Crunch time: stuck in the deepest hole of the Phil Jackson era, the Lakers have set up their most arduous finals run yet��and that's if they even make the playoffs

AT THE END OF 1961'S "THE FALL OF the Roman Empire--an earlier, and far superior, version of the too-gloomy "Gladiator"--the most cacophonic chaos imaginable reigns. Houses are being broken into and sacked, people are injuring each other indiscriminantly, and decent folks are charioting themselves out of town with scant success. The screaming is copious, the fighting furious, the drinking lascivious. And in the middle of all this, filthy rich merchants, and filthier rich noblemen, are unashamedly bargaining with tribunes and the rest of the military for the throne--"60,000,000 sestercies," "70,000,000 sestercies!" 80!"--right out in file open street.

Such a mess wouldn't be seen for another 2,000 or so years. Now, welcome to Lakerland.

It was one thing when, at the start of the season, the three-time defending NBA champs played 3-9 ball sans Shaquille O'Neal. "With Shaq they're a great team," Sacramento Kings center Vlade Divac says. "Without him, they're an average team."

The problem has been that with Shaq, who finally returned to the wars on November 29, L.A. has remained an average-at-best team. And they had to improve a bit in mid-January just to get that less-than-impressive point.

Going just 12-11 over the next 23 games left the Lakers in an unimaginable situation: They might miss the playoffs altogether. And if they do make it to postseason, they'll most likely be such a sad seed that they'll have to defend their threepeat without the home-court advantage.

This just doesn't seem possible, not for a team with Shaq. And Kobe. And Phil. When you're talking of a gathering of such hoop royalty that last names are not even necessary--"Michael," "Charles," "Hakeem"--such collapse is unprecedented. Sure, a team such as the Lakers can lag and sag a bit They can have a good-to-great regular season and, say, lose in the second round of the playoffs. In seven games.

But this? This is nonsense. The Lakers' struggles come as a seismic shock for those of us--and, admit it, you are in there--who thought Shaq and Kobe could make a legitimate run at a four-peat teamed up with three sportswriters, a freelance shepherd, and a bipolar librarian.

Instead--and you can't say they haven't tried everything--the Lakers lost when Shaq pulverized them with words of venom and when Shaq cooed like a carrier pigeon. When Kobe took every shot and when Kobe took no shots. When they stuck to the Triangle and when they strayed from the Triangle. When Jackson Phil-osophized them to distraction and when Phil was so distracted that he barely talked to them.

It's all been just too, too much. And, perhaps, therein lies the problem.

THE DUDES

Shaq, who was wonderfully modest as a kid and quite Magic-ally human through his stint in Orlando, has been too big for too long in too many venues by this point. He's the greatest center of all time--and he knows it. To make it worse, "There are not a lot of great centers in the league today," Lakers assistant Tex Winter says. "Shaq is totally dominant. And I think he would take [Wilt] Chamberlain or [Bill] Russell, too. Chamberlain would just look small next to him. There is little doubt in my mind who would dominate that duel."

But has all this--the championships, the dominance, the adulation--left Shaq just a little lazy? "Let's put it this way," a team source says. "I don't think he's a fanatic any longer. I don't think he prepares his body in the offseason as he should."

Or has his toe-surgery when he should. An earlier date, and the Lakes don't stumble to a 3-9 start.

Kobe? Kobe is probably the best player not named Shaq in the league, "better than [Tracy] McGrady, better than [Kevin] Garnett," according to Winter. But Kobe is also a kid; a kid who shows up at the Rucker League over the summer with an entourage of bodyguards, hangers-on, and other assorted leeches. Yes, this is a kid who simply loves the trappings of stardom. A kid who is very much of today's me-generation.

"I think I know Kobe pretty well," an Eastern Conference GM says. "I talk to him all the time, I hung out with his father. I think he's not all that happy that Shaq's back. This is what's going through the back his mind: `I've done it all for the team. I won three championships. Now let me do something I've never accomplished--win an NBA scoring title."

THE 'TUDES

In mid-December, Shaq said, "just let me have eight blankety-blankers out there with me who want to play and I'll win the whole thing again." Then, in early January, he confessed to be "pissed to the ultimate height of pissification."

Then nothing. Silence, blessed or otherwise. Shaq stopped communing with the press.

Not good.

Kobe started out doing everything in Shaq's absence. Yet the team was losing--and he was accused of straying from the system--the inviolable Triangle, natch--overmuch.

In response, Kobe came up with games where he wouldn't shoot the ball at all, overtly passing up good shots to involve his teammates. As if he was pouting, "Screw you, if you don't want me to shoot that much, I won't shoot at all."

