Sports Update

Tiger Woods held off Rocco Mediate in a marathon U.S. Open. How Woods did it, while dealing with knee pain, for an extra 18 holes and then a sudden death hole, is quite an epic story. But so is Rocco, at least where I come from. He's from Latrobe, PA, about 10 miles from where I grew up, and where one of my sisters and her husband have pretty much always lived. Latrobe was also the hometown of golf legend Arnold Palmer (the Latrobe airport is named after him now) but though he's cultivated a western PA image, he's more of the Rolling Rock Country Club set than the Rolling Rock Beer plant guys. But a guy named Rocco Mediate, that's more like it. Rocco is 45, pretty old to be out on the tour, and he's made a life for himself playing golf, despite the fact that he rarely wins a tournament. This was his big, big chance. I suppose it satisfies some working class hero dynamic to come close, but not be the winner. But if he had won, that would be quite a story, too.

I've begun watching the Lakers again, who got into the finals with the Boston Celtics. I started watching NBA basketball in the first place when these two teams played each other in the finals just about every year, and the games were tape-delayed and shown late at night. Magic, Kareem, Bird. Some really great games. This year's Lakers looked good in the western semis and championship, but once again they aren't measuring up to an Eastern team that had less formidable competition and had a tougher time with it. The Lakers lost two in Boston, although they came back from 20 behind to almost win the second. They won the third at home, and had a huge lead early in the fourth, but Boston came back to win it, the biggest collapse in NBA history. They got a big lead in the fifth game (also at home) and almost lost that. In his postgame interview, Kobe said the cocky words about going to Boston and winning both games, but I could see he didn't believe it himself. LA has a good team but they're inexperienced, and for the Celtics Doc Rivers is a very good coach, with more seasoned players. I don't see this going past the sixth game.

Barry: More!


Barry Bonds will play for the San Francisco Giants two more years at least, in a contract agreement announced just after he hit his 700th career home run. Only two other players in the history of the game have hit more homers, and it will probably take him until early next season before he surpasses Babe Ruth (at 715), and maybe the season after that to become the all-time home run king with at least 756. (Eclipsing Hank Aaron. I believe I remember seeing Aaron hit his 715th or 716th on TV. Wasn't much of a shot, as I recall. Aaron was steady, stayed healthy and played a long time. Babe Ruth was a giant in his time. He hit more home runs some years than entire other teams.) Bonds is more than durable. He is still the most dominant player in the majors. If he stays healthy for two or even three more years, he'll have the record.

Since Barry hit his 703rd with about another week of this season left, it's within the realm of possibility that he might break Ruth's record, but it's unlikely. The Giants are in contention for both the division lead or a wild card for the playoffs, and especially with the division still unsettled, Bonds will be lucky to see 2 or 3 pitches a game that are hittable. This past week he was walked intentionally 4 times in one game (a record), and a total of 5 walks in another game. So he doesn't see many pitches in the strike zone at all. But he tends to hit them when he does. Since walks don't count as plate appearances, at one point he was 3 for 3 over 3 games: 2 triples and a home run.

What this takes---despite all the chatter about chemical enhancements, live balls and diluted pitching---is phenomenal concentration and a state of mental balance or calm that has to be closer to enlightenment, to "empty mind" as any of us will ever get, even for a few moments here and there.

Bonds has never been a favorite of the sports press, who don't like his "attitude," and criticize him for not talking to them as much as they'd like, and for being remote from his teammates, surly, lording over the locker room with his two lockers and easy chair. But his press conference comments after the 700th suggested what the price is for his success in terms of that concentration. Bonds keeps to his workouts and regimens, and tries to keep a mental calm and concentration on the game. It makes sense to me. Does the press really believe if he chatted with them every day about how it feels to be doing this or challenging that record, etc., that he would have lasted this long, and done so much?

When he does talk for the cameras he exhibits an engaging side that seems a genuine part of him. But to expect him to accomplish what he does every day, and be what the press want him to be, is the trap that too many people are invited to fall into, in the arts as well as sports.

And now he's done a few promos for the Giants and become a kind of poet of the game, talking about the smell of the grass and the dirt, the sound of the crowd, that this is his place of peace.

The Giants probably won't win the division, and though they may get into the playoffs as a wild card, they'll need a lot of good fortune to get far into them. Even with their hitters overachieving as they have been the past few weeks, and their starting pitchers giving them some stellar performances, their relief pitching may not be up to the challenge. But who knows? Barry Bonds may yet get the one prize that's eluded him: that World Series ring.

I missed seeing his 700th in real time (and like most of his landmark homers, he did it at home in San Francisco,) but I was watching on TV when he hit his 699th on the road. He'd been walked several times but when he came up in the late innings he had that look, like he was going to swing at anything close. And he was facing a young pitcher who clearly was going to pitch to him. Apart from the game situation, a young pitcher has to do this: he's got to test his arm against the best. If he strikes Barry out, he's got himself a rep. If Barry clocks one---well, a rookie pitcher may be permanently gone from the majors in a week (especially this late in the season, when rosters expand and minor league players are brought up for "a cup of coffee" look), so this may be his only chance to get in the record books.

This kid showed him some heat. Barry showed him how far a ball can go into dead center field, over the fence, above the stands, to the video screen above which at the time had Barry's picture showing, so he almost hit himself in the teeth. Barry taking a shot at his own image, wouldn't be the first time.

UPDATE 10/02 No More this year for Barry. After their pitiful bullpen couldn't preserve a 3-0 lead in the 9th inning yesterday, the Giants lost their chance at either the division title or the wild card berth. Barry ended up with the National League batting title, and is a strong candidate for Most Valuable Player, though that's getting rarer for a non-playoff team. He also nearly doubled his own record for the most intentional walks in a season. His home run total stayed at 703. Wait till next year.

Promises...

I promised not to post anything about basketball outside the June 25 entry. But I didn't say I wouldn't mention that I just added an update on the end of it.

I just added an update on the end of it.

The Lakers Gripe Page

Okay, here's the deal: The entry for this date will be the ONLY place on this blog---okay, on ANY blog---that I mention the Lakers, or anything NBA. But if you are one of the -0 persons interested, I will keep adding to this date's entry when the mood strikes over the coming days, weeks, months, I don't know, it' s all too depressing...

The thing is I thought I was prepared for the idea of the Lakers without Shaq. His habit of going through the motions (at best) until the playoffs was getting old. In fact it was amazing to see him for a couple of games in the playoffs, especially game 4 of the finals, when it turned out he still could do many of the things that Shaq used to do. Apparently he just can't do them all that often, or on less than two full days rest.

But then they started talking trade, and talking about who they might get for him, and then I got really bummed. Shaq not being a Laker is bad enough, but what's worse is who could become a Laker instead. Those guys from Dallas? DALLAS? ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Dallas is even worse than Sacramento: they are both entertaining teams with enough talent to put on a good show, but they can't actually win anything against a good opponent. Especially Dallas. There isn't a player on that team I can think of I'd care to see in a Lakers uniform. They just don't have it.

Well, nobody seems to really know what's going on. But it's nothing good so far. Derek Fisher has opted out of his contract. What's the Lakers without Derek Fisher? He could still sign with them, but... So Fisher is a free agent, Kobe is a free agent, Shaq wants traded, Malone ain't talking, the best coach in NBA history was asked not to return--- and who says he'll be back? Gary Payton. GARY PAYTON. The one guy they need to get rid of.

The writers are writing in circles. Payton wouldn't say he's coming back unless he knew his buddy Shaq was coming back. But Shaq is really serious about leaving. Which means?

It's Kobe's team now, that's what all the changes are about. Only Kobe isn't saying anything, except to let the Clippers know he's available---and they're shedding players like mad to be able to afford him. THE CLIPPERS?

The owner who started all this has gone off to Italy. I wish I had. His general manager, who nobody seems to like, seems to be delaying doing anything about Shaq, hoping either that Shaq changes his mind or he gets better offers. Jerry West, who built the Lakers championships team, is exiled in Memphis, and he says he doesn't believe Shaq will leave, and he certainly doesn't expect the Lakers to trade him to a team in the West (like Dallas, or Sacramento.) But if anybody with Jerry West's basketball mind or common sense was still running the Lakers, would any of this be happening?

Meanwhile I'm waiting to here from one of the players who is trustworthy, what really happened in the finals. I haven't yet worked up the courage to watch the game 4 tape to see if it's true that Shaq was open in the 4th quarter and Kobe didn't get him the ball, and that's why they lost the game that Shaq dominated.(Not that I could really tell anyway.) Watching the Houston series again, it was clear how important a healthy Karl Malone was to their winning the first round, so maybe they couldn't have taken four games from Detroit. Game 5 would seem to indicate that.

Okay, that's enough for now. Everything (except Phil Jackson returning) is still more or less possible, like Shaq, Kobe, Fish and Malone return to the Lakers, and Gary Payton gets traded for a power forward. I mean, what else nearly good could happen? Kobe and Shaq are so expensive, what really good team can afford either one? Well, I've got my old Lakers playoff tapes, and my old Chicago Bulls playoff tapes. I guess until they wear out I'm good.

