That box labeled `Jordan' might not hold Bryant

Sporting News, The, June 11, 2001 by Dave D'Alessandro

More and more, this season is taking the shape of one player's time line, one that curved sharply and doubled back on him until it resembled a concentric circle of hell.

The season has been defined by Kobe Bryant--22 years old, professional crowd-pleaser, glamorous yet mature, no distinguishing scars--and the idiotic expectations that continue to follow him, month by month.

December: His 32-point scoring average and human pyrotechnics made him the greatest player in the universe, one worthy of comparisons to Michael Jordan.

January: His occasionally wild play incited Shaquille O'Neal to issue the snarling reminder that the Lakers were his team, and that all suggestions to the contrary were counterproductive to the repeat effort.

February: A sprained ankle forced him to sit out for the first time in the season--for three games February 21, 23 and 25. The Lakers won all three, including one at San Antonio, validating Shaq's claim that he can carry a team better than Kobe.

March: His coach officially chose a side, broadcasting to the world by way of a March 21 Chicago Sun-Times column that Kobe was inherently selfish. Phil Jackson even accused his star of once shaving points in high school to set himself up as a hero. The pile-on had begun, with Jackson's blessing.

April: His sense that things could slip away inspired a subtle change in his game, and the Lakers decided they would stop losing altogether.

May: His astonishing performance through three rounds of the playoffs convinced everyone that Bryant truly is the second coming of Michael Jordan. Or, if you prefer, that Michael Jordan was the first coming of Kobe Bryant.

In other words, for those of you who slept through the winter, you didn't miss much. Kobe still is the greatest player anyone ever has seen--or so say the scribes who were so certain of this assessment that they picked him to be on the All-NBA second team last week.

But what is especially difficult to laugh off is the recurring Jordan comparison. The media ws host for the coronation and then just as quickly stripped Bryant of the crown--just as they had with Penny Hardaway, Jerry Stackhouse and Vince Carter.

Of course, the media can take only some of the blame. Bryant's brilliance through the first two rounds of the playoffs against two terribly overmatched teams--the Blazers and Kings--served as a reminder he is not merely a dominant player, but a transcendent one. The real turning point came during and after the first game of Western Conference finals, when Bryant spent an afternoon finding holes in the vaunted Spurs defense that no one knew existed. He scored 45 points, half of which came on layups or dunks. He had 10 rebounds. He tore San Antonio's heart out, and the series was essentially decided after one game. That's when O'Neal took it upon himself to say what was already on everyone's mind.

"I told Kobe today that he was my idol," Shaq said, roughly four months after insisting the Lakers' offense wasn't big enough for the two of them. "I think he's the best player in the league, by far."

Horace Grant amplified this by announcing, "That No. 2 3 had a great game," noting this was not a Freudian slip. And by the time the sweep mercifully was over, Bryant's numbers for the series were (excuse the term) Jordanesque: He averaged 33.3 points, 7 rebounds and 7 assists on 51 percent shooting in the four games.

But more significantly, the remarks from Shaq--didn't know he was the authority on wisdom, did you?--instantly made it acceptable again to describe his teammate in any glowing term one found handy. And in the NBA, there is no greater superlative than "Jordan."

Steve Kerr, who had a view from the opposing bench, called Bryant "the closest thing to M.J. I've ever seen. Of course, M.J. didn't have a Shaq to play with him--which actually makes what Kobe did even more impressive."

Jackson jumped in with both feet, claiming Bryant's performance was "the best I've ever seen a player of mine play with an overall court game."

Jordan himself told the Washington Post he saw a resemblance.

Bryant's participation in this debate was brief: "There will never be another Michael Jordan," he said. "I'm my own player. I want to be identified as my own player." Which goes to prove he not only is more talented than most of us, he also is smarter than most of us.

His reticence on the issue isn't satisfying, of course, because he's defying a convenient label that seems to fit all the better amid the Lakers' postseason run. They haven't lost a game since April 1. They are on the verge of making history. And Bryant seems to be one of those special players who makes crowds hyperventilate by doing something wonderful every time he touches the ball.

Is that like what's his face? Sure it is.

But I like Ron Harper's take on all this. He has been a teammate and confidant of both at one time or another, and the Lakers guard says, "Let M.J. be M.J. and let the kid be the kid. M.J. paved the way for him, no question. But the kid's game has evolved into an all-around game. If he keeps putting on shows like he has lately, who knows how good he'll be?"