Not good.

That's not winning basketball. And the rest of the Lakers, three championships or not, are anything but a confident bunch. And their already shaky confidence was already shaken in the early going when they got off to that horrible Shaq-less start.

Rick Fox, visibly frozen from the pressure, has been playing like a stiff. Derek Fisher, in the best physical shape of his life, is in his worst mental shape ever. And when, in the waning moments of a January loss to Phoenix, newly-minted multimillionaire Devean George--a nonentity from some Div. VIII college a few years ago just signed for four years at $21 million--was jawing away and pointing at his teammates as if he was saying "It's not my bad, man!" you had to wonder if the fissure between the Big Two and the unwashed rest was un-fissable.

Devean George?

As wily oldster Brian Shaw spouted: "Look, it's all about Shaq. If you don't believe that, just ask him. And if it's all about Shaq, then what does he want from us? Let the big blankety-blank carry us."

THE SUPPORTING CAST

We never thought they were much good. (Except Robert Horry at playoff time, of course.) But three NBA championships in a row appeared to prove us wrong. Or was it just that Shaq and Kobe were that unstoppable?

Shaq-less, these guys stunk it up early. Fisher was .324 from the floor and .257 in treys. Fox flopped at .342 and .250. George, good lord, was .352 and .154.

Shaq-ful, they were still shooting a collective .393 from the floor. With the double-teams Shaq and Kobe command, that's pitiful.

Worse, Fox--ways the Master of the Intangibles--is doing no more little things than big things. Horry is not hitting big shots or small ones. Slava Medvedenko is still rebounding like a Lithuanian folk dancer. Fisher is often sieve-like on defense. And Samaki Walker was accused by Shaq of malingering with a bad back.

"They haven't played as well this season as they had last season," Kobe says. "That's just a fact." As a result, in all-too-many games Shaq and Kobe have had unreal numbers--and the Lakers still lost.

And that's another fact.

THE SYSTEM

Is the heretofore unquestioned Triangle to blame? Sacrilegiously enough, partly.

The terrific system--it has won nine NBA championships, bub--is based on constant movement by all five players, fully taking advantage of Shaq's unusual mobility and unreal passing ability for a big man. Everyone's involved, no one stands around. But, at the same time, the Triangle doesn't isolate players one-on-one, creating precious few dunks or layups. The good shots it creates are open jumpers.

Which, along with the Lakers non-pressuring "D" that is not aimed at forcing turnovers, means the L.A. role players don't get the chance to get that many really easy baskets that could enhance their confidence and get them on a roll. Basically, they sink the jumper--or sink.

It's also open to question whether The Triangle has responded sufficiently to the improved zone defenses many NBA teams have been throwing at the champs. Often, Shaq appears to be too swarmed. And the more-clogged-then-ever passing lanes have Kobe leading the league in turnovers.

THE SYSTEM (PART II)

Maybe it all comes down to this: Is today's NBA set up for a dynasty of more than three years? Is a four-year stretch of dominance beyond any team's means?

A four-peat may be impossible because the champion players must play too many playoff minutes in order to become champion players. Frankly, Horry, Shaw, and Fox--no spring chickens, they--look all beat up. In their three title runs, the Lakers have played 298 total regular-season and playoff contests--nearly 100 games per season.

Are these guys too old? Or is playing for a fourth title simply getting too old? Or is it a little bit of both?

Add in the constraints of salary cap and the luxury tax, and where is the new blood all teams need to refresh body and soul? The Lakers (with a payroll of $63 million, sixth highest in the league) could have added salary but owner Jerry Buss, fearful of the luxury tax, chose not to. L.A.'s biggest opponents, the Sacramento Kings and Dallas Mavericks, pay out even more in salary but have no such fears in adding new blood.

Meanwhile L.A. has acquired rookie Kareem Rush and veteran gunslinger Tracy Murray in trade. But, with the Triangle taking at least a year to fully absorb, neither is playing enough minutes to make any kind of a mark.

DEFENSE

Maybe none of this would matter one bit if O'Neal was himself. But he's not

Fast he wasn't there. Three up, nine down. That's one-seventh of the season.

Then there was the perhaps-understandable readjustment period--Shaq to the team, the team to him--during which the Lakers were still losing. Now he's at full force, with his offensive numbers at his usual superhuman level.

But he's not the same on defense. He's not nearly as active. His blocked shots are way down for the second year in a row. "Shaquille is just not as athletic or mobile as he used to be as a young guy," Jackson says. "He doesn't move quite the same. But that's been true for each of the last four years."

