on a show that grips the basketball nation and keeps the ratings respectable if not record-shattering.

It’s still Kobe in search of redemption, in search of bragging rights to a title procured without Shaq, in search of another rung on his life-long quest to top MJ.

It’s still the power of Dwight Howard against the finesse of Pau Gasol. Oh yeah, and Andrew Bynum might show up too, but don’t bet on it. (Sorry about that, David. I know you don’t even like to see your name in the same sentence as the word bet.)

It’s still an historic franchise looking to add to a near-record number of banners against one with no championship banners and little history worth remembering.

It’s East against West, Disneyland against Disney World, the team of Magic Johnson against a team with plenty of magic of its own.

It could be a great series. But you control that, David. You really do.

So do us all a favor and blow the whistle on your refs. Tell them to let these guys play. Remind them again that nobody -- but relatives, and we’re not even sure about them -- pays to see them run their zebra-striped bodies up and down the court.

Net-swishing three-pointers by Kobe? Yes.

Rim-rattling dunks by Howard? Yes.

Gravity-defying steals by Trevor Ariza? Yes.

Mind-numbing trips to the foul line? No.

An enthusiasm-smothering clampdown on trash talking? Please no.

A bewildering series of technicals, flagrant fouls, ejections and suspensions? Enough already.

You have a great game, David. Why throw a blanket over it? If you were in charge of the Kentucky Derby, would you tie plows behind all the horses?

That’s the equivalent of what you’ve done here by creating ridiculous guidelines for your officials. Fouls are called that are sometimes imperceptible on replays. Floppers get rewarded for going into a swan dive every time an opposing player breathes on them.

Trash talking is a technical. That’s right, trash talking.

And hard fouls all seem to be flagrant fouls. There are flagrant 1s and flagrant 2s.

Is a torture category next?

It’s ruining the game, David. Kobe gets in Shane Battier’s face after scoring and Kobe gets a technical. J. R. Smith celebrates. Another technical. Ron Artest shoves Gasol to prevent a sure basket and Artest gets a flagrant 2.

That was lowered to a flagrant 1 after the league office had a day to reconsider.

That’s another silly trend. We must now wait 24 hours for league disciplinarian Stu Jackson to hand down a ruling, like an appeals court, before we can be sure what the final verdict is on any call.

I guess you don’t trust the refs on the floor, David. But if they’re so incompetent, why not do away with them altogether and just have Jackson call the game from his office?

It’s been four seasons since Artest jumped into the stands in Detroit to fight with fans, but it seems like the fear still lingers that every game is one hard foul away from a riot.

If your current clampdown had been in effect in the 1984 Finals, Kevin McHale’s clothesline tackle of Kurt Rambis would have at least earned McHale a lifetime suspension, if not prison time.

And Larry Bird and Michael Cooper, two of the great trash talkers of their era, would have been stuck on the bench talking to themselves.

The league was entertaining and fun back then, two words you seem determined to expunge from the NBA vocabulary.

Talk to old-timers. They just shake their heads at the newer, stricter NBA.

It shouldn’t be this difficult. If you go for the ball, contact should be no worse than a foul. If you go for the head, that’s flagrant. If you want to trash talk or pound your chest or throw chalk in the air, that’s entertainment.

You’ve got a great product to sell, David. Take the wrapping off and put it on the shelf as is.

Believe me, the customers will be standing in line.