Spring Loaded

Vacations are supposed to clear your head and sharpen your focus, ultimately giving you all the answers you were looking for. For me, the time away from sports has just left me with more questions, such as:

-- Did the Lakers really trade Scottie Pippen for Dennis Rodman?

If Trevor Ariza grows as much in the next few seasons – and we’re not talking height here – as he did this past season, he has a chance to become a Pippen-like player. Remember, Ariza is only 24, leaving plenty of time for development.

Ron Artest, on the other hand, could just as easily regress. Every time you think he has put the ugly days behind him, doused the trigger fuse that exploded so memorably in the seats at Auburn Hills, he snaps again and gets himself ejected at a crucial moment in a crucial game as he did against the Lakers in this year’s playoffs.

-- How long until word leaks out of a Laker practice that Artest got back into Kobe’s face?

-- Will I be furiously trying to de-Google this blog a year from now when Artest is standing arm in arm with Kobe atop the lead bus in next year’s victory parade.

Much higher rollers than I have gone broke betting against Jerry Buss, with or without a full house in their hands. The guy is only working on his third dynasty, three more than 99 percent of sports owners ever see. He was criticized almost 30 years ago for giving a two-year veteran named Magic Johnson a 25-year, $25-million contract, unheard of at the time, questioned for getting rid of his center, Vlade Divac, before he had secured the desired replacement, Shaquille O’Neal, and then blasted for trading Shaq for a trio that included Lamar Odom, best known then for his disappearing act.

-- Now that we’ve seen the Staples Center hardwood floor on the Coliseum grass surrounded by 80,000 to 90,000 fans, how long until the Lakers stage a game there?

-- Can we all chill out on the LeBron James criticism?

So the guy didn’t shake hands with Orlando Magic or face the media after losing in the conference finals? Big deal. He’s competitive.

Maybe he ought to get a prescription for a female fertility drug. That might bring back the cheers.

-- How long before Shaq balks at playing second fiddle to LeBron? And you thought the Shaq-Kobe feud was nasty.

-- Has Blake Griffin asked to be traded yet?

-- Has T.O. asked to be traded yet?

-- Aren’t we overdue for an Al Davis threat to leave town?

-- Could we do away with the baseball All-Star Game and just stage the Home Run Derby?

-- Could we do away with the NFL Pro Bowl?

You think a lot of players asked out when the game was in Hawaii. Wait until you see how many come up with pulled hamstrings now that it has been moved back to the mainland.

-- Are you allowed to buy a ticket to an MMA event without showing your tattoo?

-- What turns the paying customers off more, a boxing match without Manny Pacquiao or a golf tournament without Tiger?

-- Oscar, care to reconsider your retirement decision?

-- Isn’t it sad that people got more excited over Mike Tyson’s punch in The Hangover than any punch thrown by a heavyweight in recent years?

-- Is Tiger golf’s best ever? He may keep pace with good friend Roger Federer by winning his 15th grand slam event, but until he matches Jack Nicklaus’ 18, Tiger is only No. 2 on the links.

-- Anybody notice that David Beckham has returned to these shores? Will anybody care when he leaves again?

-- Is it a bad sign for the Minnesota Vikings if Brett Favre uses his left hand to sign a contract with them?

Questions, questions, questions.

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.