UpDATE 7/16

It's not so much that the Lakers traded Shaq, or that they mercifully traded him for 3 players I don't know much about (some say they're good, some say they're bad) and not for players from Sacramento or Dallas, but that these players come (from Miami) with such preexisting fat contracts that the Lakers have little room to improve further, unless they can trade somebody else--and all they've got at the moment is those three guys, and Gary Payton. With Derek Fisher also officially gone---having won his championships he opted to make some money with Golden State, can't fault him for that---the Lakers almost have to keep Payton now, or play without a point guard as well as a center.

See, that's the major problem. Shaq may not have been the player he once was, but he was still big. And now the Lakers are let's just say significantly undersized at the center position, assuming they even know who they might play at that position. Now if these new guys don't work out, they've got to pay them anyway and they can't afford anyone new, even though there doesn't appear to be a really good center out there anyway. They'll be lucky to get Vlady Divac, who was a Laker before he was traded to make room for Kobe many years ago, and might be interested in returning if they can find some way to pay him. He is at least sort of tall and a veteran with some knowledge of the game and the position.

No one knows if Karl Malone is coming back---he loved Shaq but he also loves Kobe and the LA fans. On the other hand, he's being recruited by San Antonio, which has a legitimate chance at the championship next year---which is why he came to LA---and his wife is from that Texas city. So chances are he'll go there, and then the Lakers will really be questionable. Unless managment has another move or two up its sleeve before the season starts.

The big news of course was that Kobe will be back. Probably crucial to that were statements by the Laker owner and GM that Kobe had nothing to do with Shaq being traded and Phil Jackson being un-asked back, although both of them thought that management's preference for Kobe undermined them. Kobe denies he had anything to do with it, he told both he'd be content to play out his career with them, but he did have issues with them and...how the hell should I know?

So the Lakers will be a run and gun team, they hope, and good enough (the sports seers say) to make the playoffs but nowhere near good enough to get very far into them. The other very good teams in the west just got a lot better, simply because Shaq is no longer in the west. He and his new but supposedy more team oriented Kobe-type shooting guard are supposed to make the Miami Heat a surefire playoff team---not too difficult in their conference---but if Kobe and Shaq couldn't dent Detroit, can Shaq without Kobe? Maybe, maybe not. The Lakers are betting that Shaq has one or two more good years at best---probably next year---but that Kobe will become the premier player in the league and stay pretty near the top for the next seven years or more. Next year? The Lakers could be fun to watch, and the Heat could be, too. But as things stand now it's not likely either will be in the finals. Just as well. I can spend the time working on my shot (I can no longer with any degree of accuracy call it a jump shot.)

August 3 UPDATE So the Lakers did sign Vlade Divac, and a forward who can spell at center, and who can run, in Slava Mevendko . But the possibility of the Lakers being a playoff team next year rests entirely now with the decision of Karl Malone.

Malone apparently has offers to play for the Lakers (with Kobe) or the Heat (with Shaq) or for San Antonio (where he arguably would have the best chance for a championship ring, but would be part of a completely new bunch of players that might or might not be a team.) Though Malone came to the Lakers at the behest of Shaq and maintains a good relationship and lots of admiration, he also developed a great relationship off and especially on the court with Kobe. The on-court partnership began to sparkle most conspicuously against San Antonio in the playoffs. It was evident at times in the few games both played during the season, and then in flashes in the Houston first round series. If Malone had not gotten hurt, it's more likely that the Lakers would have been able to hang on and win the championship against Detroit. (Not a lock, obviously, given what looked like team fatigue, but he was the missing element.)

With Malone, Kobe has somebody he can trust on the offense, and somebody he can rely on to play defense. Without Malone, the Lakers will be on a steep learning curve, and without much maturity in the playoffs. So stay tuned: the Lakers season is on the line.

On another note, I watched with actually a great deal of pleasure as Italy dismantled the U.S. Olyimpic team, made up mostly of second and third tier NBA semi-stars. The Italians play a different style, but it's smart basketball, with lots of player movement and crisp passes, and accurate shooting. Apparently they've learned that scoring points will win games. They increased a ten point lead to nearly 30 in the fourth quarter. Not only isn't the U.S. team anything like the Dream Team, but the rest of the world is playing their game. Italy has been a mainstay of European basketball for years---hey, that's where Kobe Bryant learned the game (and learned Italian) when his dad played there.

Is the force with them?

Strange days, my Lakers fans. A single three point shot was the difference that preserves the dynasty, at least for the moment. The Lakers lost the first game of the finals at home, and won the second with a staggering improvised fourth quarter and a dominant overtime. Now they go to Detroit for three games that will tell the tale. They need at least one, and could really use two.

Credit the first game to Detroit's coach, Larry Brown, who had them very prepared and efficient. The Lakers had a tough time figuring the Pistons out, and seemed to be waiting for Detroit's nearly flawless performance to falter. When uncertain, the Lakers depend heavily on Shaq and Kobe, and though both of them came through, the rest of the team was woeful.

The second game showed the Lakers ability to adapt, but their Achilles heel right now is injuries. Contrary to early reports, the Lakers now seem more banged up than the Pistons. Crucial injuries to Karl Malone and Derek Fisher have been costly. Both are playing, Malone is clearly limited and Fisher's shot has been off---though he made two crucial three pointers in the fourth quarter, so maybe he's adapting.

Malone is still valuable on the floor, if only for his courage. The real mystery is Gary Payton, who was a bit more effective defensively in the second game, but is still spiritless and sulky. Neither he nor Malone are hitting their shots.

Injuries (including Rick Fox), inconsistent play and match-up problems had Phil Jackson improvising some strange lineups particularly in the 4th quarter of game 2. But ultimately he outcoached Brown in that quarter, and the battle-tested Lakers dominated the drained Detroit team in overtime.

The star of the quarter was Kobe Bryant, who is now has to be considered a favorite for MVP if the Lakers win the series. Not only for his 3 point shot that tied the game with 2 seconds left, but for his determination, going to the basket for shots that no one else can make, and his defense.

But the player of the game was the rookie with the great pedigree, Luke Walton. Son of Lakers great, Bill Walton, Luke energized the Lakers when he got into the game in the second quarter, and again in the fourth and overtime. He scored crucial baskets, made crucial defensive plays and rebounds, but most of all he made plays, and has the kind of on-court rapport with Shaq that Malone has with Kobe. His passes to Shaq and an inspired alley-oop were the difference. Shaq performed well, especially making an absolutely crucial foul shot and three-point play just before Kobe's three pointer. But he has yet to have the outstanding defensive game as he had against Minnesota and San Antonio.

If the Lakers follow their usual script, the need for so many "crucial" plays in the second game will lead to easier victories in Detroit, perhaps with one more lapse. But Malone's injury and Payton's confused and spiritless play are very troublesome.

The difference could come down to character and playoff experience. Detroit really fell apart in overtime, and they must know they've played about as well as they can. They could have a great shooting night and run away with a game, but they have to win three more, not just one. But the Lakers fought through tremendous adversity---they lost a pretty big lead and were down by five points very late in the 4th quarter. They had a terrible no-call on a foul to Bryant that was inexcusable (when does a Bryant shot fall a couple of feet short of the basket except when his shooting hand is hit? You don't need a replay to show that, although that is what the replay shows) and a bad call against Shaq for his fifth foul, but they overcame that. Malone made important contributions even though his obvious injury cost them at times as well. In the end it was their thundering will that smashed the Pistons in overtime. It could be the difference, but it's unlikely to be easy.

Luke Walton will probably get more playing time, and he deserves to, but he's a rookie and they don't get breaks from officials. The matchups continue to be a problem, especially on the boards. They need a big rebounding night from Shaq and Medvenenko. But Luke's energy and ball-handling ability could be very important. Is that enough for the force to be with them? Stay tuned.

UPDATE: Turns out that Payton is playing with physical problems as well. So, hours before tipoff of game 4, after the Lakers played probably the worst playoff game in their recent history (although they had some bad ones against Sacramento, too, a few years back, a prediction for the outcome of the finals: Lakers in 6.

DOWNDATE Did I say six games? Seven---I meant seven games.

But while it is still possible, the way they lost the 4th game is not encouraging. Whatever happens, the Hollywood ending isn't likely to be there. Karl Malone is completely ineffective with his injury. Finger-pointing has begun among the LA Times sportswriters---one blaming Kobe for not passing enough to Shaq (Kobe did have another bad game shooting), another blaming Phil Jackson for not heeding the request of his 5 former champions and starting the old lineup of Fox, Fisher, Shaq, Kobe and George.

Whatever the reason for the meltdown, if the Lakers don't win the championship, the chances that this team would return intact---which seemed likely a week ago---is about zero. If they lose, the Shaq v. Kobe noise will drive at least one of them out of LA, Malone will retire, Payton will be gone, and other veteran players will probably go, as a new team is built around whatever star remains (if any) and the most promising young players, Luke Walton and Kareem Rush. The end of an era could come as soon as Tuesday. (Which I'm sure for some of my regular readers, won't be soon enough...)

