Wasif's World

Last week, we debunked the myth that Phil Jackson is “the greatest coach of all-time” as some erroneously refer to him. In Part II or our in-depth exposé, we take on one of the men who will remain tied to Jackson throughout history – Kobe Bryant, a.k.a “the Black Mamba.”

Now Bryant is another story and the media really, really want to anoint him "the greatest Laker of all-time." And Kobe wants it badly. As much as he says he doesn’t, you can see it in his eyes. And you can see it in Magic’s eyes when he says, “Remind me again who Kobe is.”

First of all, anyone saying this either didn’t watch Magic (or Jerry West or Kareem or Shaq) play or just doesn’t understand what they’re saying. They’re on the fringe, covering one end of the spectrum. We can eliminate them from the discussion. Están loco en la cabeza, as they say in LA. Then let’s eliminate those people that just don’t like Kobe because he’s an adulterer and an accused rapist. That’s immaterial in this argument.

I can even give him a mulligan for his John Starksian choke in Game 7. (If Kobe’s given the MVP, shouldn’t he have to share it with Ron Artest? Or how about Ray Allen for looking even more John Starksian?) Everyone’s allowed a bad game, though, in the biggest close-out of his life, he was more the problem than the solution. That never happened to Magic.

Kobe really looked out of sorts throughout the entire series. He has a tendency to get flustered and make a whole lot of bad decisions. Michael never seemed to sweat, even in his bad games.

One way that Kobe is like Mike, however, are with the “Kobe rules.” Michael had the “Jordan rules” and Kobe has them apparently tenfold. That’s one problem with the league is that they cater to the superstars. A travel isn’t a travel. Patrick Ewing never traveled, John Stockton or Larry Bird never clutched or grabbed, and Kobe never fouled out. (I used to think an elbow to the face was a foul until I watched Kobe play. Silly me.)

I have to hand it to the Lakers, though, as they really emulated the great Celtics and Pistons teams of the 80’s for never actually committing a foul. The begging and pleading they do after being called for one looks like they’re auditioning for a daytime soap ... or to play for a FIFA soccer team.

And considering the Lakers have been handed entire games by the refs (SEE: Great, Not Greatest, Part I), they are the team that should be complaining the least.

If you watched only the 2010 Finals, Kobe fouled out of at least two games. But there was no way any ref wanting to keep his job was going to whistle him for his sixth foul on any of those nights. ("I dint see nuttin'.")

If Paul Pierce drove the lane and Kobe literally took out a gun and shot him, the refs would’ve convened at midcourt and concluded that it was Celtics ball out of bounds ... or maybe a defensive three seconds.

The league and, more specifically, the officiating, were less blatantly bad during Magic’s era. And remember, Magic played only 12 years, winning virtually half the time and led his team. Kobe played second fiddle to one Shaq Man Du, a.k.a. (this season) “the Big Shamrock,” for nearly a decade.

The only thing upon which you could possibly base the argument that Kobe is as good as Magic is the number of rings Kobe has won. He has five and Magic has five. Okay, so does Derek Fisher. Does that mean Fish is as good as Magic too? Remember from last week’s post that Robert Horry has eight. Is he better than Magic?

Also, Kobe has been named the league Most Valuable Player only one time. He’s in that rarefied air of Allen Iverson (“the Answer”), David Robinson (“the Admiral”) and Charles Barkley (“the guy on TNT with an opinion on everything”).

As far as Lakers go, Magic has three MVP awards; Kareem has three on the Lakers alone (six overall); even Shaq has won the Maurice Podoloff trophy as many times as Kobe has. So Kobe’s the “best Laker of all-time?”

Look, the league has changed. Comparing the present to the past isn’t well-reasoned. Read a little bit about how the league used to be and you’ll come away very enlightened. It’ll be a chance to learn about when the league was on top of the world and not scraping for coverage with NFL team activities in the off-season.

Kobe may be great, and may be the “best closer in the game,” (perhaps because he’s frequently put in a position to launch ill-advised shots at the end of games, some which go in), but certainly not the best “of all-time,” in the history of his franchise, let alone the entire sport.

So let’s try to keep the logic in this discussion regardless of what the media and the “experts” are trying to spin. As we’ve already pointed out when speaking of Phil Jackson, it makes for better television to claim you’re watching the best of all-time. For this era, these icons are certainly and inarguably among the best, but let’s not go all loco en la cabeza here.

I'm Andy Wasif and I approved this blog post.

The NBA season is about to begin. If you’re in Miami, Boston or Los Angeles, you’re excited! Though in LA, you may be excited about the fact that the championship celebration fires in downtown Los Angeles are out -- ah, LA, I love you during a celebration (though you should let up a little bit; you’re making Detroit obsolete and it’s already trying to deal with its depressed economy).

The team is poised for another run at the championship and confident because they have the “Zen Master,” Phil Jackson, signed up to coach the Lakers for another season.

I’d like to take this opportunity to address an important point, one that will be met with some rancor: Now that Phil Jackson has coached his 11th championship and Kobe has his fifth ring, can we please stop talking about how Phil is the “greatest coach of all-time” and Kobe is “up there with Magic Johnson.”

“Did he say stop? [gasp] Blasphemy! Burn the writer!” (“Uh, dude, I can’t. I used all my lighter fluid on that taxi cab during the LA riots in June.”)

That’s right. I said stop. It’s easy to look at numbers and come to an ill-conceived argument that they are the best of the best. Fans love to be able to say they witnessed the best of the best. Many fans aren’t fans of history so that makes it easier to claim this point. But there are so many more points tailored to fit a dissenting opinion.

