duncan228
04-08-2008, 10:39 AM
http://www.ocregister.com/articles/kobe-bryant-la-2013406-lakers-nba
Ding column: Bryant's genes, work led him here
KEVIN DING
You know Kobe Bryant's father played in the NBA. His mother's brother did, too. Looking back on it, you might say the genes preordained that he would be a basketball maven.
That, however, would be glossing over the work he has put in to maximize his considerable potential. And if you really want to talk about genetic potential, consider this never-before-told story:
Bryant's maternal grandmother, Mildred, went to West Philadelphia's Overbrook High School with Wilt Chamberlain.
"He asked her to the prom," Bryant said, smiling. "But she shot him down. She was dating my grandpa."
Just imagine … Bryant with Chamberlain blood! Crazy, huh?
"Bizarre," Bryant said. "That's kind of cool, though."
As it turns out, Bryant scored more points in high school than a certain other Pennsylvania schoolboy called "The Stilt" anyway. Then he actually came within shooting distance of Chamberlain's epic scoring. Yet only in this season, with Bryant surrendering the league scoring lead to LeBron James, has he achieved more than long-shot standing for the NBA's MVP award.
How did Bryant get here? Because Jerry Buss kept a poker face and Mitch Kupchak kept his cool, Andrew Bynum grew up and Pau Gasol jumped out of that giant gift cake, Lamar Odom stayed healthy and Derek Fisher reminded that having a trusted friend around is priceless.
He is here because Phil Jackson knew just how much Bryant could want to run away before eventually missing certain comforts of home, and he is here because media MVP voters know it's no longer chic to hate on Kobe, clearly the best player in the game.
Ask former critic Shaquille O'Neal. Upon being solicited recently for his MVP vote, O'Neal answered: "The Kobester."
But Bryant is also here because of Mildred's man, Bryant's maternal grandfather. John Cox died in 2001 — affecting Bryant more than he expected — and when Bryant had his second daughter five years later, she was named Gianna, the Italian feminine form of John.
He was not Wilt Chamberlain, but John Cox was the man in many other ways. While Bryant was growing up in Italy, Grandpa Cox was the one who sent Bryant stateside-produced videos of NBA stars for him to study, fueling Bryant's love for the game. That process also established Bryant's work ethic in basketball, which only this season got fully transmitted to a group of teammates.
And that's where this MVP award should be won — with all due respect to what Chris Paul, Kevin Garnett and James have done this season.
However others around the globe viewed Bryant's manic offseason, the important thing was that his Lakers teammates believed that his harsh words rose out of rich soil, not dry dirt. He wound up telling them he wanted to win a championship again, pure and simple — which they understood.
And so Bryant did the sort of thing he has always done — work — yet with more of an eye toward how it affected those around him. Listen closely to Jackson's performance review: "Just measuring what the team needs and how to get it done and including his teammates."
Even though the Lakers are playing at a faster pace this season, Bryant is down to 20.9 shots per game this season — only slightly higher than the 20 he averaged in the Lakers' three championship seasons. Two years ago, he took 27.2 shots per game.
The less he has shot, the more he has thought. He has made it a tradition that postgame showers are a place for honest, analytical discussions with teammates. As the sweat from the Feb. 29 loss in Portland was replaced by steam, Bryant was quoting the team's exact, ugly 3-point tally and promising that next time the Lakers would take away certain Trail Blazers' favorite shots.
On Wednesday, by doing what Bryant already had in mind then, the Lakers avenged that loss to Portland. And more than an hour after that game ended, there was Bryant … just getting to his Range Rover in the Staples Center tunnel, the last Lakers employee to leave the office.
Even though Bryant came to doubt it, this is how he wanted to do it all along — rebuilding the Lakers from the ground up. Hard work, indeed, but just the kind that John Cox, Philadelphia firefighter, always undertook with a stone face — including that summer when he visited Bryant in L.A. to close the rift between Bryant and his parents.
If Minnesota had accepted Bynum and Odom for Garnett last summer, no way would it have felt like this.
Bear in mind why Bryant changed his number (and would have changed it if the league had let him for that first Shaq-less season that crash-landed in the lottery): because he wore No. 24 as a freshman on the Lower Merion High varsity team that went 4-20.
Three years of work later, Bryant brought that team a state championship and won every national prep MVP award.
It has now been three years since Bryant and the Lakers struggled to that 34-48 record. Bryant has worked before — but never quite worked this way.