Last Date
There was no Hollywood ending after all, at least for the Lakers. No championship for Karl Malone, whose knee was so bad he didn't suit up for the final game---his injury was the most crucial of many---and he will consult his doctors before the probable decision to retire. No record-breaking tenth championship for coach Phil Jackson, who said there was only a very slight chance he would be back. In the next month--maybe even before the Dems have a VP candidate---the shape of next year's Lakers will be clearer: either almost completely different (no Jackson, Malone, Fisher (free agency), Fox (retires), Grant (retires), Kobe (free agency, but he could return anyway) or surprisingly intact, ready for one more shot (hopefully, without Gary Payton.) Who knows how much ego got in the way, or why Kobe had such a run of poor shooting games...But it says something that every one of the players apologized to Malone for not getting him his championship. Malone said he was disappointed but didn't regret playing for the Lakers this year---he really bonded with this team.

But it was a Hollywood week for Detroit, becoming the first team without home court advantage to win their three home games, and the championship. They played a stellar game, confident that the Lakers couldn't match them, especially with Malone out and Shaq playing on two days rest. The Lakers only hope was that the Pistons would come out flat, and Kobe and other players would catch fire. Instead it was Detroit shooting the high percentage, and both Kobe and Shaq were gracious in defeat, giving Detroit their due as playing a better series and deserving the championship. They were also gracious about each other and Phil Jackson, so all options remain open, and pretty much up to the Lakers management. Then of course the really big decision---who do I root for next year?

The Finals


Down two games to none against the defending NBA champions in the second round, with all of their flaws exposed, the LA Lakers could have fallen apart. Instead they've become a team, a process that was not entirely accomplished until game 6 of the western conference finals. First the stars had to (as they say) elevate their game, and while doing the difficult and improbable things that stars do---in terms of skill, smarts, heart and stamina---they kept teammates involved and played the coach's game. Improbably they won four games in a row against the defending champion Spurs. It took a very improbable shot by a non-star (Derek Fisher) to do it, but most of the time it was Shaq or Kobe or notably both, who sealed the deal.

As predicted here, Minnesota gave them a battle, and also as predicted, there was a most improbable hero, Kareem Rush, whose 6 three pointers won a mostly ugly game 6 (made uglier by needlessly interfering officiating) and the series for the Lakers. And it was Kobe's passes to Rush, and Malone's passes to Mevedenko (and pats on the head when he saw how nervous this reserve player was) that made this a team at last.

So this is what the Detroit Pistons have to face. The Lakers still have a tendency to get lazy (though I thought their much advertised "giddiness" in the locker room before their tepid performance in the fifth game was a good sign---a collective tension release that was another team bonding moment) and Detroit will compete hard, especially on defense. But just as the western conference series was essentially over when the Lakers won the first game, if they win the first game of this series, it will be just a matter of how many games it will take---4, 5 or 6---before they claim the championship. It's not just a matter of numbers, but of the fact that the Lakers have successfully adjusted to their opponents better as the series goes on.

They could get lazy and blow the first game, since it is at home, but that's unlikely. I expect Karl Malone to have a great series and keep the Lakers honest. It will be his first championship, and he may retire afterwards. (Although my decidedly minority view is that he will be back next year, along with Shaq and Kobe. Gary Payton is less likely, and coach Phil Jackson is somewhat of a mystery, but if the two stars and Malone stay, it will probably be as much up to them to ask him to stay as it will be for management to renegotiate his contract.)

I can't say I cared for Malone much before this season. I thought he was mostly a redneck bully; I was slower to forgive him for his comments that caused Magic Johnson to retire (Malone said players wouldn't guard Magic as hard because they'd be afraid to get some of his HIV-infected blood) than Magic was. But he's shown me something this year. Even though he was hurt for a good part of the season, he was the guy who held this team together and insisted on its character, with an openness and honesty, emotion and calm that belies his muscular play. At 40 he may not have the ability to have an MVP series but he's going to be a crucial element. The guy who will be playing at an MVP level will be Kobe, and it's not irrelevant to mention that Malone and Kobe have bonded off and especially on the court this year; at crucial times, before Shaq elevated his game and the team knew what to expect of him, the Malone-Kobe combination was what kept the Lakers going.

Who else is going to step up? Rick Fox has had a dismal playoffs, still hampered by his injury. His defense and passing have been crucial in the past---perhaps they will be again. Gary Payton will earn his championship on defense in this series, but he's capable of scoring in heaps. That's what this Laker team learned-that when the defense gives somebody an opportunity (and they must, faced with the decision to double team and swarm Shaq or Kobe), every one of the "role" players is capable of making big shots, and lots of them. Detroit is perhaps more banged up than the Lakers, though Derek Fisher was playing hurt and not terribly well in game 6. But at this point, every team and every player is hurting. Still, the finals are the finals, and the adrenalin should raise the level of play. Game one is Sunday.

Free Barry!


I’ve watched Barry Bonds play baseball since his rookie year for my hometown team, the Pittsburgh Pirates. He hit his sixth home run on my fortieth birthday. His homeruns in those days were memorable mostly for the speed with which they left the park, though he did hit some titans. He was a line drive hitter, but they were the hardest line drives I’ve ever seen. The last Pittsburgh Pirates game I saw at Three Rivers Stadium was at the end of his last season there. He didn’t homer but he had five or six hits, rockets to right, center and left.

Lots of people in Pittsburgh didn’t like him, including sportswriters, but Pittsburgh always had to have a dark hero to go along with the favorite, especially when both were black. Willie Stargell was the beloved Pops, Dave Parker was his bad boy shadow. Bobby Bonilla was the popular favorite when Bonds was in the same stellar outfield, on that brilliant and tragic late 80s, early 90s team that one year came within an out of going to the World Series, and never could quite get past the Atlanta Braves several years running. Pittsburgh hasn’t had a contending team since.

Since 1993, Barry has been on the San Francisco Giants, which came within a single win of winning the division that year, and couple of outs of winning the World Series two seasons ago. And of course in the past several years, Barry Bonds has emerged as probably the greatest baseball player of all time. He followed his record-setting single season home run year with the batting average title the next year.

I’ve only managed to see one game in San Francisco since he’s been there, late last season. He did something rare for him---he struck out twice. Still, it’s a great ball park with great fans, and everyone holds their breath when Barry comes to the plate. So often he rewards them with the kind of home run that takes your breath away, like a Michael Jordan dunk or a Kobe Bryant drive, or some of those amazing things the women gymnasts do.

This year, despite his father’s death last fall, and the shadow of the Balco drug scandal, and turning forty himself this season, he started out with tremendous hitting. In mid April he tied Willie Mays (his godfather) for third for total home runs with a shot that practically bears his patent: out of the park in right field, and into the Bay. The next day he moved ahead of Mays with a shot to the same spot (both balls, incredibly, retrieved by the same guy, out there amongst the other boats and kayaks positioned just to chase Barry Bond home runs.)

A few days Scott Ostler, San Francisco Chronicle sports columnist, let loose the rhetoric along with the statistics. “Barry Bonds is rewriting the Book of Baseball Wisdom. The hardest thing to do in sports right now is to miss Barry’s round bat with your round pitched ball.”

At that point, Bonds was hitting .500, with 7 homers and 16 RBIs in 34 at bats. “His slugging percentage is 1.265, a figure so high that only dogs can read it." Ostler wrote about a Sunday against the Dodgers, where Barry hit a double, a homer, another homer, and an RBI single. “Bonds’ second homer caused the Dodgers to do some soul-searching at two different meetings on the mound in which there were seven participants. I think the group included a Bonds specialist the Dodgers flew in from Zurich. I’m pretty sure I could hear them singing ‘Kumbaya.’ It’s the first time I’ve ever seen a meeting at the mound broken up by the fire marshal.”

Then Bonds hit at least one home run in eight straight games. This is the major league record, held by several players (I believe the first one was Dale Long, for the Pittsburgh Pirates in the 1950s. One of those stats I memorized from a bubble gum card.) But Barry didn’t hit a homer in the ninth game. He wasn’t allowed to. The San Diego Padres intentionally walked him, every time.

That, my friends, was poor sportsmanship to the extreme. It used to be that in baseball and some other sports, it was a matter of honor to let a player going for a record have a fair shot at it. You didn’t tell your pitcher to throw a fastball down the middle, but you didn’t tell him to walk the guy out of a chance.

But it was only the beginning. By early May Bonds had been intentionally walked 29 times, at a pace to break the single season record of 68 before the season was half over. (The record is held by, you guessed it, Barry Bonds.) By mid May, he had been walked 54 times in 35 games. At first he shrugged it off, saying that the important thing was that the team wins the game. That worked while they were winning. When they slumped, he talked about the strain of it, of staying mentally and physically prepared when he never gets the chance to hit. Then he started talking about being traded. Then his back started acting up again, and he was out of the lineup.

Walking Bonds so much is statistically bad baseball by some accounts (if the idea is to win more than you lose by walking him), but by my account it’s bad for baseball. It corrupts the game. It’s also obviously bad for the baseball business. People don’t go to baseball games to watch the greatest living hitter and maybe the greatest of all time not get a pitch to hit. This is a guy who in the best of times gets maybe a couple of hittable pitches in a game, hardly ever more than one during an at-bat. That he hits as well as he does has to be measured against this.