First, regarding Jackson, those who question his accomplishments look first to this fact: He coached Michael Jordan, arguably the greatest player of all-time. The Travelocity gnome could’ve coached Jordan and gotten the same thing out of him.

I know, I know. But Jordan didn’t win until Phil Jackson took over. That’s a combination of factors, one of which is certainly Phil’s ascension to the position. You don’t think the chemistry between the players didn’t have anything to do with that? The league was a watered down mess at that point (and still is pretty much) where any team with two superstars had one foot in the Finals.

How about the fact that Phil didn’t win when it was the same team during Jordan’s sojourn to the baseball diamond? No one seems to mention those years.

But forgetting the fact he won six with Michael and bunch (not winning the two without Michael), he then chose to pack up and take over another team, also with two superstars. It was a formula in the NBA that was the only way to win at that time. Besides a Phil Jackson-coached team, who else had won during that period? Hakeem then Hakeem and Drexler, and Duncan and The Admiral. With the proper role players surrounding the best of the best, it’s a lock.

Good coaching helps. I’m not saying he isn’t a good coach. I’m just questioning the use of the greatest coach of all-time moniker. It’s a real stretch.

Look at other sports. It’s odd that Joe Torre is constantly being provided the disclaimer that he didn’t win before he was on the Yankees, but then he suddenly became a great coach. It’s commonly believed that his talents were more in the handling of superstars than in coming up with game strategy (though he was good at that as well). But Joe is not lauded as the “greatest coach of all-time” in baseball.

Phil Jackson, in similar fashion, is good at dealing with personalities, as is Doc Rivers, George Karl, Larry Brown, etc. And that’s the characterization that most fits Phil.

Would the greatest coach of all-time blame the refs as much as Phil does? Yes, he’s the highest paid coach in the league, but after all the fines he earns whining about the refs, he probably takes home around a rookie coach’s salary.

Seriously, he’s the only coach who ever whined about the refs when his team had almost twice as many foul shots as the other team!

Again, look at other great coaches. Joe Torre won four World Series in five years with the Yankees. Then he lost his next two. Did he ever once say anything about the umpires? How about Bill Belichick? The 2007 Giants team beat his Patriots into submission and took down the undefeated juggernauts. Was he questioning the fairness of the officiating after the game? No, sir!

There are but three guarantees in this world – death, taxes and Phil Jackson’s complaining about the refs.

He’s also, through no fault of his own – unlike Belichick who sowed his own controversy – the focal point in what should be the greatest scandal in sports since 1919 – the league’s manipulation of playoff games (we’ll throw “alleged” in there just to make you wide-eyed innocents happy). Most notably, 2002 and 2003 have been called out and upon further review of those series, it’s pretty clear, the Lakers were “helped” into Game 7 during both of those Western Conference series by forces other than Phil’s coaching.

Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. Unlike the NBA refs, I’m just calling it like I see it.

Watch the games from this past Finals series and, with a straight face, tell anyone that he wasn’t outcoached by Doc Rivers ... again. Woulda shoulda coulda, yeah, but if Kendrick Perkins doesn’t go down depleting the Celtics bench and preventing them from having fresh legs late in a game they were up by 13 points, will you honestly want to make the argument the Celtics weren’t going to win? Do that at your own risk. (Pay no mind to the people mocking you in the background.)

It helps to be lucky as well as good and that’s a stroke of luck Phil was bestowed from the hardwood gods.

And speaking of Celtics, Red Auerbach was the greatest coach of all-time until Phil earned more rings as a coach. Red’s estate still has more in his name as coach and executive, but as we’ll continue to review in Part II of this hard-hitting expose, rings do not indicate everything. If they did, Robert Horry would be hanging out with Tommy Heinsohn talking about the eight rings they’ve each won.

First of all, didn’t Red invent the fast break, a play that, I believe, Phil Jackson put into his playbook? Secondly, Red coached fewer seasons than Phil. Thirdly, Red won about 99 percent of the time his team made the Finals (yes, he lost to the Hawks in the 50s). Jackson lost twice. His percentage is lower than Red’s. I’m sorry, but I’d take the guy with the higher percentage.

Fourthly, and this is not to be overlooked, Red did it with one team. Motivating the same team for years is no easy task. Ask any coach and they’ll tell you it’s hard not to run out of things to say to a team that is probably tired of his voice.

And fifthly, it’s a different league, different time now. With expansion, the league is watered down and the early-entry players present us with a game that’s less than stellar. (Why is David Stern talking about contraction as recently as yesterday?) It’s harder to win with fewer teams simply because they see each other all the time and knew each other’s strengths and weaknesses, game in and game out, year in and year out.

Dan Patrick characterized Phil properly -- not to say other people didn’t reiterate his phrasing, but I didn’t hear them -- he called Phil the “most-accomplished coach of all-time.” Fair, proper, no hyperbole, factual, and to the point. Bingo, DP! That characterization touches NOTHING BUT THE BOTTOM OF THE NET! (in true Dan Patrick delivery).

So let’s can the hyperbole that Phil Jackson is the greatest of all-time when he’s not even the greatest of his era. It’s a fun discussion to have, if you’ve got some time to kill, but don’t you think you could save your breath for a plan on how to make the league viable again?

