One of the first feature pieces I ever wrote for the Washington Post was about Kobe Bryant. It was November 2002, the Lakers were coming off their third straight NBA title, and No. 8 – as he was then – was starting to emerge from the shadow of Shaquille O’Neal.
As part of the story, I asked Phil Jackson to compare Kobe with Michael Jordan. The fact that I posed the question gives you a sense of how I – and many other people – perceived Bryant at the time.
Phil, as one might have expected, offered what I saw as a politic response:
“A lot of people throw . . . Michael’s cape on Kobe, and it’s not fair to either one of those players,” said Jackson. “Yet they both have this competitive standard that everybody can recognize, a competitive level they carry themselves with on the court.”
The comparisons might not have been fair. Still, in 2002, people were constantly making them, and to a large degree — and I was not the only one who held this viewpoint — Kobe was the cause.
As I wrote back then (and I promise to stop quoting myself after this):
Since leaping from high school to the NBA, he has been routinely hyped and rejected as the second coming of Michael Jordan. For much of that time, Bryant has not only tried to live up to the comparison, but perhaps, encouraged it.
The fact is that whether by coincidence or conscious effort, the similarities between Bryant and Jordan’s mannerisms are unmistakable. The steady, loping strides as Bryant drives the ball upcourt, tongue wagging; the backward strut, head nodding, after he buries a jump shot; even the timbre and rhythm of his speech when he addresses the media are all vintage Jordan. And with Bryant’s new bulk, the physical similarity between the two — they are the same height and virtually the same weight — is impossible to ignore.
At age 24, Kobe was remarkably like Jordan — and somehow, not him, akin to a musical prodigy, capable of playing any sonata the seasoned concert pianist could, yet somehow, lacking the intangible quality that distinguished the genius from the flawless imitator.
At the same time, there seemed to be no “real” Kobe Bryant. He said all the right things in ads for shoes and Sprite, yet even in one-on-one interviews, one never got the sense of him, of a voice and personality that made you feel, “Ah, now I’m speaking to Kobe Bryant.” It felt more like you were talking to someone “playing” the next Jordan. Something was missing, and there was little to suggest that it would ever be found.
Six years later, things are radically different.
THE BEGINNING
To me, Kobe’s evolution from star mimic to true superstar was catalyzed, strangely enough, by his arrest on rape charges in Colorado prior to the start of the 2003 season.
The distasteful nature of that event notwithstanding, it had the effect of obliterating the contrived, plastic, clean-cut image of Kobe that existed at the time. Every major sponsor either dropped or suspended their deals with him. Overnight, he went from NBA poster child to persona non grata, a basketball savant assailed by the public on all sides for his conduct off the court.
The notion of being the next Michael Jordan — and granted, I’m speculating here — was likely far from the forefront of his mind.
In a 2003 column entitled, “Is Bryant’s best behind him with the burden he carries?” USA Today columnist Jon Saraceno wrote:
This season will test Bryant like no year, or defender, has. The mounting anxiety on him will make every night feel like a seventh game. Maybe Bryant thinks resuming his occupation will be good therapy, but I wonder what will happen before, during and after games.
I imagine that even posh four-star hotels can feel like prisons to a celebrity under siege. Bryant may never serve a day behind bars, but that doesn’t mean he won’t understand what Alcatraz was like, even if his solitary confinement includes room service and a cluster of bodyguards.
And can you imagine the catcalls from fans on the road in places such as Sacramento, Philadelphia, Boston, Dallas and, of course, Denver?
“Playing the game of basketball is not difficult for me,” he said. “Going through what we’ve been going through is difficult.”
The column concluded with this sentiment:
Regardless of the outcome, I can’t help but wonder if this young man, whose life once seemed so idyllic, can ever be the same player or person.
I don’t know.
I’m not sure Kobe does, either.
Saraceno was right. The Kobe Bryant we knew — or didn’t really know — was gone, and the question was, who would replace him?
A WINNER IN PURGATORY
The 2003 season saw the end of the Kobe-Shaq era, and what followed it was a period that, it seems to me, perfectly reflected Kobe Bryant, the player. Ostensibly, he was the new leader of the team, yet it quickly became clear that No. 8 had no real experience leading a team. His impressions of leadership reminded me of his impressions of MJ — he said all of the right things, but you still found yourself thinking that he’d rather be playing with two replicas of himself than four other players. His first season, Los Angeles finished 34-48. The following two, the Lakers exited the playoffs in the first round.
Interestingly enough, as these years were passing — and I have to admit, I hadn’t thought about this until now — Kobe seemed less and less like he was affecting Michael Jordan. All of the physical tics seemed to vanish.
Instead, as Los Angeles turned in multiple subpar seasons, Bryant began to cultivate a profound disdain for losing possibly unmatched by any basketball player in the world, past or present — with the exception, ironically, of Michael Jordan — and in time, that disdain transformed into anger.
In the summer of 2007, that anger boiled over, and Kobe Bryant demanded a trade. Not long after, in a parking lot in Orange County, he unleashed a profanity-laden tirade against teammate Andrew Bynum.
My initial response to both acts was disbelief. How could he lash out like this against a franchise that stood by him unhesitatingly through his entire ordeal in Colorado? On the one hand, it seemed like the height of betrayal, and to a degree, it still does.
Looking at it another way, however, these seem like the first genuine acts — misguided, though they were — of an emerging leader. And what we were hearing, for the very first time, was Kobe Bryant finding his voice.