But this titan of hitting in the last years we will ever get to see him hit is being denied the opportunity to do what he does best, and we are denied the opportunity to see him do it, if only on TV. We’re denied the chance to see him break Babe Ruth’s all time record, which he could conceivably do this season, though not with the at-bats he’s being currently allowed. Then there’s Henry Aaron’s record still to go. There’s no reason that Barry Bonds can’t become the all-time home run champ, except for all those walks.

It’s far from the biggest crime against humanity currently in the docket, but it’s a disgrace to the game of baseball nonetheless. And we can use all the grace and inspiration and wonder we can get.

Fish

Political comment, and plenty of it, has been relegated to the (clickable) American Samizat blog lately. But by Thursday I’d hit the emotional wall. Five of the last six books I read were on terrorism and war: four for a review already published in the San Francisco Chronicle, and one I’ve reviewed for a future issue. In the midst of this, the Iraqi prisoner abuse scandal hit, followed by the beheading of an American civilian, both of them weird stories as well as doubly horrific because of how seamlessly they fit into my reading. And of course the war in Iraq continued, as the prisoner photos played endlessly, illustrating every even marginally relevant comment made by anybody on TV.

The moment I couldn’t get past was when one news show dropped Iraq for a few minutes to finally report on the Sudan, and the immense “humanitarian crisis” as we so blithely have to call it, caused by war there: refugees starving in border camps, having fled from the slaughter of ethnic cleansing. It was the kind of scene we’ve grown too accustomed to out of Africa for decades, the flies on starving babies. But what got to me most was the incredibly beautiful clothing the women wore—the brilliant colors and patterns of their everyday life. It was just too much to bear.

So I opted out of the newstream for all of Thursday. How about a nice relaxing basketball game instead? Fortunately for my blood pressure, I couldn’t watch the Lakers-Spurs Game 5 live, but had to do a tape delay. I turned it on just in time to see Phil Jackson’s half-smile, see the score (Lakers by one point) and hear the announcer sign off saying, “one of the most dramatic games in NBA history.”

This second round series has been billed as the one that will likely decide the championship. The Spurs won the first two games at home, over the Lakers who looked disorganized and slow, especially in 4th quarters (when in previous championship years, they systematically dismantled the Spurs) after their 5 game first round over Houston. But then the Lakers won game 3 by 20+ points at home, and held off the Spurs to win the fourth quarter (finally) in game 4. These were classic Kobe and Shaq games, the kind that seemed gone forever.

I learned that the Lakers had held a lead through most of game 5 in San Antonio, where they have never yet won a playoff game. Apparently with ferocious defense and a lot of Kobe Bryant offense, and an unusually active Deavon George. But by the 4th quarter they were just hanging on, their shots weren’t falling, and the Spurs were desperately attacking and scoring. A 16 point third quarter lead turned into the Spurs ahead by one point. The rest can only be recited:

At 11+ seconds, Kobe gets a screen from Malone, elevates on a jump shot and scores. Lakers by one.

With 5+ seconds the Spurs inbound to Tim Duncan, their veteran MVP star. The Lakers defense is stifling. He can do nothing with the ball, and Shaq has come out to stop him beyond the foul line. He throws the ball towards the hoop without being able to see it, as he falls down. The ball goes in. It’s a miracle finish. The Spurs go wild, as do their fans.

It’s all over except for the formality of a Lakers inbound, because there is less than a half second on the clock. Four tenths of a second, to be exact. After a couple of time outs, the Spurs cover Shaq, they cover Kobe, and Gary Payton throws a perfect pass to Derek Fisher. Payton has replaced Fisher as a starter. There are few players better liked or respected by his teammates and the media than Fisher. When murmurs were becoming open dissatisfaction with Kobe’s game, Fisher spoke up for him. He plays tenacious defense and in earlier years was known for his dagger three point shots when they meant something. This year he wasn’t playing all that well off the bench, until the playoffs. He'd never made a game winning shot. They call him Fish.

He’s left handed, he was on the left side of the basket, open. As he caught the ball he started to twist for his shot. Through replay after replay, the ball was maybe a foot out of his hands when the lights around the backboard flashed on, signaling end of the game---and so the shot was legal. And the shot went in.

While the commentators search the record books for anything like this—3 changes of lead in the last twelve seconds, two miracle shots, the last with less than .5 seconds on the clock—they also cited history: that in a 2-2 series, the team that wins game 5 wins the series more than 80% of the time, including last year’s Lakers-Spurs series, almost a mirror image of this one: the Spurs led by more than 20 points, the Lakers fought back and could have won the game on a Robert Horry 3 pointer that went in---and came out, at the buzzer.

But as usual they’re a bit too quick to proclaim the Lakers as champions yet. The odds are in their favor for game 6 in L.A., and they do seem to have jelled as a team more than ever before. Payton to Fish could turn out to be the glue that will hold this team together and take it to its destiny. But the Spurs have lost 3 in a row and face elimination, as the reigning NBA champs. They've shown they can come back. The Lakers are going to have to be intense, and they can’t suffer another 4th quarter letdown. (Kobe was so exhausted he had to receive intravenous fluids for dehydration after the game. Even on the bench in the last seconds it was clear he was having trouble catching his breath. He appeared to meditate for a moment, and when the horn sounded to resume play he jumped up to join his teammates.)

But the Lakers do get better as a series goes on, which credits their court smarts and their coaching. The problem is fatigue in the fourth, and energy and concentration throughout, which has been inconsistent. After a first round and early second round with lots of days between games, these last four games have come with just a day between. It's good for concentration, but not for aging legs. Still, they're at home and the crowd should boost their energy. In a inconsistent year, they've done pretty well in big games, and Phil Jackson teams do well in closeout games.

Even if the Lakers get past the Spurs it’s not over. Though it’s doubtful Sacramento can win 4 out of 7 from them, if Minnesota wins that series, they could pose problems. The Minnesota Timberwolves are the team of the near future, but this could be their year to emerge. They're young, fast and hungry, with this year's MVP Kevin Garnett. Still, you have to like the Lakers chances a lot better than when the playoffs started.

Even if they can’t maintain, they’ve played some memorable games already this postseason. None more so than Game 5, which I have securely on tape, and the ending doesn’t change whenever I watch it. There’s the shot, Fisher running down the court towards the dressing room, grabbed by the exhausted Kobe, who apparently just kept repeating, Fish, Fish, Fish. It couldn’t happen to a nicer guy.

Playoffs

It's been a hard year to follow the Lakers, or even to like much about the NBA. The Lakers have been crazy: brilliant in stretches, and dispiriting in others. They've also been beset by an almost unbelievable series of injuries. Literally no starter or even regular player has avoided getting hurt, some for long periods of time (Karl Malone, Horace Grant, Rick Fox) and some with multiple injuries (Kobe Bryant) and chronic ones (Shaq.) And the psychodrama has been pretty unattractive.

It seems that major players on many teams had serious injuries this year, perhaps due to the increasingly "physical" play. Both the injuries (which throw teams into unbecoming chaos) and the trend towards hockey or football style of play have made NBA games less fun to watch.

Soon the playoffs start, and I feel more conflicted than usual about spending the time watching them. When they got Karl Malone and Gary Paton, the Lakers thought they had a dream team but so far it's been more like a nightmare. At times when they jelled, they seemed unbeatable, but most of the time their team flaws were very evident. Other teams know their vulnerabilities. They can be outplayed with speed and intensity.

Which Lakers team will show up? That's often been the question, not only because of the lineups changed by injuries, but by attitude. Shaq is having trouble focusing, even when he apparently wants to. Or so it seems.

Their first round series with Houston may tell the tale. The teams match up well, and the Lakers can't lose focus or intensity, but must use their experience. If they play hard and well, they could dominate. If they fool around and try to win games in the fourth quarter, they could lose the series, or even win the series but lose the war---the next round.

It will be too bad if it's decided by injuries. For a brief moment towards the end of the season, the Lakers had their starting five playing. But then Rick Fox got hurt again, and in the last game of the regular season, they lost Karl Malone again, as well as their two main remaining bench players (Derek Fisher and Deavon George), both of whom have been starters. All of them are expected to be back, but when, and how effective will they be? Horace Grant's injuries are keeping him out of the playoffs altogether, and several other players are hurt.

The Lakers could win the championship, but right now they'd do it as underdogs. Minnesota has the hottest team, and defending champion San Antonio the strongest combination of playoff experience and playing well at the end of the season. But anything could happen. The Lakers could struggle every round, and win them all. Or they could totally dominate certain teams, or all of them. Or they could be gone after six games.

It seems the drama will be Kobe. With his dashing from court room to court, and the mercurial moments he has and the Lakers have surrounding him, together with his immense talent at the top of his game---he just won the Lakers last game, and the Pacific conference championship, with two impossible shots, an off-balance long three pointer to tie the game at the end of the fourth quarter, and a touch-and-shoot three pointer at the end of second overtime with one second on the clock to win the game.

But with that expectation, odds are it will be someone else who makes the difference. Someone unexpected. Besides to see the residual beauty of the game, I guess that's why I'll watch. Starting Saturday.