Next week: Great, Not Greatest II – Kobe Bryant

Okay, so here it is, the Match Up of the Century! (again) This one is for all the marbles. The Big Three are making one final stand, a last chance to show their dominance. Kobe’s chasing Magic for five championships and the “greatest Laker of all-time” moniker, though playing with Shaq and having the allegations of Tim Donaghy render at least two of those championships iffy make this a moot point. Kobe will never be Magic. (And this from a guy who spent his childhood thinking Magic was overrated.)

The experts are all weighing in and forming their hypotheses based on sight analysis and statistics. And the fans are running with whichever argument best suits their cases.

Fans need to convince themselves of the outcome before it takes place. They call in to talk shows to say, “I’m really worried about the Lakers defensive lapses. Do you think they can beat the Celtics?” And if the talk show host responds in the affirmative, the caller will think, “Phew! I’m glad that’s decided” and they can sleep well at night.

But most of the arguments out there can be eliminated as they have nothing to do with the matter at hand. I’ll go over most of these and tell you who each point sees winning the series, why that is, the counterargument, and why it’s relevant or just a bunch of jibberjabber. (Yes, I said “jibberjabber.” I’m getting jazzed for the “A-Team” movie!)

So let’s begin:

Outcome: Lakers
Reason: Revenge
Chatter: The Lakers are upset that the Celtics beat them in 2008, in fact, humiliating them during the clinching game. Now, they want revenge.
Counterargument: Oh, now they want to win? In 2008, they were indifferent to winning? They weren’t sufficiently perturbed before? Why would you need excess motivation to win a championship?
Verdict: I do not wish to degrade my level of education and literary skills by just calling this argument stupid. Therefore, I will say it’s really stupid. When’s the last time you arm wrestled a guy who was stronger than you and actually won the rematch? If the Celtics are better, then no amount of wanting to win is going to help.

One parallel I find interesting is how the run of the last three years is similar to 1985 to1987. You might remember the peak of the Show Time Era when the two teams battled in 1985 leaving the Lakers victorious.

The next year, the Rockets snuck into the Finals, first beating the Lakers only to lose to the Celtics. But in 1987, the Lakers returned and caused a repeat of 1985.

Were the Celtics extra motivated to beat Los Angeles as revenge for 1985? Sure. Did it matter? No.

The Celtics believe the only reason the Lakers won last year was because Garnett was hurt. The Magic beat them and then went on to lose to the Lakers. Sound familiar?

Outcome: Lakers
Reason: Team Improvement
Chatter: The Lakers defense is better now with Ron Artest in the fold.
Counterargument: Yes, it’s better. The Celtics just beat the three teams that led the NBA in opponent’s field goal percentage. With or without Artest, the Celtics have already taken down tougher defenses.
Verdict: That same argument could be used to explain why the Celtics are going to win.

Outcome: Lakers
Reason: Age
Chatter: The Celtics are old. Garnett doesn’t look the same.
Counterargument: Garnett doesn’t look the same, but you have to figure a Hall of Famer like Garnett still matches up very well against Gasol. But the very claim acts as if the Lakers are composed of all these young pups. Their one superstar has logged almost as many minutes as the Big Three, if not more with his extracurricular play in international tournaments.
Verdict: Age is a push.

Outcome: Celtics
Reason: History
Chatter: This works on two fronts. First of all, this starting five, as currently constituted, has yet to lose a playoff series. Secondly, when the Lakers and Celtics face each other in the late spring, the Celtics win over 85% of the time.
Counterargument: This Lakers team has yet to lose a playoff series as well.
Verdict: If past history declared a winner, then the New York Jets would have almost 20 Super Bowl titles by now.

Outcome: Lakers
Reason: Coaching
Chatter: Phil Jackson is the greatest coach of all-time.
Counterargument: That is the dumbest argument of all-time. First off, Phil has already lost a Finals series to Doc Rivers. Wouldn’t that make Doc a better coach? Or perhaps Doc just had the better team, in which case Phil won past championships only because he had the better team. So if it’s the team that made Phil great, then one could reason that given the opportunity, Doc would’ve taken Michael and Scottie to six championships and then Shaq and Kobe to three more had he been there instead of the Zen Master. Counterargument: Michael didn’t win before Phil. Sure, but Scottie Pippen wasn’t his Sundance Kid yet. And you’ll add Shaq and Kobe didn’t win before Phil.
Countercounterargument: Yes, Del Harris is no Phil. But Gregg Popovich (a really valid argument for the actual best coach in the league) could have presumably taken Shaq and Kobe to three titles as well. He did it with less in San Antonio.
Verdict: Both coaches are excellent. Phil may be the most successful coach of all-time, but saying he’s the best is just for empty braggadocio and bar talk.

Outcome: Celtics
Reason: Pedigree
Chatter: The Celtics collectively have three Hall of Famers in their rotation. The Lakers have one, maybe two.
Counterargument: The Lakers can neutralize Pierce with Artest, Ray Allen with Kobe, and Garnett with Gasol.
Alternate counterargument: The Celtics are old. [See above.]
Verdict: The Lakers have been unable to neutralize all three on a consistent basis before. It’s not going to start this week as the Celtics are firing on all cylinders and see the prize put forth before them.

Outcome: Lakers
Reason: Home Cookin’
Chatter: This time, the Lakers have home court advantage.
Counterargument: A. The Celtics have taken home court advantage away from their last two opponents, who, it should be noted, finished with better records than the Lakers. B. The Celtics/Lakers series in 2008 didn’t go seven games because the Celtics won a game in Los Angeles.
Verdict: The Celtics may win in Los Angeles, but may also lose at home. That said, they are not intimidated by being in the visitors locker room.

