Even Kobe Bryant's own picture thinks Kobe isn't playing that well.
Superstars in any sport aren’t without faults. In fact, all superstars in any sport suffer from incredible bouts of narcissism or, at the very least, insane stubbornness.
Save for a very rare few, the superstars who can’t come to grips with their declining talent after years of physical dominance in their arena are the ones most detrimental to their team’s success. The most popular, and recent, example of someone in such a dubious position was that of Brett Favre. Because despite a decade and a half of incredible durability and dominance that is stuff of legends, his finals years as a pro — save for his once-thought-to-be last stand with the Minnesota Vikings in 2008 — ended up hurting the franchises he played for, at least for the seasons that he was signed on as the starting quarterback.
Despite leading the 2007 Green Bay Packers to the NFC title game, his late-game decision-making (a game-ending interception) propelled the New York Giants to one of the greatest upsets in Super Bowl history. Overall poor play (and a league-leading 22 inteceptions) kept the 2008 New York Jets from the postseason. Even his career-year in 2009 with the Minnesota Vikings ended on a sour note, with the Vikes missing out on an opportunity to clinch a Super Bowl berth when Brett threw a late-game interception within field goal range (that would have put Minnesota ahead late in the fourth quarter), forcing the game into overtime where the New Orleans Saints would kick their way into Super Bowl XLIV. And, seriously, do we have to mention his 2010 campaign, arguably the worst in his career?
Throughout Brett Favre’s career, he was considered to be in the upper echelon of quarterbacks nearly every year, mainly thanks to his confidence in his own abilities. However, the twilight of his career saw an epic collapse, which was, ironically, due to his over-confidence in his abilities as a quarterback. No longer could he gunsling his team to victory, instead gunslinging games away from his teams.
Of course, knowing Brett Favre’s history — I know, I know; probably more than you needed to know — is essential to understanding how Kobe Bryant of the Los Angeles Lakers is taking the same path.
For over a decade, Kobe’s dominance in L.A. was unquestioned. Sure, he was — and always has been — one of the most hated athletes during that time and, sure, he was selfish early in his career (namely at the beginning of Phil Jackson’s second tenure with the Lakers, although the talent level around him warranted such selfish play), but it was difficult to argue when he was single-handedly accumulating wins for the Lakers. His play down the stretch of games and the inability to guard him when he began sinking 20-footers with a hand in his face (and an arm on his elbow) was all thanks to his confidence in his abilities and his drive to prove he was the best player on the court, regardless of his injury status or his off-the-court issues. That mindset resulted in two more championship banners in Los Angeles with him as the lead dog (or “dawg.” Whichever you prefer.)
But last season? And the beginning of this season? That same mindset has doomed the Lakers. It was a huge reason the Lakers were swept out of last year’s playoffs and it’s probably the biggest reason the Lakers are struggling to start off a 66-game campaign, with a .500 record.
In the 2010-11 season, Kobe’s knees continued to suffer from years and years of abuse (with major knee problems beginning in the Lakers’ 2010 championship run in the postseason), which was compiled by an arthritic index finger on his shooting hand as a result of never working to resolve the once-upon-a-time broken digit. And though those knees are no longer an issue and Kobe’s learned to shoot with four functioning fingers as opposed to five, his wrist, which is debilitated and wrapped every game due to a torn ligament, is continuing to hurt his game.
But, to Kobe, that isn’t a big deal. Give credit to the dude for keepin’ on trucking, but let’s not forget that he’s hurt and he isn’t playing at the level he should be or, at least, the level that he thinks he’s playing at.
Because in that 2010-11 campaign, Kobe strayed from Phil Jackson’s triangle offense, enough to doom the entire team to an extended offseason. The entire offense fell apart as a result of the unnecessary ball-stopping, which somehow led full-circle to a collapse of the Laker defense to the Dallas Mavericks’ shoot-at-will, championship offense. Turnovers upon turnovers and endless shot after shot were taken because Kobe desperately tried to prove he was the best player on the court and carry his team to another title, despite the fact that he had no legs to stand on (and that’s damn near literal). In the end, his stubbornness and his confidence — the same mindset that earned the right to wear five rings — kept his team out of a Western Conference Championship series. (Although Pau Gasol’s play didn’t necessarily help either.)
This year? That wrist is causing the same issues, and so is his mindset. After tearing that ligament, Kobe has yet to have surgery on it, a true testament to his toughness, sure, but also his stubbornness. Not only is that wrist hurting him, it’s hurting his play.
But his stat-line is Kobe-esque, you tell me. And his knees are damn-near brand new. He’s knocking down shots that he only sunk in his prime, at the age of 27.
Sure, those shots are going in, but that’s where going behind the boxscore would do the average fan (who can’t watch Laker games) some good. Because despite him sinking in those shots, he’s also had a hell of a lot of costly turnovers late in games. For 36 minutes, Kobe defers and let’s the Laker bigs (both All-Star material at this point, mind you) carry the offense. But for the final 12? Kobe goes into Kobe-mode, and while that sounded all fuzzy and warm (if you bleed purple and gold) a few years ago, that doesn’t sound so great now. Kobe only passes late in games as a bailout option, namely when he’s double-teamed and he has no place to go with the ball. He holds the ball for far longer than he should and that, coupled with errant passes out of desperation, lead to turnovers, which lead to fast-breaks which lead to easy points and precious momentum for the opposition. But even more importantly, his ball-stopping late in games means less touches for the big men (Pau Gasol and Andrew Bynum are shooting a solid 58 percent from the field) and low-percentage shots from the perimeter. Dribbling around in half-court sets makes absolutely no sense when your two 7-footers have been playing as good as any 4/5 combo in the NBA.
And, while we’re being honest, that’s why the Lakers have been struggling down the stretch of games. Kobe’s over-valuing of his skills and his toughness are clouding his judgment. If he was rational and objective, his big men would be getting touches.
Instead, I’m writing this blog post to document how Kobe Bryant is heading down the path of every megastar, future-hall-of-famer before him. The confidence in his abilities is ruining his team’s chances of winning ball games, which is even more daunting considering the fact that he’s hurting from injuries. Instead of making the sacrifice to sit some weeks out for surgery and rehab while letting his currently-.500 ball club hold down the fort (which it is capable of doing with Andrew Bynum and Pau Gasol dominating as much as they have been), Kobe’s stubbornness could flush any chances of his wrist — and his team — getting better straight down the toilet.
Brett Favre’s calling, Kobe. He would like to give you some advice some time, over a slice of humble pie.