Mutando riposa
"Changing, it rests"
Herakeitos, in Italian as recalled by Francesco Clemente to Michael McClure


In the parking lot outside Staples a man shouts into his cell phone, "You wasted my miles!" He listens for a brief moment and then repeats it, "You wasted my miles!"


At the St. Vincent DePaul Store counter, a young man in a leather jacket explains that he is buying a lime green blanket for a homeless person, instead of giving him money, "which he might spend on beer." The clerk says it is probably a good choice. They agree he will be warmer with the blanket.
But the young man walks alone down the street a long ways carrying the lime green blanket in a rumpled paper bag. Is it really for a homeless person that far away---there were closer candidates near the store---or was it a story, because for some reason he was embarrassed to be buying it for himself?


For several days now I have been possessed by the idea that I should be permanently wearing a dunce cap.


I wonder if anyone in Chicago is sleeping well this week. The Cubs, who haven't been in a world series for nearly a century, blew a 3-1 lead in the league championship series. They had been four outs from the World Series at one point, with one of their two best pitchers on the mound. He got into mild trouble in the eighth inning with a 3-0 lead, and then a foul ball drifted toward the short left field stands. It was a high pop, and the fans in the first few rows were knotted together looking up. One guy stuck out his hand and the ball bounced off of it---and also away from the Cub fielder's glove waiting below these massed fans' hands. It would have been the second out. The player-third baseman I think-- was furious. The pitcher asked the umpire to call fan interference, but the ball has to be on the field of play, not a foot or so in the stands.

At that point everybody had the same bad feeling. The pitcher was unnerved and walked the batter, throwing into the dirt and moving up the runner in the process. The fans around the man who deflected the ball pelted him with beer. Park officials had to rescue him. They kept him hidden for an hour after the game was over. The Chicago Sun-Times then printed his name and occupation. By the next afternoon his phone was disconnected. I'm guessing he'll be moving out of town, his life distorted and impossible, all because of a moment in an exciting baseball game when he was trying to catch a foul ball.

Because the next batter hit a routine grounder to shortstop, an easy out, a difficult double play. But the shortstop muffed it, got nothing. And the floodgates opened. The Marlins scored eight runs. They had beaten one of Chicago's best starting pitchers. The next day they faced the other one, the most consistent and brilliant. They hadn't been able to hit either of these guys the first time they faced them. But they hit Kerry Wood in the seventh game, and they won their third in a row.

It's something that happens in sports, mysterious, fatal, and it can be painful for years and years. It happened to the SF Giants last year in the World Series, when they were a handful of outs away from winning it all in the sixth game, with an even bigger lead. Then one thing led to another and they lost that game, and they looked pretty flat in the 7th, which they lost. The Marlins did it to them this year, but what were freakish screwups and bad judgments last year became inept and dispirited play this year. Last year the Giants should have won. This year they played poorly and so their bad luck was not so surprising.

The most painful such moment for me was in the early 90s, when the Pittsburgh Pirates had their last good team, probably the best in the majors that year, with Barry Bonds, Bobby Bonilla and Andy van Slyke in the outfield. They were about to go to the world series in a game against the Atlanta Braves, a team I despise, not just because they were the nemesis of the Pirates (and later the Giants), but for their racist name, mascot, song and tomahawk chop. The Pirates had to get just one out, and at least twice they had to get just one strike. But they didn't. They lost. The last shot on the TV was those three outfielders, who knew they would never play another game together, lying flat on their backs on the grass.

The Pirates that year were the beginning of a trend-the Last Year for the Good Team. Not in retrospect either-you knew it then, because of money. The Pirates couldn't afford to sign their best players, and they began a process of letting them go and trading them that continues through this year---in fact some of the better Cubs started out this season with the Pirates. The same thing is going to happen to the Giants for next year. From this year's team there will be Barry Bonds and the batboy. Perhaps the most bizarre case is the Marlins. One year their owner bought up the contracts of all the best players he could get, and he got the best manager in baseball-Jim Leyland, the manager of that Pirates team with Bonds and Bonilla. Leyland took them to the World Series and they won it. I rooted for them because Leyland deserved a World Series ring. But right after they won, the owner totally dismantled the team. The fans were betrayed and they knew it, and even though this year's Marlins are going to the World Series, they have just about the lowest home attendance in the major leagues this side of Montreal.

That Pirates collapse began with the same kind of eerie moment as the Cubs', though it wasn't so bizarre. One of the best fielding second baseman in the majors booted a grounder in the ninth inning. That started it, and postponed Barry Bonds playing in the series for more than a decade.

The Cubs collapse was even more total and more humiliating, because it occurred over three games, especially the final two. How does a freak moment turn into inevitability? How quickly a dream almost fulfilled becomes a nightmare that won't stop. Was this the "inferiority complex" psychology of the loser who can't believe he deserves to win? You have to wonder about Dusty Baker, an inspirational manager who took the Giants to the Series last year and the Cubs to the league championship series this year, and saw ultimate victory collapse in the same fashion. Is this coincidence, or is there something fatal about his managing, a flaw that comes out in these situations, maybe even the other side of the virtues that gets him to these games... It's just a game: you throw the ball, you hit the ball, you catch the ball. But even within the chalk outline, life remains mysterious.

For the other side of bad luck is the team that gets the break, and then goes on to heroics to win. The 1960 Pittsburgh Pirates may not have had their chance in the seventh game if a ground ball didn't take a hard bad bounce and hit Tony Kubec in the throat, instead of in his glove. It was a small moment in an otherwise fantastic game, but Bill Mazeroski might never have been in position to win the game with a home run otherwise.
The breaks of the game...whatever that really means.

For longtime or even lapsed baseball fans, this could have been a World Series to remember: the Chicago Cubs against the Boston Red Sox, two of the oldest franchises in baseball, playing in two of the oldest and most fabled surviving ball parks in the majors, and two teams with very early glory and decades of futility, heartbreak and self-inflicted disasters.

Instead we may get the most boring of possibilities: the Yankees and the Marlins. Well, more time to read.

On the Road II

Back now. The last day in San Francisco began with what's becoming a quintessential city experience, the trip to reclaim a car from city towing. Not enough to give a ticket at a little past 9 a.m. for parking in a zone a bumpkin like me has never heard of, which mandates you disappear your car between 7 and 9 a.m. during the morning commute. It was stupid, but the stupidity-or at least the oversight-was shared. Fortunately, reclaiming the car was fairly painless, except for the repulsive cost. The city of San Francisco does it very efficiently; it's apparently just another part of the car business, like that particular car's home, a rental lot.

The drive back included an unexpectedly close view of a forest fire in southern Humboldt. It was a flare-up of a fire that had been under control. From 101 we could see rivelets of smoking trees and at one point some flames at the top of a hill. It was a small enough fire that 101 remained open, and also that we could be so close to it. Even a fire this small in scale was an awesome, as also in awe-ful and awe-inspiring, sight.

The good news of the trip is the on again, off again assignment for a story on a project investigating the influence of Buddhism in the arts is on again, this time in probably the best possible venue, the Sunday Datebook section of the Chronicle. It was neat meeting people at the Chronicle, some I'd worked with by phone and email, some not. And getting reacquainted with Kenneth Baker, who I haven't seen since I was his editor at the Boston Phoenix in the early 1970s. Nice to know that my younger self made a lasting good impression.

My day in the Zen Center was a mixed experience. I didn't feel like I spent much time there really---I had hardly settled in my very pleasant room in the afternoon (and a brief moment in the lovely Japanese tea garden) before I had to go off to Berkeley again to attend a performance for this story. When I got back I could read for only awhile before sleeping, since I was to be up early for meditation instruction and the Saturday lecture and discussion. I did pick up a few pointers on the sitting meditation, and the lecture was good. I liked being in the group for meditation and lecture, but I have to say that as a fervently lapsed Catholic, even though I believe in ceremony and ritual, the priesty robes and apparent hierarchies, the bowing before statues etc., made me a bit nervous.

The day took a different turn when more or less on the spur of the moment I headed down to the ballyard, bought a great seat from an independent vendor, and saw my first Giant's game at Pac Bell Park. Two spiritual experiences in one Saturday! I watched Barry Bonds many times as a Pittsburgh Pirate, from his rookie year to his last in the burgh, but this was the first time I'd seen him since. The crowd was fun, there were some nice fielding plays, but it was not a good game for the Giants or Barry. It's a great park. ESPN's exhaustive survey rated it the second best in the majors, with PNC Park in Pittsburgh being the best---which is where I saw a game last summer. I liked this park better, but I suspect it was because of the feeling in it---people knew the Giants are a good team, and they're on their way to the playoffs. There were some great teams in Pittsburgh when I went to games at Three Rivers and Forbes Field, but that was a long time ago.

So that's the chatty blog stuff about the trip. Still a bit fatigued, but I'll be back to my usual trenchant blather soon.

Devil or Angel

For anyone familiar with Kobe Bryant, the Lakers and the NBA, his indictment on the charge of sexual assault is mind-boggling. For those who aren't, or don't really care, the charge and the trial will become something more symbolic, or else the usual perverse form of entertainment these public incidents of private travails become in the tabloid cable TV talk radio universe. The situation is rife with potential candidates for symbols, with race and gender likely to move to the top past the current contrast (both more and less than meets the eye) of world celebrity from the big city and unknown teenager from the smallest of towns.