Outcome: Celtics
Reason: Basketball is about matchups
Chatter: Going down the rosters, we see that Perkins can handle a hobbling Bynum, Kobe is better than Allen (but that’s closer than people think), Pierce is better than Artest, Gasol and Garnett may be a push, and that leaves the one dominating match up in the series – Rondo v. Fisher. If you want to further take it to the bench, Rasheed can handle Odom, Nate Robinson can counter Shannon Brown, and then Tony Allen can play Jordan Farmar, if that’s who it comes down to. That leaves Big Baby as someone off the bench the Lakers don’t have an answer for.
Counterargument: Even a hobbling Bynum is way better than Perkins.
Verdict: This argument makes a lot of sense. Basketball is about matchups (and shoddy refereeing and nonsensical scheduling). The only question is, who is hurt? Will the rest between games be enough for the Celtics? Can the Lakers play more physical than they did two years ago? Will it matter? Will the Big Four continue to alternate having big nights? Which Celtic role player will save the day like Nate Robinson did against the Magic?

(Okay, that’s more than one question.)

So soaking all this in like a Calgon bubble bath complete with rubber duckie, the picture becomes clearer, though still murky.

As I see it, the way the referees have been fix—er, calling the games these days, Perkins will be assessed one half of a double technical at some point this series (I’ll guess that it will be either Artest or Odom that does the honors) and thus, be forced to sit. If the Celtics can win the games Perkins plays, they’ll be the ones celebrating.

And if the Lakers can score more points than the Celtics on no fewer than four of the seven scheduled games, then they will win.

I hope this puts those minds at ease that have been held sleepless the last few nights waiting for the endless NBA Playoffs to continue. Now go tend to more pressing needs, like the electrical fire coming out of your wall socket due to the radio, television, and computer being plugged in at once while seeking as much info about the Finals as you can possibly get.

We’re getting close to the end of the NBA playoffs. You can tell because the Lakers flags are in full bloom in Los Angeles.

The phenomenon, known as “fakeritis” is like a sundial in the streets to the Gregorian calendar. They appear when the flowers are in bloom and the Lakers move deep into the playoffs. (Notice I didn’t say “make” the playoffs because that would be premature presentation. Sometimes you’ll see two on a car for those really, really die-hard fans.

With the Lakers in the conference championships, now natives start to show their fanhood by spending ten dollars on the chatchke, and proclaiming proudly, “I’m a huge fan. I watch both months of the NBA season. I’ll even watch all three quarters of each game.”

Let’s be honest, they are the sports fan equivalent of the high school senior showing up at the prom with toilet paper tucked into his pants hanging over his belt. They’re an embarrassment, but they don’t quite realize it, mainly because they keep getting rewarded for their efforts in the form of championships and contending teams.

Cleveland fans brave the wind, snow, and, well, living in Cleveland and what do they have to show for it? Bubkes!

All the other fan bases are sick of the disproportionate success-to-fanliness ratio for the Lakers. (Well, not Portland. Nothing really rattles them. They’re just so nice.)

Truth be told, no one really hates the Lakers. Aside from Kobe, the team seems to have a bunch of good eggs on it and Ron Artest is a nice sideshow, a poor man’s Rodman, so to speak. No one really cares about them at all. It’s the fans that get the people’s goat. Mainly from the use of the word “fan.” It seems a misappropriation of the term when describing them.

And what’s weird is, Dodgers fans don’t have the same reputation so, though there’s an overlap, there isn’t the same collective personality at Chavez Ravine as there is at the Staples Center.

Now, before you decry haterism, I’m trying to help here. Instead of just random stereotypes (like the one above), I intend to prove this epidemic with the help of first-hand experiences among living breathing representatives of Laketown.

Yes, it’s easy to generalize. I’m from the East Coast and we’re a more passionate fan base overall (though we have our own issues), but each fan base is comprised of individuals and this is about those that we mock as “fakers.”

Over the past few years, I’ve been surrounded by Lakers fans in “the Southland” as they call it; I’ve gone to games, I’ve spoken to them, and I’ve listened to radio. That’s a good place to start, because much of the attitude of the fans comes from sports talk show hosts.

Let’s deconstruct a typical talk radio show, such as that on the East Coast – there is a host that makes a point and opens it up to the audience who may call to revel in a good win, but there is always a segment of the population that approaches a topic this way – “Yes, we may be good, but there are still problems that concern us.” It’s the cynicism inherent in that region of the country.

But listen to a Lakers station and it is decidedly more “glass is totally full – “Here’s why our team is so great.” And then after they’re done pouring the bottomless cup of adulation, they have a guest call in – “Calling in now, we have so-and-so ... why don’t you tell us why our team is so great?

It’s such an LA ritual, the abundant praising. It’s almost like an infomercial.

“Hey, Gary?”

“Hi, Bob.”

“What if I told you there was a team that shot threes, pounded the ball inside, had the best closer in the game, had the best coach, and was unstoppable, what would you say?”

“I’d be dubious, Bob.”

“No, it’s true. The Los Angeles Lakers are that team. Order now and you can be a fan of the greatest team in the history of mankind. We’ll send you a team flag, a pamphlet with the names of a few of the greats on it, and another team flag.”

“Wow! That’s an incredible offer!”

It seeps into the culture of the fans. Case in point, the day after the Lakers won the trophy in 2009, a friend told me that the team would three-peat. That’s right, they’d win the next two! And he was so sure of this, that he bet me ... five dollars. Who does that?!