But not quite like this year, when O'Neal's failure to move his (perhaps still-aching) feet on screen rolls, get out and switch off his man with gusto, or come off the weak side as a rejector-intimidator has been signal. As a result, the Lakers' perimeter defense--the one that used to steer its man toward Shaq and then fogettaboutit--has been awful as well.

Almost midway through the season, the Lakers had yielded .420 shooting from the three-point line at a time when the league average was .350. Only eight players in the NBA were shooting better than .420. In other words, every team against the Lakers turns into Michael Redd. (Redd, possibly the league's best pure shooter, guns it at .417 from trey land.)

THE WEST

It's not like the Eastern Conference. Ifs still much denser with top teams. And, overall, just better.

Yes, the Western Conference ran through the first half of the season beating the heck out of the East head-to-head at a .590 rate (and that's including the CBA Denver Nuggets' 1-9 record). Which means the Lakers will have to face too many good teams night after night in their attempted climb back to the top (or just into the playoffs). And which also means that some of these teams may be too good to oblige the Lakers by losing enough so L.A. can get in.

Still, no one bets against Shaq and Kobe reaching the postseason. "But pretty soon they must run off a string of eight-out-of-10," Detroit Pistons president and GM John Hammond says. "Then lose a couple and run off another eight-out-of-10."

Can they do it? "Of course," Hammond says. But will they?

THE ENEMY

It's no secret they're improved. "I definitely think they've gotten better," Kobe says. "Everybody on the Kings has improved his game."

The Christmas Day Lakers-Kings game was very telling. Shaq was back to himself. Kobe was finished both with a pouting bout and a bout with the flu. L.A. was at home. It was a proving game.

In the first half, it was all good. Shaq's bod looked cut. Kobe was cutting the Kings "D" to ribbons. The supporting cast was supportive. The Lakers were up four at the half.

The second stanza, for lack of a better word, stunk Shaq, swarmed, shot 2-of-9, with both baskets coming in garbage time. Kobe was 1-for-9, defended right out of the game by Jackson.

That's Jimmy, the player of hereto-fore-questionable intensity, not the indispensable Bobby, who broke his left wrist in the third-quarter after an accidental chop by Shaq.

The Kings' big winning run, 17-1, started with a dunk by Keon Clark off a pass by Jimmy Jax.

Keon Clark and J.J, of course, were not with Sacramento last year. But the owners Maloof did not remain aloof to adding the seven-foot free agent superathlete for the $4.5 million exception (as were many other teams following Clark's marijuana arrest in June). And when Doug Christie, Hedo Turkoglu, Peja Stojakovic, and Mike Bibby struggled with assorted injuries, here came Jimmy Jax.

"I think we were better than the Lakers last year," Divac says. "But it doesn't matter what I think, we missed all those foul shots. The point is, we're not the same team this year. We're even better."

So is Dallas, an offensive juggernaut of a team that has learned to love defense. "Their zone is just so much better this season," NBA scout Walter Szczerbiak says. "Nellie convinced them to play D. And the key is Shawn Bradley." Yes, anyone who stands at 7'6" can be a defensive key--if he wants to be. "Brad's like a changed man" Szczerbiak says.

In the East, the Jason Kidd-fueled New Jersey Nets are playing better D than ever--and are doing so without injured addition Dikembe Mutombo. "I laugh when I hear people say, "They're better of without Deke," Hammond says. "Wait till the playoffs. Deke is a mountain around the hoop once the game slows down into a half-court affair."

The Indiana Pacers don't even care. One of the youngest teams in the NBA, they've emerged this year because they have the versatility and depth to withstand any style. "One through 15--yes, even the guys on the injured list--we can play," rocklike forward Ron Artest says. "We can face off with anyone and have a great chance to win in a four-out-of-seven."

Unless the opponent is--you guessed it--the Lakers. And the reason is--you guessed it--Shaq.

"If they get to the playoffs, they'll have a great chance getting all the way to the Finals again," Hammond says. "Hey, they've done it too many times to think otherwise. And the big guy, he's completely unstoppable. So if he's healthy and primed ... well, I'd never bet against the Lakers at crunch time."

Yes, the Lakers could easily find "it," whatever "it" is. "It's like we're carrying this big bag of frustration and burdens on our shoulders," Fox says. "But we're letting go, I think. We're getting better at it."

"This is the ultimate challenge," adds Kobe. "People would look back at this if we pull through and say `that was a hell of a team, wasn't it?'"

Could all this come down to L.A. being just bored a little bit and looking for new worlds to conquer? "I'd never bet against Shaq," Hammond says.

If the Lakers can get themselves refocused and recommitted, who would?

COPYRIGHT 2003 Century Publishing
COPYRIGHT 2003 Gale Group