But one bifurcation is already emerging, thanks in part to Bryant's admission that he committed adultery with the woman in question, and that's: good guy or bad guy, role model or degenerate, hero or villain, devil or angel.

I don't know if Kobe Bryant is guilty of the charge of forcing sex on the woman whose name we do not know. I believe in a person's innocence until proven guilty, and additionally, I would be surprised if he is guilty. The charge is a matter of law, and will be settled in the legal system. Forcing sex on someone is wrong. But as much as is known about the situation so far leads me to believe that the moral responsibilities will never be clear to anyone but the people involved, if indeed it is ever clear to them. Right now it seems likely that Bryant believes the sex was consensual, and right now the alleged victim believes it was forced. The scary possibility is that they each thought the same thing while it was happening.

Bryant has already admitted to error and very bad judgment. Some people profess terrible disappointment in Kobe because he admitted adultery. Some columnists bray about the fallen idol, the Mr. Clean, Mr. Perfect Image now in tatters, oh how the mighty are fallen. (A friend of mine who is a gossip columnist once suggested that there are really only a few stories people want to hear about stars, and they form a neat sort of arc: The Struggle to Succeed, the Mighty Fall, the Comeback.)

We may insist that our mythic figures follow simple two-dimensional story lines, but as Kobe Bryant pointed out in his press conference, he's a human being. Our insistence that celebrities be one thing or the other is part of what we think should constitute our ideal self.

"Devil or angel?" the old song asks; dozens of old songs ask. We can't admit to ourselves that we are both. Sure, in our American Christian culture, we are good but have sin inside us, which must be rooted out when the devil makes us do bad things. It's that attitude that has turned so many psychological insights into the kind of victimization litanies that earn the ire if not the charity of cultural analysts.

Even the Judeo part of our dominant heritage shades this way. There is no actual Devil in the Hebrew Old Testament, says author Amelia Wilson in her book called The Devil, but there is a figure called "ha/satan" who is more of an adversary than a wholly evil entity.

That's a little better, for there's some symbolic sense that we aren't helpless, we can choose, and we contend against "someone" whose position we consciously oppose. Still, there's the sense that Satan is outside us, and that he's an enemy out to destroy us.

A more useful concept, it seems to me, is the Jungian idea of the Shadow. The shadow is everything we are that we reject in our daily life. It includes being too good for our own good, but mostly it's the dark stuff, that has remained unconscious for perhaps any of several reasons. For example, the Shadow holds emotions, energies, actions, that either once had survival value in our genetic history, or it is the impulse and energy itself that had and still has survival value, but it got linked to behavior that is not beneficial to us now. Not to mention harmful to others.

The Shadow has several advantages as a concept. First, it is inside us (though like all aspects of the unconscious it is at least partially shared with our culture, society, our species). Second, in itself it is morally neutral. Third, it is not all bad. The energies of the unconscious are vital to us as functioning, creating, passionate human beings.

Eruptions from the unconscious feel natural; powerful feelings from the Shadow can propel us to commit bad acts. We want to be good, and sometimes we are bad. ("Sin" as James Hillman tells us originated as an archery term, meaning "missing the mark." Or missing the jump shot.) The Jungian remedy is consciousness. You become conscious of exactly what is in your Shadow, how it manifests, and then you choose: you find ways to control and channel those impulses, without denying them and calling them evil.

It's more complicated than that, of course. There are lots of books on the Shadow, but one of the most useful I've found is also one of the shortest: Owning Your Own Shadow by Robert A. Johnson. "Heaven and skid row are separated only by an act of consciousness," Johnson writes. But he also suggests ways of expressing the Shadow, of using Shadow energies, and keeping yourself in balance.

And that's the key, and the key benefit of the concept. One of the most effective ways of inviting the Shadow to suddenly erupt in a really bad act is to deny it, is to tell yourself you've conquered it, you're a really good person now; in fact, you're perfect.

Maybe that's the lesson in that celebrity story, that part of the arc: the mighty is fallen. Kobe Bryant seems like an admirable young man---intelligent, thoughtful, perceptive, emotionally expressive, morally centered, well-mannered and cultured. But he probably also cultivated an image of the perfect hero. He reportedly was insulted when a reporter joked about the opportunities for sexual misbehavior on a trip to Brazil; he would never commit adultery, he said.

Then he did. That doesn't mean he committed rape, or even that he had the impulse to be violent. It also doesn't mean he's a hypocrite, that he has lost all credibility, that he's not a fundamentally good person who has worked hard at it under pressures most of us will never comprehend. But it is an object lesson for all of us. The more we deny Kobe Bryant's humanity, the more we are probably denying our own.

At his press conference, Bryant sounded like he'd learned this. He spoke of being furious with himself, and humiliated. He interjected the statement that "I'm a human being just like everybody else. I mourn. I cry, like everybody else." Mourning would not seem to be at issue, but it's an interesting and suggestive choice. It is in mourning and going through the valleys, our private trips through hell, that we get in touch with our humanity. That the image of Kobe Bryant will never be the same may not be a bad thing, for him or for us.

(I realize this intepretation depends on granting Kobe credibility, that he's being honest. I am assuming he is. He's no Linda Tripp, saying "I'm you." He's saying who he is.)

But it isn't just the mighty who have a mighty fall once in awhile. James Hillman suggests that one reason the infighting in academia, or among poets or environmentalists, is often so vicious and ugly, worse than politicians who vilify each other and then go have dinner together, is that people in these groups are used to believing themselves supremely virtuous, whereas politicians know what they are. But the Shadow won't be denied.

Jung chiseled a motto in stone above his doorway, that said something like : "Invited or not, the gods will be present." The gods he meant weren't just the good gods. They were the very good and very bad gods of India, the mixed blessings (at best) of the Greek and Roman gods. (They include our internal furies, that can make us furious with ourselves.) We have all those gods inside us, just as sure as we're made of atoms. And invited or not, the Shadow will enter.

It seems to me that our societal refusal to admit the presence of good and evil, of devil and angel within each of us, invites criminal behavior as a consequence of our hypocrisy. You can catch a glimpse of that kind of energy working through psychopaths sometimes; they sneer at society for not admitting its evils, because we can't admit we can be good and still do evil. In some ways they express the violence we deny.

We do admit it indirectly. We love the outlaw hero. We root for the Dionysian energy to be expressed in a movie like "The Banger Sisters" or in the Dionysian rock stars that film references, especially Jim Morrison (and there has hardly ever been a more clearly Dionysian movie than Oliver Stone's "The Doors.") But we want to keep it at a safe distance.

That can be part of a healthy approach to the Shadow. But it can't be our whole agenda. Other cultures have had much more respect for the forces of nature, including the forces within us. The words "terrible" and "awesome" express different shades of that respect: each also means the other. Those forces work on us and in us, but we have these tools: consciousness, knowledge, honesty, discernment, courage, responsibility, conscience, respect, sorrow, regret, patience, joy. In this sense, we are neither devil nor angel because we are both.

NBA Update
At the moment, with the charge against Kobe Bryant just officially made, it's a little hard to think about just basketball. But sorting that out will take time. Though it casts a shadow on the upcoming season, and may be felt on the court, there is a great deal that's utterly amazing in almost the opposite way about what's happened with the Lakers in the past month.

The three-time NBA champs (2000, 2001, 2002) entered the free agent market with needs and aspirations and not a lot of money to spend. Not certainly as much as the reigning champs (2003) San Antonio Spurs. Point guard Gary Payton seemed beyond possibility. Nobody much thought it was worth even trying to tempt Karl Malone, since it would take all the money they had, they probably wouldn't get him and if they did, he alone wouldn't be enough.

So what happened? They got them both: Payton and Malone. Malone, a former MVP, is a certain Hall of Fame player. Gary Payton is a fairly likely one. They signed on partly because they wanted to play together, and because they wanted to play on a championship team, with a great coach. They gave up a lot of money (yes-NBA players gave up money!) to play for the Lakers, which of course, was totally unpredictable.

And so far, the Spurs got nada. The team they built last year may jell more firmly next year, but it might just as easily fall apart. Ditto the Sacramento Kings.

The Lakers could start four future Hall of Famers, plus young Deavon George who showed a lot of potential in 2002, had a so-so season last year, but conceivably could have a Hall of Fame caliber career ahead of him. PLUS they still have two more of their key players in those three championships: Derek Fisher and Rick Fox. PLUS they signed two potentially valuable draft picks,who could bring some young energy. And there are still some players out there they might get.

Their only real loss is Robert Horry, who was an indispensable asset in their playoffs runs: smart and skillful on defense and offense. His subpar season last year may mean his knees have finally been played out, so it's hard to say how valuable he would be next year. It's also not clear that either of the two star veterans will quite fulfill the role played by Brian Shaw and Ron Harper; the veteran leader who can come in and settle the team down, get them back in their groove and make a few crucial plays.