I felt like Randolph and Mortimer Duke’s butler in “Trading Places” after they gave him his Christmas Bonus. “Ooo, five dollars. Now I can go to the movies ... by myself.”

That’s misplaced confidence. But they weren’t always so confident; hence, their reputation for being fair-weather fans. The only problem is, they don’t understand the word.

Sometime around 2006, I heard this exchange on the frequency modulation dial:

Caller: "I believe I have the right to not root for my team when they’re not winning. If they’re not putting the best product on the court, I’m not being a fair-weather fan if I don’t show up to endorse that."

I waited for the talk show host to politely explain to him that he was wrong, that he could protest in other ways (See: wear a paper bag on his head at the game) or at least continue to support them from afar, but what he got was this:

Host: "You’re absolutely right."

WHAT?!

Actually, what he’s doing is the definition of “fair-weather fans,” guys. (At that point, the FCC should’ve revoked the host’s broadcasting license.)

These talk show hosts are enablers. I’m sure thousands of Lakers supporters driving around in their cars were nodding their heads in agreement at that time.

It’s this sort of disrespect for the unwritten rules of one’s fantitude that contribute to the hatredity towards them. They just don’t get it.

In 2008, when the Celtics were about to meet the Lakers in the NBA Finals, a Lakers fan, sure of his team’s ability, bet me that they would take the best-of-seven series in three games. (He was not kidding.) Though that would have been quite impressive, I didn’t have the heart to take that bet.

I did, however, take a different bet from another guy who bet the Lakers because, in his words, they had “the best defense in the league.” Evidently, he didn’t see the stats, which had them 11th ... or watch the games. That bet, I took.

Where did he get the idea the Lakers had a great defense? Maybe the talk show hosts or maybe it was the shills who called in to validate the phony claim. Either way, it was easy money.

Or maybe it’s their coach. Phil Jackson continues to whine about the star of each new team his team is facing in the upcoming round. First, Kevin Durant got away with too many fouls and now Steve Nash carries the ball when he runs.

“Hi, Phil, come over here, I’d like you to meet Kobe Bryant.” “Kobe, Phil, Phil, Kobe.”

It gets extremely frustrating when Lakers fans try to pull the smug card. We’re talking about a team, who, according to disgraced-referee Tim Donaghy’s book, were handed at least two championships, or at least the opportunity to play for them, and their fans try to bring up inequities against them. (The Lakers technically have 13 titles, while referee Dick Bavetta has two.)

Even Yankees fans know not to bash other teams for signing free agents. The only time they use it is when Boston fans try to bash them on spending and so they bring up Daisuke Matsuzaka. (That is a road uniform-gray area as the Red Sox didn’t technically overspend to sign him, but only to talk to him, which may seem ridiculous, but in actuality, it’s kinda ridiculous, but may have been necessary.)

Anyway, the knock on Lakers fans is legendary. They do get there late and leave early. I was at a game when they were down by three with 14 seconds left. Not since Charleton Heston tried to escape Yul Brenner have I seen such a mass Exodus. (I’m not referring to Jack, of course, as he had left long before halftime.) And the Lakers had the ball!

I’m not saying Boston fans are perfect, but you can have a decent basketball conversation with them. I mean, Lakers fans try to be like other fans. They talk trash, they look to point out the traveling violation on the other team, they clap in unison, etc. And with a team that wins, it helps their cause. They see no reason to improve.

Call it haterism, call it a fountain of bile being spewed, but it is what it is. I’ll open it up to the masses on this one. Although, please, for the love of Bill Russell, if Lakers fans are going to post, please say something intelligent. Your team is not the best defense in the league, Kobe is not better than Michael Jordan, and he certainly doesn’t get called for more travels and fouls than any other superstar.

There, I’ve said my piece, I can go back to complaining about deficiencies in the Celtics game even as they start the Eastern Conference finals against the Magic and whining that they shouldn’t have signed Rasheed Wallace.

The NBA Playoffs begin Saturday night and the big question is whether two of the pre-season favorites-cum-faders have been cruising into May before hitting their strides by simply “flicking the switch.”

For those of you unfamiliar with this “switch,” it’s quite a technological marvel. If you don’t have one, I’d recommend you look into acquiring one. In fact, I’ve heard Apple is working on mass producing an economical version for the consumer – the iSwitch.

In the realm of basketball, the switch heals injuries, it sharpens shooting eyes, it tightens defenses. The switch knocks away in-bounds passes, it fills passing lanes, it executes pick-and-rolls with precision. The switch piles on points, it fills highlight reels, it rises above the rim. In summation, it takes no prisoners.

But some teams don’t have a switch. It’s only the good teams teams that have won before, that have a switch. They know what it takes to win, unlike those other teams like the 1995 Houston Rockets or the 1999 San Antonio Spurs.

In fact, along with a championship trophy, these victors are given a switch by the league. It’s one of those hush-hush jobs, though, as the league owns only a thin supply of switches and they don’t want irrelevant teams like the Clippers begging for one. (That’s why the league frequently engineers the Lakers winning, because they already have a switch.)

The Lakers are one of the teams people are questioning. This batch of superstars can play in regular-season, totally over-rated, sluggish mode and then they can shift to bulldozer, juggernaut, high-flying legends mode. The transition from one to the other is seamless, usually done with the flick of a finger.

But wait, haven’t the Lakers been sucking it up lately because they’ve been banged up, uninspired and out-of-sync?

No, of course not, silly person!

So the fact that Kobe has way too many miles on his treads and Andrew Bynum can’t keep from getting hurt and Ron Artest isn’t the same defender he once was has nothing to do with their mediocre play the last few months?

