It's week two of the NBA season, and I've watched my beloved Lakers play exactly zero times. This is a byproduct of two unfortunate circumstances: Their games start closer to midnight than to Jeopardy on this coast, and Kobe is sitting even more than Adam Morrison used to.
It's that second fact that has really led me not to watch; I've come to understand I'm a fan of Kobe more than the Lakers. I've also come to understand that Kobe can be a prickish, ASSuming, confidence-oozing dick on the court, in interviews, and in advertisements. (His eyebrows hop up and down like kangaroos, which bugs me and reinforces his badder-than-God attitude.) I think I've known for a while that Kobe's a little bit of a jackass, but I shoved the thought to the back burner of my mind because he's one of a few remaining childhood heroes.
But now I realize I fell in love with Kobe because my Dad took me to watch him when the Lakers came to Portland each year. I fell in love with him because my Gram loved the team and took me to Staples Center for one memorable night. I was ten when he and Shaq took over the basketball world with three straight championships, and I suppose I could have imprinted onto Shaq, but I wanted to shoot threes and break ankles, not back into the paint to piddle baby hooks. So Kobe it was.
The point of all this is that it was as much circumstance as choice that I fell in love with Kobe, and even though I'm now able to consciously admit he's a jackass, childhood heroes die hard, and I'll root for him until he retires.
The second point of all this requires a formal announcement:
I have officially been named the 2013-2014 girls basketball coach at my school.
And I'm going to transform them into a bunch of Kobe-goddamn-Bryants (not because he's the most stand-up guy, but because I like him, as explained above).
Here's my plan for my new position.
Offense
I'm going to take a wild guess and say all coaches at the middle-school level emphasize passing. Passing. That's ridiculous. How many points does one earn by dishing a straight dime? ZERO, as in one less than one. Contrary to rational thought, I'm going to tell my girls to pull up from anywhere. Closely guarded? Doesn't matter; it's going to look better when you soak her eyeball in a splash. Broken finger? Keep shooting. Wide open teammate? She can get the rebound.
We're going to win ball games, and we're going to do it the wrong way.
Defense
Not that important unless it's late and the score is tight. I'll tell them to get a hand up at the very least. But if the other team starts passing the rock all over the damn court, I'll tell them to just let the other team score in order to save energy for the important end of the court.
Practice
We'll practice shooting 95 percent of the time. Also, practice is mildly important, but in honor of Allen Iverson's recent retirement: Practice?! We talkin' about practice, maan.
Relationship with Coach (Me)
They will hate the weird books I give them. They'll hate my whistling from the sideline. They'll hate it when I don't call timeout when they're getting walloped, but they will win. If not, I will quit.
Attitude
Entitled, in the most ironic of ways.
On and Off the Court
They will suck the sweat out of their jerseys to keep their mouths from getting dry. If they refuse, they will sit down.
If they cry, they will be cut.
If they smile, they will sit down.
If they laugh, they will be suspended one game.
If they get a technical foul, I will smile.
If they miss the game-winner, they will wait for the gym to empty and then they will shoot from the spot they missed from for two hours before they can leave.
They will NOT travel to Denver.
When they win the championship, they will look intensely bored. When asked why, they will respond, "One's nice. Five's better."
One last thought: Somebody better beat friggin' Miami this year, or I'm going to sic my team of Kobes on them come next fall.
It's that second fact that has really led me not to watch; I've come to understand I'm a fan of Kobe more than the Lakers. I've also come to understand that Kobe can be a prickish, ASSuming, confidence-oozing dick on the court, in interviews, and in advertisements. (His eyebrows hop up and down like kangaroos, which bugs me and reinforces his badder-than-God attitude.) I think I've known for a while that Kobe's a little bit of a jackass, but I shoved the thought to the back burner of my mind because he's one of a few remaining childhood heroes.
But now I realize I fell in love with Kobe because my Dad took me to watch him when the Lakers came to Portland each year. I fell in love with him because my Gram loved the team and took me to Staples Center for one memorable night. I was ten when he and Shaq took over the basketball world with three straight championships, and I suppose I could have imprinted onto Shaq, but I wanted to shoot threes and break ankles, not back into the paint to piddle baby hooks. So Kobe it was.
The point of all this is that it was as much circumstance as choice that I fell in love with Kobe, and even though I'm now able to consciously admit he's a jackass, childhood heroes die hard, and I'll root for him until he retires.
The second point of all this requires a formal announcement:
I have officially been named the 2013-2014 girls basketball coach at my school.
And I'm going to transform them into a bunch of Kobe-goddamn-Bryants (not because he's the most stand-up guy, but because I like him, as explained above).
Here's my plan for my new position.
Offense
I'm going to take a wild guess and say all coaches at the middle-school level emphasize passing. Passing. That's ridiculous. How many points does one earn by dishing a straight dime? ZERO, as in one less than one. Contrary to rational thought, I'm going to tell my girls to pull up from anywhere. Closely guarded? Doesn't matter; it's going to look better when you soak her eyeball in a splash. Broken finger? Keep shooting. Wide open teammate? She can get the rebound.
We're going to win ball games, and we're going to do it the wrong way.
Defense
Not that important unless it's late and the score is tight. I'll tell them to get a hand up at the very least. But if the other team starts passing the rock all over the damn court, I'll tell them to just let the other team score in order to save energy for the important end of the court.
Practice
We'll practice shooting 95 percent of the time. Also, practice is mildly important, but in honor of Allen Iverson's recent retirement: Practice?! We talkin' about practice, maan.
Relationship with Coach (Me)
They will hate the weird books I give them. They'll hate my whistling from the sideline. They'll hate it when I don't call timeout when they're getting walloped, but they will win. If not, I will quit.
Attitude
Entitled, in the most ironic of ways.
On and Off the Court
They will suck the sweat out of their jerseys to keep their mouths from getting dry. If they refuse, they will sit down.
If they cry, they will be cut.
If they smile, they will sit down.
If they laugh, they will be suspended one game.
If they get a technical foul, I will smile.
If they miss the game-winner, they will wait for the gym to empty and then they will shoot from the spot they missed from for two hours before they can leave.
They will NOT travel to Denver.
When they win the championship, they will look intensely bored. When asked why, they will respond, "One's nice. Five's better."
One last thought: Somebody better beat friggin' Miami this year, or I'm going to sic my team of Kobes on them come next fall.