It's also not clear whether this group will constitute a team. Some foresee chaos and dissension. Lots of teams complain about Shaq's physical play, but the Lakers never display the kind of on-court thugishness that Malone and Payton have in the past. Of course I'll have to defer to Shaq's friendship with Payton, and Magic Johnson's embrace of Malone, whose comments on Magic and HIV shortened Magic Johnson's comeback as a player. But getting them to all play together and play like a Lakers team will be Phil Jackson's most formidable challenge. If he succeeds, the results could be awesome. The style of the Lakers game will undoubtedly change. With Payton handling the ball, Bryant can fly down the court. With Malone boxing out for rebounds, Shaq can get out on the break, or vice versa: Lakers "showtime" could be back.

But the truly scary thing about this team (for other teams) is its depth. All four of the H of Famers don't have to be on the court at the same time for the Lakers to wreak havoc. They can now sustain an injury or other absense without fatal consequences (their lack of depth last year was obvious in the playoffs.) And Jackson has all year to finetune the particular combination of players he can use for specific situations, match-ups and defenses. Wow.

The NBA brass must be ecstatic. A lackluster season and a barely watched finals are gone. Now the most watched team promises to bring a lot of excitement---and if it all works out, they're gonna score a lot of points.

The NBA free agent season has begun. The Lakers are looking at a number of them, though they can dangle less money than championship potential in front of those available. Karl Malone was the first to visit L.A. He would add a third scorer when he played power forward, and even at 40 he can still play. But how much would he play? He can't play Laker defense, and the Lakers defense is crucial in the playoffs. Now that Robert Horry's option hasn't been picked up, they don't have a gifted defender at that position. And I wonder how Malone would fit in with this team, and whether he's coachable anymore.

The Lakers apparently want Gary Payton the most, for their starting point guard presumably. The b-ball savants say they probably won't get him--that somebody will offer him too much more money so the prospect of winning a ring won't override it. I hope so. I don't think Payton would fit into this team. He's always seemed to me to be kind of a jerk.

So Scotty Pippen is beginning to look better and better---a scoring forward who can play intense defense. But the word is that the Chicago Bulls, of all the teams in the universe, are trying hard to get him, and may offer a front office job when he retires as part of the package.

There are a couple of younger mature players---P.J. Brown and Juwan Howard among them---the Lakers would like to look at, but it will depend on the bucks other teams offer. San Antonio has so much room under the salary cap that they can pursue a big name, like Jason Kidd, and still have the bucks to buy off somebody just so the Lakers won't get him. If they get Kidd the question for next year will be how well that team jells---I think it's fifty-fifty that it will improve that much. Sacramento may have peaked as well. I think (and Phil, I know you're waiting for my words of wisdom here) that with the pretty cool draft picks they got, if they get Ty Lue as a free agent, make Medvedenko a starter and re-sign Mark Madsen and Byron Scott, they may not need one of these name free agents. They need a steadying veteran like Scott or Horace Grant, and they could sure use another scorer, but they mostly need the speed and enthusiasm that Lue, Medvedenko, Madsen and the draft picks (including the young Walton) might supply.

Though I still think, Phil, you ought to give Michael a call. One more championship together. Could be irresistable. And he's always made more on endorsements than salary anyway. The league would be ecstatic. Ratings will not be a problem.

But no reason to listen to me. Just because I predicted that San Antonio would win games 5 and 6 and the championship.

Hi there sports fans. Apparently people are bored to death by the NBA finals this year between the San Antonio Spurs and New Jersey Nets. The ratings are terrible through four games.

You can save yourself having to watch any more of them by reading this: the Spurs have won the past two series in the same way-they've had pretty good games and stinky games through the first four, and then they won the fifth and sixth games to win the series. And that's just what's going to happen in the finals.

In the meantime I have been watching tapes of previous playoffs, most recently from 2001, when the Lakers won every game of every round except the first game of the finals, which they lost to the 76ers in overtime. It's been very interesting, and I hope somebody on the Lakers staff is doing the same thing.

Because there's lessons for what they need to do in the off-season evident from watching them in their heyday of dominance. Shaq was more active, athletic, focused and motivated than he was most of the time in 2003. He probably will return to form next year, and apparently Phil Jackson and he have already talked about this, about Shaq earning another MVP as well as another championship ring.

Kobe Bryant was brilliant at times, and at times over-excitable. He's gotten more mature and though he can still be uneven, he can be even more brilliant. He's having shoulder surgery soon, due to an injury early in the playoffs (2001 was also the only year he didn't have some kind of injury or illness during the playoffs in the last four years) but the change in his off-season routine may do him good. At least he's getting his surgery early enough that he'll be recovered before the season starts.

But the real lesson is what else they had in 2001. A strong and experienced power forward in Horace Grant. The Lakers are well aware of that problem. But what I learned to appreciate more was speed. The 2001 Lakers were faster than the Spurs, but the reverse was true in 2003. And though the 76ers won the first game of the finals partly because of the speed of their game on both offense and defense (and the Lakers' rust and bad conditioning after being off for 10 days), they were able to come back because they reasserted their speed. Against the Spurs and especially against the 76ers, they added speed to their lineup off the bench, with Tyron Lue. (I doubt that I'm spelling that right.)

I remembered Lue did a great job guarding/hounding Allen Iverson, but I had forgotten the contributions he made with other elements of his game. He brought the ball up through pressure, used speed and quickness to drive and pass, and he could shoot the 3.

He must have impressed Doug Collins, who was on the NBC team broadcasting the games, because when he became the coach of the Washington Wizards the next season, Lue was playing for him.

Now Lue is available and is said to be very interested in returning to the Lakers. This is a real no-brainer---they've got to get him. He's played their system before, he's gotten even better playing with Michael Jordan, and he's still fast.

So Kobe, I know you read this blog faithfully, so whisper his name in the correct ears, and let's get Lue for the Lakers next year.

Ears? Is this some kind of theme?

Inside Sports: Lakers (Final Edition)

This is a blog, right? I can do what I want.

Last week the San Antonio Spurs took away the Lakers chance at a fourth straight NBA championship. There was a certain symmetry to it. The Lakers had regularly humiliated the Spurs during the playoffs for the last several years, often because the Spurs collapsed in the fourth quarter. This year in the sixth game the Spurs were very determined to win the fourth quarter, and it was the Lakers who collapsed. The series was essentially won in the fifth game. Last year it was clear to me that whichever team won the fourth game in the Lakers-Sacramento Kings series would win that series, and would then win the NBA championship. I felt the same way about the fifth game of this year's Lakers-Spurs series. Last year the Lakers won the fourth game on a last second three point shot by Robert Horry. This year the Lakers lost the fifth game on a last second three point shot by Robert Horry that went in, and came out. Their admirable comeback from 25 points behind in the third quarter fell just that short.

In the end it may have been sheer exhaustion that did them in. But now that Dallas has won the first game in the western conference finals, the Lakers should be really kicking themselves. If Kobe Bryant had hit that late fourth quarter free throw in the first game, they would have won that one. If Robert Horry's shot had gone down, they would have won that game. Despite losing one of their starters (Rick Fox), having his replacement miss a game and a half and be hobbled for much of the rest of the series, watch their coach go off for a heart operation, plus play at an intensity they are no longer used to, every other day, with nagging injuries to Shaq, Kobe, Horry and probably Derek Fisher, they still almost beat the much deeper and younger Spurs. They handled Dallas pretty readily in the regular season, and might have had a far less stressful conference finals once they got past San Antonio.

But it was not to be, and now the Lakers team that won three championships will slowly or quickly break up. (Samaki Walker is certainly gone, and Robert Horry probably is.) There are precedents for teams that miss a year in a string of championships, but it's likely that next year is the Lakers last chance for awhile. If they pick up some superior young talent (if you consider Juwan Howard young) and perhaps one of those still able but aging free agents out there, like Karl Malone or Scottie Pippen (Pippen knows the system but may want too much bucks; anyway, my personal favorite is still getting Michael Jordan to play one more year for his favorite coach, who is probably will be coaching his last year), they can still make a run because they can still compete with San Antonio, Sacramento and Dallas. This was the iffy year anyway, since they couldn't afford to seriously improve the team because of salary caps. They have more room next year. We won't know until the finals if any of the eastern team can yet compete with almost any team from the west. But it would be a surprise.

As for me, my season is also over. Fortunately I've got three years of playoff victories on tape, to watch with pleasure and with no tension from the comfort of an exercise machine.

On Being A Lakers Fan


I grew up near Pittsburgh, PA, and my first sport as fan and player was baseball. The voice of Bob Prince, recognized as one of the classic baseball announcers of all time, was a background to my summers even before I was sure what the difference between "balls" and "strikes" was. I became aware of the Pittsburgh Pirates in 1958, when the team finished second to the Milwaukee Braves. Left fielder Bob Skinner batted .321 that year. Roberto Clemente batted .321 in 1959, a disappointing year in the standings. Then there was 1960.

I had started collecting baseball cards, and I also had a favorite American League team, the New York Yankees. Mickey Mantle, Whitey Ford, Yogi Berra, Moose Skowron, I had them all, and would lay out the cards in the diamond shape according to their positions for games of swatting a spitball sized wad of paper with the cardboard cards.