Nope, they just haven’t flicked the switch yet. They’re waiting for the playoffs.

The Celtics are another team that invokes mention of the device. They’ve had their own mechanism before any other team did. The ol’ Auerbach Switch is a bit clunky, but still works. (They’ve since upgraded to Auerbach 10.0.)

The first time it was used was in 1969. The last hurrah for Bill Russell found a team with a 48-34 record winning the championship. Why? Need we go over this again?

It is for this reason that Boston fans needn’t worry as Kevin Garnett’s knee will make a full recovery and we’ll once again see the 2007-08 Defensive Player of the Year dominating opponents, but only once the playoffs start.

The Celtics figured out how to win together early in the season. They started 20-4. Once they got the handle on that, they put it on cruise control. Why waste your energy against the Knicks and the Wizards of the world? And now that it’s playoff time, I’m sure they’ll just revert back to November form. (Back when they could win at home.)

The same goes for the Lakers who still finished atop the Western Conference, though went 15-12 over the last two months of the season. They didn’t need to show off any more. That’s just bad sportsmanship, right? All those shots they missed to lose games were all part of the beauty of the switch. When it’s flicked, those shots go in.

So what does this switch run on? Is it gas-powered? If they’re like the Heat, who have been on a tear lately, they may run out of gas come the second round. Or perhaps it’s run by solar paneling installed under Sasha Vujacic's hair. That’s part of the mystery of it.

I, too, have a switch. I’m just waiting for that moment to flick it so that I may get Jessica Biel to go on a date with me. Just laying low for now, that’s what I’m doing. I haven’t been working my “A” game yet. Yes sir, but when I’m ready, I’m gonna flick that switch and watch out! Buddy Love is only one flick away.

Although it’s quite possible it might not work. I think I was supposed to store it horizontally in a cool, dark place like a bottle of wine. I think it’s because of some chemical that calibrates the magnetic doo-hickeys in the thing. I’m sure the iSwitch has taken the necessary steps to rectify such glitches.

Nevertheless, I know we’ll see the Celtics and Lakers in the NBA Finals again this year ... assuming they took greater care in storing their switches than I did.

Mark McGwire, you’ve come out and said that you used steroids. Well, you’ll excuse me if I don’t believe you, Big Mac. I mean, up until recently, you said you didn’t use them.

You’re telling me that for years, almost a decade of speculation, you were lying to us and only for the past few days, you’re telling the truth? You’re saying that the whole “I don’t want to go into the past” thing was something you thought would help your case if you were really a user? You’re saying the Cardinals would hire a hitting coach who was only hitting as well as he did because of an illegal substance? Yeah, right. I don’t think so.

Sounds like you’re just trying to jump on the “Apology Tour” bandwagon. It’s a great scam. I can’t blame you. It gets you national exposure, whether it’s a seat with Katie Couric or Oprah; a shot at the Hall of Fame; perhaps some more endorsement deals after a brief interruption as “outraged” sponsors pull back; and the potential for book deals and speaking engagements as a “reformed” user.

It’s worked for Kobe, A-Rod, and will work for Tiger. You were wise to give this a shot.

But your whole explanation needs work. Did you really expect us to believe you when you said you only used performance-enhancers to get back on the field, even though that would mean you kept breaking down because you were using them? Ha! I did a classic spit take when I read that, which was embarrassing because I was sitting in the barber chair at the time. (I’m going to have to find a new barber as he was none too pleased.)

I mean, you are, after all, a college graduate. You must’ve known this statement would raise some red flags.

Tony La Russa never thought you were on steroids. He just thought you worked harder than anyone else, as if pushed beyond one’s human capabilities by unnatural means. The man’s a genius.

Of course, I am always skeptical of La Russa since the man separates his name. What’s going on there? Is “La” his middle name? Was there a mix up in the hospital’s maternity ward as there was with former Houston Oilers wideout Haywood Jeffires, pronounced Jeffries?

Mark, we watched your career. We know you had good years and bad years. It’s quite reasonable to assume that your best years yielded more home runs than anyone before you ... two years in a row. What’s not mentioned by the media is how pitchers wanted to surrender tape measure blasts to you. They wanted their name associated with you, the home run champ.

It is feasible to think you could have taken something as they were pretty prevalent in baseball during his career, but if you’re gonna spend a decade planning your defense, do a little research first.

For instance, you now say you took steroids, but they didn’t enhance your home run power. See, if you truly had taken them, you would’ve seen a marked (pardon the pun, if there is one) improvement in your numbers. You probably could’ve hit 80 or 90 in 1998. That would’ve given the American public quite a thrilling race to witness. In fact, you should be apologizing to us for missing this golden opportunity to really set the bar.

And blaming the “Steroid Era.” C’mon, Mark, that doesn’t wash, baby! By the timeline of your career and chronology of events, it was only the Steroid Era because of your now self-admitted use. You would have been the trend setter.

Finally, I think the most pointed flaw to your story is Jose Canseco’s report that he personally injected you with steroids. We all know that Canseco is a no-good liar, out to make a quick buck. He lies more than the imported Persian rug in your foyer purchased with money you earned using your God-given, natural ability. (Well, except for the stuff he’s said that’s turned out to be absolutely true.) So you can’t believe him.

Steroids did not enhance your home run power. You were given that gift by “the man upstairs,” as you said, who we can assume is God, unless you literally owned a condo underneath Victor Conte’s place, which would change things.