It's the work of the NBA MVP.
Ding column: Bryant's genes, work led him here
KEVIN DING
You know Kobe Bryant's father played in the NBA. His mother's brother did, too. Looking back on it, you might say the genes preordained that he would be a basketball maven.
That, however, would be glossing over the work he has put in to maximize his considerable potential. And if you really want to talk about genetic potential, consider this never-before-told story:
Bryant's maternal grandmother, Mildred, went to West Philadelphia's Overbrook High School with Wilt Chamberlain.
"He asked her to the prom," Bryant said, smiling. "But she shot him down. She was dating my grandpa."
Just imagine … Bryant with Chamberlain blood! Crazy, huh?
"Bizarre," Bryant said. "That's kind of cool, though."
As it turns out, Bryant scored more points in high school than a certain other Pennsylvania schoolboy called "The Stilt" anyway. Then he actually came within shooting distance of Chamberlain's epic scoring. Yet only in this season, with Bryant surrendering the league scoring lead to LeBron James, has he achieved more than long-shot standing for the NBA's MVP award.
How did Bryant get here? Because Jerry Buss kept a poker face and Mitch Kupchak kept his cool, Andrew Bynum grew up and Pau Gasol jumped out of that giant gift cake, Lamar Odom stayed healthy and Derek Fisher reminded that having a trusted friend around is priceless.
He is here because Phil Jackson knew just how much Bryant could want to run away before eventually missing certain comforts of home, and he is here because media MVP voters know it's no longer chic to hate on Kobe, clearly the best player in the game.
Ask former critic Shaquille O'Neal. Upon being solicited recently for his MVP vote, O'Neal answered: "The Kobester."
But Bryant is also here because of Mildred's man, Bryant's maternal grandfather. John Cox died in 2001 — affecting Bryant more than he expected — and when Bryant had his second daughter five years later, she was named Gianna, the Italian feminine form of John.
He was not Wilt Chamberlain, but John Cox was the man in many other ways. While Bryant was growing up in Italy, Grandpa Cox was the one who sent Bryant stateside-produced videos of NBA stars for him to study, fueling Bryant's love for the game. That process also established Bryant's work ethic in basketball, which only this season got fully transmitted to a group of teammates.
And that's where this MVP award should be won — with all due respect to what Chris Paul, Kevin Garnett and James have done this season.
However others around the globe viewed Bryant's manic offseason, the important thing was that his Lakers teammates believed that his harsh words rose out of rich soil, not dry dirt. He wound up telling them he wanted to win a championship again, pure and simple — which they understood.
And so Bryant did the sort of thing he has always done — work — yet with more of an eye toward how it affected those around him. Listen closely to Jackson's performance review: "Just measuring what the team needs and how to get it done and including his teammates."
Even though the Lakers are playing at a faster pace this season, Bryant is down to 20.9 shots per game this season — only slightly higher than the 20 he averaged in the Lakers' three championship seasons. Two years ago, he took 27.2 shots per game.
The less he has shot, the more he has thought. He has made it a tradition that postgame showers are a place for honest, analytical discussions with teammates. As the sweat from the Feb. 29 loss in Portland was replaced by steam, Bryant was quoting the team's exact, ugly 3-point tally and promising that next time the Lakers would take away certain Trail Blazers' favorite shots.
On Wednesday, by doing what Bryant already had in mind then, the Lakers avenged that loss to Portland. And more than an hour after that game ended, there was Bryant … just getting to his Range Rover in the Staples Center tunnel, the last Lakers employee to leave the office.
Even though Bryant came to doubt it, this is how he wanted to do it all along — rebuilding the Lakers from the ground up. Hard work, indeed, but just the kind that John Cox, Philadelphia firefighter, always undertook with a stone face — including that summer when he visited Bryant in L.A. to close the rift between Bryant and his parents.
If Minnesota had accepted Bynum and Odom for Garnett last summer, no way would it have felt like this.
Bear in mind why Bryant changed his number (and would have changed it if the league had let him for that first Shaq-less season that crash-landed in the lottery): because he wore No. 24 as a freshman on the Lower Merion High varsity team that went 4-20.
Three years of work later, Bryant brought that team a state championship and won every national prep MVP award.
It has now been three years since Bryant and the Lakers struggled to that 34-48 record. Bryant has worked before — but never quite worked this way.
It's the work of the NBA MVP.