How well did I know the 1960 Pirates? For years I could go through the lineup and demonstrate the batting stance of each player. I can still list them by position. I saw games at Forbes Field, one of the old classic ballparks, the kind the new parks are trying to emulate. I shook hands with Roberto Clemente, Bill Virdon and a number of other players down on the field before a game. There is one game, or part of one game, I remember vividly. I was half asleep at a night game, the spray of beer from popping cans visible in the lights, in the tenth inning. Roy Face got us out of a jam and in the bottom half, somebody was on second base when Clemente came to bat.

Here's where the fan part comes in: if you were a Pirates fan, you knew the Clemente drill. He never hit the first pitch. He would often swing at it, swing so hard that his batting helmet would fly off, and so would his cap underneath it, and he'd probably fall down. But of course he often got spectacular hits later in the count. So everybody in the stands was just settling down, not paying a lot of attention to the first pitch. I know I wasn't, but I heard a clap of thunder, the roar, and looked up: and the game was over. Clemente had swung at the first pitch, and connected. He smoked a line drive that hit the chalk line on the right field fence. It really was chalk, and he'd hit it so hard that a cloud of chalk dust was still rising in the lights, like smoke from a cannon. The run came in from second, the Pirates had won.

My two favorite teams played each other in the 1960 World Series. But there was no question which one I was rooting for, was living and dying for. There was a kind of lottery for World Series tickets---you sent in your money, and you might get seats by the luck of the draw. I had good luck and bad luck. The good luck was getting tickets. The bad luck was getting them for the sixth game. The Pirates could have won the series that day, but they lost the game, 14-0 or maybe it was 16-0. It was awful. We sat in the left field bleachers and by the late innings, left fielder Gino Cimoli was talking to us. But I did get to see some of the Yankee greats, like Mantle and Maris, Tony Kubec, Bobby Richardson, Berra and so on. The next day the Pirates won the series on Bill Mazeroski's incredible ninth inning home run.

I was in my first year of high school. Some teachers let us listen to the game, most didn't. But the news of each inning, each batter, was passed from row to row, as the kids near the windows heard from radios in other rooms above and below. School was over just as the game was tied. Most of my classmates heard the final inning in the school bus, if at all. Drivers in Pittsburgh were refusing to go into the tunnels where they would lose radio for a minute or two, and pulled off the road. Our football team was gathered in the biggest classroom on the third floor watching it on TV, and that's where I saw the most famous hit in Pittsburgh history.

I played baseball every day in the summers, a few times at the Little League level (one team I played for was called the Ghosts. We played the Zombies and the Vampires) and I pitched for a Pony League team. At first I tried the elaborate windup of Wilmer "Vinegar Bend" Mizell, then Whitey Ford's, before settling on the more modest windup of Harvey Haddix (all lefthanders, as I was.) I hadn't thrown three pitches before I could hear the men who came to all the games---some of them fathers of players, but not all---commenting on my Haddix windup. I was a relief pitcher mostly (which had something to do with the fact that my father had no pull and seldom came to the games. Our coach worked for the father of our starting pitcher.) I won 3, lost none, saved a couple. I kept my own stats.

Football came into my life when I went to my first high school game with a neighbor kid, Corky Cocheletti, who became a famous male model in the 70s, and was engaged for awhile to Pam Dawber; we still see him on TV commercials. The NFL was small potatoes then; most of the excitement was for college football: Pitt and Penn State, Notre Dame, Army and Navy. Seeing the game live was much more exciting. I don't know how old I was then, but I do remember nervously ordering an ice cream cone from the Hempfield Spartans' star quarterback at the Silvis's Dairy store where he worked in the summer. He got it wrong.

I was an avid fan of our high school team (the Greensburg Central Catholic Centurions), even though I wasn't on good terms with a number of the players. Besides daily games of touch football at school, I played in various informal and intermural games in junior high and high school, and had a few moments of anonymous glory catching passes and running back kicks.

It wasn't until after college and a period in my life when sports seemed irrelevant if not warmaking in another form, and while I was living in Boston, that the Pittsburgh Steelers became a very good team. When I returned to western PA I was amazed at how thoroughly Pittsburgh had been transformed into a football city. Of course I became an avid Steelers fan, too, in the 1970s when they won four Super Bowls. Between the last two, the Pirates won the 1979 World Series. I got myself a story assignment that led to meeting the stars of both teams: Terry Bradshaw, Mean Joe Greene, Lynn Swan, Willie Stargell, etc. I've even got Dave Parker on tape threatening me. (Unlike a lot of Pittsburghers, I liked Dave Parker, and I knew he was playing me.)

Those are the easy years to be a fan. But there were many other years of suffering and dying for games cost by a lost fumble on the last play, a string of errors that I would obsessively replay as I tried to get to sleep that night, or two bonehead interceptions that lost the damn Super Bowl.

But those are my hometown teams, the Pittsburgh Steelers and the Pittsburgh Pirates, and they're my hometown teams for life, good or bad, win or lose, live or die. I follow and root for other teams closer to where I live now---the San Francisco Giants, the As, the Niners, even the Raiders---but never against the teams from Pittsburgh.

(It helps that a player I often went to Three Rivers to see wound up in San Francisco. Barry Bonds wasn't the most popular player on the Pirates, but I always liked him. His last year there was the last I went to games at Three Rivers, not long before I left the city. The last game I saw there Bonds got four or five hits, all line drives hit unbelievably hard, to different fields. But my best 3 Rivers memory was sitting behind home plate when Bobby Bonilla hit a home run. I was in the perfect position to watch his swing (left handed, like me), and watch the ball---it was the closest I came to feeling what hitting a major league homer was like.)

But Pittsburgh doesn't have, and never had, a National Basketball Association team. (The Pittsburgh Penguins with Mario Lemieux won several championships when I lived in Pittsburgh, but though I watched a few of the Penguins' Stanley Cup games, and that famous U.S. Olympic team in 1980, I've never liked hockey.) Pittsburgh had pro basketball teams a time or two, before pro basketball was anywhere near as big as it is now. For awhile they had one of the better teams in a long-gone league, but it didn't make much of a ripple in the city. The Pittsburgh Pipers played at the Civic Arena, and attendance was so bad that they had to sell tickets by scheduling high school games there as preliminaries. My high school played there, which is how I got to see one of the all-time basketball greats, Connie Hawkins, who played for Pittsburgh.

I played basketball at about the same level as those other sports---small time or semi-organized leagues and teams. My few moments of glory as second-highest scorer playing for the intermural champs of my high school (the joke being that we were the National Honor Society team, who beat the Letter Men Club of athletes except for varsity basketball players, two years in a row) were played to utterly empty stands. There's nothing like the echoes in an empty gym. My feelings about sports are tinged with this melancholy: being sort of good, sort of athletic, but never good enough, or tall enough for basketball, or heavy enough for football on a varsity level. You learn very quickly that it's the athletes who play well early, rather than those who might have potential, that get all the attention from coaches and so on.

I like basketball as a sport, and it's a great sport to watch on TV. Without a hometown team I'm free to pick the team I follow. After a brief look at the Celtics, I went with the Los Angeles Lakers, mostly because of Kareem Jabar and Magic Johnson. When they retired, I followed the Chicago Bulls and Michael Jordan. When the Bulls team was broken up, and after a decent mourning period, I started looking at the Lakers again, with Shaq and Kobie.

My feeling was simple: you can't pick your hometown team but when you have a choice, why not the best? Why not pick a winner, and save yourself a lot of aggravation? Besides, the joy of the sport is in following those who play it best. It's not for nothing that when Michael Jordan retired (again) last night, he was given several standing ovations by the fans of a team he didn't play for. He was the best. He was an artist, who changed the art form.

You learn about winning and about playing at a high level from winners and people who play at a high level. But it's not all flash and poetry. Who can forget Michael Jordan, so sick he could hardly stand, outplaying everybody on the court, willing his team to win in the NBA finals? How to deal with pressure, how to deal with injuries. Shaquille O'Neal is a dominating player, but when he's been hurt, his vulnerabilities show. Other teams take advantage, and he looks bad. But he plays, and his teammates find a way to use what he can do, and augment with what they can do. Right now Kobie Bryant is the most exciting player to watch in the NBA. These great players-Magic, Kareem, Michael, Kobie and Shaq-are admirable for what they represent in the game and generally as human beings. These teams played as teams, with professional demeanor. They had class.

I could go on. But after three straight titles, being a Lakers fan this year is a different experience. They're vulnerable. Other teams have improved and they haven't. They are a dependably good player short. Winning the title this year is not a given, and will very difficult. It will be especially painful if they lose to Sacramento, a city that is closer to where I live than is LA, but it's a team I don't respect. They're talented but otherwise, they're losers. Chris Weber turns me off. But the Lakers might not even get that far. The conventional wisdom is that they did well to get Minnesota in the first round rather than Dallas. I don't agree. I think Minnesota is more dangerous.

Being a fan, even an elective one, means you don't desert your team in tough times. So I'm still a Lakers fan, and will be as long as Kobie and Shaq play, and Phil Jackson coaches. Of course, Michael Jordan is officially unemployed at the moment. I wonder if he'd be interested in playing for his old coach, just for the playoffs???