With all your contradictions, however, I know you’re as innocent today as you were in 2005 when you sat in front of Congress and translated English for Sammy Sosa. And you can rest assured that if I had a vote for the Hall of Fame, I still wouldn’t vote for you, not based on any one thing you did or didn’t do, but because I really think you were a one-note player. (Hey, if it makes you feel better, I’m not voting for Dave Kingman or Greg Lusinski either.)

As I was sitting here trying to decide if the best club to use in attacking your husband is, in fact, a 3-iron (I would’ve suggested the sand wedge to Mrs. Woods for more lift), I thought I’d take this opportunity to make a plea to the powers that be asking that they install regulations preventing the media and talking heads from using idiotic phrases that insult us as an audience. It’s gotten to the point where I can’t take it anymore.

This first one has been bugging me since A-Rod returned to the Yankees line-up this past spring. One of the play-by-play announcers doing an NBA game teased us with this gem: “Coming up at halftime, you’ll never guess what A-Rod did in his first at-bat today.”

Uh, he hit a home run?

He’s a power-hitter. That’s what he does. He hits home runs. Not really a stretch there. Now, if it turned out that A-Rod had gone up to bat sucking his thumb, then galloped around the field using the bat as a horsie, then no, I would never have guessed that.

We’ve seen a lot during our decades of televised sports. Not a whole lot is going to surprise us. A home run in his first at-bat? Pretty common, actually. Give us some credit, will you please?

Speaking of which, the word “unbelievable” needs to be outlawed. “He threw the ball up and over the backboard right into the hoop! Unbelievable!” You mean like Larry Bird and Isiah Thomas and Kobe Bryant, etc. have done?

It’s difficult, yes, but I believe it can happen. Like Inigo Montoya said in “The Princess Bride” when Vezzini claims it’s inconceivable to find the Dread Pirate Roberts continuing to climb even after the rope had been cut – “I do not think that word means what you think it means.”

And in similar fashion to “Unbelievable!” this term “breaks out of his slump,” used far too often in baseball.

For lack of more foresight, broadcasters revel at the opportunity to use this trite little idiom, which is embarrassing because it shows they don’t quite know what a slump is. A batter is mired in a slump. Let’s say he has one hit in his last 30 at-bats. Then he goes 3-for-4 in one particular game. Announcers are quick to pounce! “Well, he broke out of his slump today.”

Do you think his agent is going to be as quick to mention this week’s sampling when it comes to negotiating the player’s next contract? “Remember when he went on that tear and raised his average from .033 all the way up to .117? That’s a guy you need on your team.” Might I suggest using the phrase, “he’s sucking less than he was” instead?

How about doing away with anything relating to “Keys to the game”?

Do we need to see this? There really is only one key to the game and that is scoring more than your opponent does. By the time you’ve posted two or three things that could possibly transpire, we’ve already forgotten what you’ve said because the exact opposite has already occurred.

Darren Woodson spouted this a few weeks ago on an NFL segment – “The Patriots need to protect Tom Brady in order to win this week.” Is this as opposed to “The key for the Patriots this week is to let the other team sack Brady as much as possible. If they can allow 20 or more sacks, they should pull this one out.”

Over 10 percent unemployment and he has a job?! Can’t Nancy Pelosi introduce a bill on the floor of the House that suspends him from work until he can say something the foreign-speaking cab driver can’t come up with?

Though it’s actually not as bad as what’s said during such as, “That man is a football player.”

This is also known as pulling a Madden. Fortunately, with Big John retired, Dan Dierdorf has taken to using this one for Dierdorf is the new Madden, only without the insight and amusing speech patterns and likeability.

So wait, you’re telling me that the big guy down there on the field in the middle of a football game wearing all those pads and helmet, slinging the – what do you call that? a football? – slinging the football is a football player? I tend to doubt that. I believe, and I’m not the expert you are, that the man to whom you are referring is what’s called an actuary.

Ha! Football player. Yeah, sure.

There’s no question about it, that’s a dumb statement, but coming pretty close is the phrase “no question about it.”

I like to pass the time while I’m watching sports highlights and commentary by myself by playing a little drinking game. ([sigh] I’m so lonely.) Every time someone answers a question with the phrase, “Well, no question about it?” you drink. I tell you, if you want to get blotto in no time, this is the game for you. I frequently end up passed out in a puddle of my own drool until the rooster outside my window starts crowing. (I still regret getting the only apartment in the city with a landlord that owns a rooster.) And the sad part is that the TV is still on Sportscenter, which runs on a continuous loop throughout the evening so I have to play the game all over again.

“We bring in our ‘resident expert’ to ask him, a man who’s never ever met Joe Flacco, is Flacco nervous about facing the vaunted Pittsburgh Steelers defense today?”

“Oh, no question about it.”

Okay, stop right there! First off, I was watching. The man was talking before you asked a question! It had all the elements of a question – the open-endedness of the words, the slight pitching up of the voice at the end, the question mark at the end, ... the reason we brought you in in the first place!

How about if this happened: “Oh, no question about it.”

“Great, so you’re useless then ... Let’s go out to Mongo on the field and ask him the same question. Maybe we’ll get an answer this time.”

There’s one last thing I’d like to see done away with and that is the “guarantee.”

“I guarantee a win for the Nuggets against the Lakers.”

Blockbuster used to guarantee their popular new releases would be stocked on the shelves for you to enjoy. However, if they weren’t, they offered a free movie or something like that.

Think about that. They guaranteed it would be there. And it’s not. So it’s not exactly a successful guarantee.