It was impossible to know that at the time, but in the months that have passed, Kobe Bryant’s actions have proven exactly what kind of player, teammate and employee he truly is. His effort has been unparalleled — he is currently playing with a dislocated finger, and will be for the duration of the season, yet he continues to be unstoppable at both ends of the floor. While he was wrong about Bynum and his teammates — before his injury, Bynum was playing phenomenally, and the quality of Los Angeles’ bench has been one of the stunning stories of the 2007-08 season — one could convincingly argue that Kobe’s trade demand and tirade were what shook up the Lakers franchise.
A LEADER IS BORN
The popular take in early MVP conversations is that Kobe deserves it. I agree, but not for the reasons cited by columnists like the Los Angeles Times Bill Plaschke. To Plaschke, Bryant is finally making his teammates better, and thus, should get the award:
He doesn’t scream at his teammates so much anymore. He doesn’t ignore them during moments of frustration anymore.
He has helped turn Sasha Vujacic into a weapon, and Farmar into a pest, and, man, considering he once wanted the guy traded, he has been huge in the development of Andrew Bynum.
In Plaschke’s column, Lakers’ coach Phil Jackson agrees:
“You can see the emphasis in Kobe’s game to get other people involved and to make the rest of his teammates better,” Jackson said.
Earlier in the year, I argued that the entire notion of “making one’s teammates better,” at least as far as it’s commonly meant, is nonsense, the NBA equivalent to giving an NFL quarterback too much of the credit or blame for winning or losing. Yes, Kobe’s teammates are better, but it’s not because he’s suddenly passing them the ball where he wasn’t before. A season ago, he gave them the ball plenty.
They’re better because for the first time, they’re matching his effort.
They’re better because Sasha Vujacic is making open threes where he missed them all last year. They’re better because Jordan Farmar isn’t a rookie, is stronger, and has a much better sense of the pro game. They’re better because Derek Fisher is giving Los Angeles and Kobe trustworthy veteran leadership. They’re better because Lamar Odom is healthy and thriving, now that he’s free of the pressure of being the second scoring option. They’re better because Andrew Bynum is a freak of nature. And they’re better because, in what I refer to as the Immaculate Transaction, they somehow picked up Pau Gasol from the Memphis Grizzlies for nothing.
Kobe’s teammates are playing better, and because of that, he has more confidence in them, and looks for them more often. In turn, Kobe’s growing confidence emboldens his teammates to play even better. It’s a two-way street. If you don’t believe me, watch what Kobe does on a night when no one else can find their shot (which is now unlikely, given the Lakers’ multitude of weapons). I guarantee you that the man who makes his teammates better would still shoot 40 times.
If you want to credit Kobe Bryant with something, credit him with putting his reputation on the line to light the proverbial inferno under the entire Lakers franchise. Credit him for continuing to push everyone, from players to coaches to management to ownership, to demand nothing less than what he demands of himself — every last ounce of effort in the pursuit of a championship.
And that, to me, is what ultimately makes him worthy of an MVP award. It’s also a clear indication that Kobe Bryant, a leader in his own right, has arrived.
IN RETROSPECT
Thinking back to that 2002 feature I wrote, I think that I — just like Phil Jackson suggested — had unfair expectations of Kobe Bryant. Yes, he did seem like more of a Jordan emulator than the superstar he has involved into; then again, he was 24 years old. Most 24 year-olds, whether or not they have superhuman athletic or intellectual or musical abilites, have an underwhelming sense of who they are. We, as sportswriters and fans, are applying the same grossly critical eye to LeBron James now. In a decade, we’ll all look back and laugh.
To me, Kobe Bryant circa 2008 is transforming into every bit the player and leader that Michael Jordan was, and I think this season will bear that out.
Who is the best of all-time? Does it matter, really? In his prime, MJ left you in awe every time he stepped onto the floor. Kobe is the same way now.
A jazz musician once told me that he began his career imitating a hero because, “It’s better to sound like somebody than nobody.”
In time, of course, that musician — like Kobe Bryant — became a somebody as well
The Evolution of the Los Angeles Lakers’ Kobe Bryant: (article from sports writer)?nba live 2005
Great article, shows the evolution of not only the player but of the media and fan bases perception of them. When they are young we want and expect too much from them, then when they grow up a little we look back and realize at some point the greatness happened. Let's stop comparing players versus players and saying one has to "suck" because he is not perceived as good as the other, but sit back and enjoy while they still have time left on the court.
The Evolution of the Los Angeles Lakers’ Kobe Bryant: (article from sports writer)?nba update ,nba teams
great article! i agree completely, with kobe (30y.old next season) we tend to appreciate him more. we now expect him to sit back a little bit more, get his team-mates involved and then come in to do what he does best, make the big shots.
Kobe is now his own person, at the moment looks like an athlete at the point in his career where he says ' i aint going nowhere now, so lets do the best we can do and win more' he really wants that 4th ring. it will definitely be the first ring he won as the leader all by himself. 1 that he will fully deserve, and unfairly get all the credit for, just like how a quarterback does in the nfl. i just want to see him win that ring, it will be the best thing to happen this season..
Kobe would have to win 6 more rings to have 5 more rings then Shaq, so either the Lakers have to win 6 or Kobe has to win 1 more with another team.
How the hell did you post so many word, I thought it only worked to 1000words or something!!!
I don't have time to read this so, to sum up: Kobe is the best, LeBron always second, L.A wiin 5 more championships, Kobe 5 more rings than Shaq!