You can’t guarantee something that’s out of your control. You can, however, guarantee something like, if the Nuggets lose to the Lakers, I will stick salt-water taffy up my nose right here at the news desk.

That will be an exception to the ban.

So I understand the implementation of these rules might severely curb my inebriating past time, but perhaps I’ll just have to find different criteria to play such as taking a drink each time Eric Mangini switches his quarterback or Rasheed Wallace gets a technical foul or Mercury Morris acts like he’s still relevant.

Hmm. Looks like I’ve got to make a run to the liquor store.

I want to congratulate the Los Angeles Lakers on a hard-fought battle through the NBA playoffs. Over the past few years, I’ve had the opportunity to get to know their fans. And may I say, they are adorable. They try so hard to be good fans. It’s like watching a squirrel on a jet ski. (Okay, maybe not exactly like it, but there’s a sense of amusement with both.)

There’s a reason that the team is called the “Fakers” and other fans hate them. It isn’t because they’re the second-most celebrated franchise in the NBA. Boston has the greater history and more championships, but fans don’t hate Boston nearly as much as they hate the Lakers. (Though as a Boston backer, I know we can get pretty annoying with our self-adulation.)

It’s not the team. Who can hate Pau Gasol? He’s so ... uh, gangly. Okay, Kobe’s hatable, but he’s definitely almostas good as he thinks he is.

Nope, that's not it either. So what is it that makes them despised more than any other hardwood ballers?

It’s one aspect of the team --- the fans. And it’s not any one thing in particular, it’s just, well, ... everything.

On the outside, they act like typical fans. They make predictions. One fan told me the Lakers would beat the Magic in three. In three! A best-of-seven series in three! That’s so cute.

They complain about the referees. Mainly, this comes from mimicking Phil Jackson who complains about the referees so much, I’m not sure he isn’t using it for a euphemism about the government’s handling of the financial crisis or something other than actual refereeing. I’m actually shocked he didn’t complain about the refs during the celebration after the clinching game. Does he go into a restaurant where a waiter asks him, “Is everything here satisfactory, sir?” and say, “Are you kidding me? We haven’t had one call go our way the entire meal!”

And this is a man who coaches a team whose superstar has elbows that are actually wanted in several states for attempted murder!!! Phil Jackson’s a bright guy. He complains about the refs to gain an edge in the series. Sure, he gets fined, but he makes that money back in book deals. The fans haven’t realized this yet. Simply delightful.

They make comparisons. Talk of Phil Jackson being better than Red Auerbach started years ago, but now it’s “been proven.” Well, except for the fact that any conversation requiring the comparison of two different eras is inane and pointless. Marvelously naive.

They rationalize their fandom. I heard a fan call into a radio show and declare that he was not a fair weather fan, but rather a great fan because he didn’t think he had to root for the team if they were bad. He had, in fact, earned the right to expect a good team and should only root for them when they were good. And the talk show host agreed with him. It’s endearing. Don’t you want to just pinch their cheeks?

(Of course, if you want to get technical, that’s actually the definition of a fair weather fan. But we won't go there.)

They’re sore losers. Upon Boston winning last year, one Lakers fan told me the only reason Boston won was because Kevin McHale traded Kevin Garnett to the Celtics as a favor to his former team. Quite an observant little pip, he was. I didn’t have the heart to tell him who Jerry West was and how Pau Gasol got to the Lakers. It would have ruined his whole outlook.

And they’re sore winners. Anyone who didn’t root for their team is a “sore loser” and a “Laker Hater.”

They spread themselves thin. If the Clippers make the playoffs, they start following them as well. Kids will be kids, huh?

They make stuff up. One Lakers fan last year said that his team had the best defense in the league last year. Just don’t look at league stats. They would only confuse you. Trite!

They take quotes out of context to validate their points. During one particularly awfully officiated game versus Denver, announcer Jeff Van Gundy remarked how the refs were doing a great job. One Lakers fan pounced on that to me. Guess he missed the moment earlier in the same game where Van Gundy bashed the refs for a missed call. Ah, so spunky!

They put flags on their cars to announce their allegiances ... and that they had eight bucks lying around. It’s just that the majority of them don’t come up until the Finals begin. You guys are certainly welcome to start using them earlier in the playoffs. No one will get mad.

Oh, and they get feisty. One newspaper columnist made his case for the better team in an article about how Boston fans were not as good looking. Oof! You really showed those fans. There’s a “Key to the Game” I don’t anyone else had noticed.

Those are the Lakers fans. Take them or leave them.

It’s not that they’re totally to blame. There’s a lot more going on in Los Angeles to catch one’s interest. How many babies does Angelina Jolie have now? What did “The Watchman” gross? The Lakers really don’t have the cache of other subjects.

But the fans really do try. They’ll make it to two, maybe three quarters of a game during the season. (They’re similar to Dodgers fans in that sense. I went to a game at Dodger Stadium last week in which the Dodgers were down 3-1 and the stadium emptied in the seventh inning. Sure, their excuse is that they wanted to beat traffic. But when half the stadium leaves at the same time, you’re not beating traffic. You are the traffic.)

And there are fans that live, sleep and breathe Lakers, but that’s not what elevates them in the eyes of other fans to the status of good fans. Lakers fans are like in the minor leagues of fandom. A couple of solid seasons strung together or maybe an injury or demotion to a fan base such as Portland and they might just reach the big leagues.

But all seriousness aside, it is nice to see them trying. Los Angelenos, congratulations! You can hang your flags now to show everyone that you’re fans of the team ... or to just show them that you had eight dollars.