FanPost

From Prada to Nada, or: The Lakers Meandering Descent into Mediocrity

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via morethan-stats.com

It's a story that's been revisited countless times in American pop culture; though not nearly as often as its more uplifting counterpart, the riches to rags trope often pops up as a comedic contrast that pokes fun at the previously proud elite, being humbled by their former underlings, forced to do the blue collar work they once scoffed at, or taking the public transportation they used to consider beneath them. Think Frank Abagnale's family in Catch Me if You Can having to move into a tiny apartment, The Simpons' Mr. Burns rummaging through dumpsters for recyclables, the faded high school beauty queen alluded to in a Bruce Springsteen song or of course, the two characters in the critically skewered film mentioned in this post's title.

This, sadly, reflects the current state of your Los Angeles Lakers. It's not even so much about the championships, or the ability to realistically compete for championships, which, as anyone not suffering from a heretofore undiscovered disease causing them to literally bleed purple and gold will tell you, is not in the cards for this team in the near future. It isn't just the lack of an elite product on the basketball court, rather, it's the complete lack of style, class and artistry with which this organization has conducted itself over the past several years. To be clear, I don't mean that the franchise is suddenly being run by backcountry scumbag bumpkins-on the contrary, by all accounts Jim Buss and Mitch Kupchak are generally good, smart dudes who want to win, and are doing the best they can within the confines of the new CBA. However, the parabolic journey from the dregs of early 2007 to now has been particularly appalling when contrasting the sheer beauty and uniqueness of the Lakers highest highs with the utterly common, working class schlubs they've become today.

This isn't to mock or detract from salt of the earth organizations like the Spurs, Thunder and, to a lesser extent, the Pacers, who have all ranged somewhere between respectable playoff team and legitimate title contender in a small or medium sized market for several years on end from making sound, if unspectacular basketball decisions while focusing more on substance and results than style or glamor, all while also keeping a close eye on finances. I also don't mean to cast the Lakers as some bloated aristocrats, wiping their fat greasy chins with 100 dollar bills and snorting designer drugs in a kind of unsustainable extravagance that foretold of a precipitous fall. You obviously don't win championships if you don't prioritize substance and results. It's just that, during their peak years from 2008-2010, the Lakers won and carried themselves in a way that oozed both substance and style. They were the envy of the entire league, boasting two all-NBA starters, a pair of borderline All-Stars, arguably the best coach in the history of team sports, the best owner in the league and an enviable market that dripped with ancillary income opportunities to entice free agents otherwise hesitant to accept a pay cut. This is part of the reason why I wasn't all that heart broken by the beat down at the hands of the Celtics in 2008, the future was just too damn bright to dwell on what, at the time, seemed like the necessary disappointment that preceded the inevitable success the franchise seemed primed for.

For all these reasons and more, the Lakers "winning" the Carlos Boozer amnesty bid last week hit me particularly hard. The team's downfall in both winning percentage and aesthetic quality over the past few seasons can be highlighted by a series of contrasts that plot their gloomy descent from prom queen to overweight 50-something waitress working at a local diner, asking the fresh-faced teenagers in a raspy, cigarette-addled voice, "freshen your coffee hun?".

So how about that Carlos Boozer? I'll start with him. Aside from my obvious elation at the fact that the Lakers now have four(!) average power forwards, my immediate, visceral reaction was characterized by nausea, lethargy, sweaty palms and loss of appetite. Yes, my response to a basketball transaction resembled things a hypochondriac would frantically type into the symptom checker on Web MD. This is where the contrast comes into play. Remember when the Lakers were Utah's daddy for three straight postseasons, dispensing them with increasing ease each year? I specifically remember finding out that the Jazz would be the Lakers' second round opponent in 2010 and my reaction being somewhere along the lines of "LOLOLOLOLOL" while wondering aloud to my friends how many times Boozer's shot would be impotently stuffed at the rim by the Lakers' superior length (the answer: a lot ). For lack of a better, more analytical word, I couldn't help but think what an incredibly, well, lame player he was. The ugly, high release on his jumper, the lack of defense, the yelling. The eyebrows. In comparison with the suave, poetic movements of Pau and the smooth, effortless cool exuded by Lamar, he looked like such a stiff, and I reveled in vanquishing him and his team every spring while simultaneously being thankful that the Lakers possessed players that were not only superior in height and skill, but style and grace. Little did I know, the descent down the basketball aesthetics gradient from a perfect 10 to a Mark Mardsen would begin only about a year and a half after that 2010 title.

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via static01.nyt.com

Despite the 2011 season ending in a fiery ball of suspensions, chest punching and Peja Stojakovic three pointers, the season as a whole wasn't a total disaster. The Lakers were a solid #2 seed, had that spectacular 17-1 stretch, saw their core championship guys remain intact, still had Phil roaming the sidelines and generally, despite some glaring signs of the shit storm to come, still looked like the Lakers. That season even contained the notable highlight of LO winning sixth man of the year. We all know what happened next: the lockout, the failed Chris Paul trade, LO not showing up to camp and eventually being dealt to the Mavs for the traded player exception that helped net the Lakers Steve Nash. In my estimation, losing Lamar for nothing (at the time) marked the beginning of the end. While that may seem like an obvious point-losing a player of that caliber is obviously going to hurt your team- it wasn't so much his on court production, although, at the time, that was still stellar. Rather, it was Lamar's adhesive quality and ability to keep things loose while also bringing a passion for the game and compassion for his teammates that left the most glaring hole upon his departure. Additionally, Odom possessed a unique ability to act as a stylistic liaison between Bynum and Pau's low block dominance and Kobe's sublime perimeter game. Simply put, Lamar embodied everything cool and sexy about being a Laker, and when the team opened the 2012 season against Chicago with Josh McRoberts and Troy Murphy playing the bulk of the minutes at the four, it was obvious things would never be the same. I'm not sure if it was McBob's knee high white socks or Murphy's horse face, but the shift in the stylistic landscape of Lakerdom had begun to change.

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via i.cdn.turner.com

Preceding that de facto swap, however, was an even more jarring adjustment for the franchise: the hiring of Mike Brown following Phil Jackson's retirement. Similar to the Carlos Boozer addition, I reacted to the news of Brown's hiring with a barrage of physical maladies while nearly breaking my mouse from clicking ‘refresh' so many times in hopes that ESPN would soon publish a revision article, amending the erroneously reported news and apologizing for any inconvenience caused by this tasteless prank. Obviously, that amendment never came, and so the short lived Mike Brown era of defense, unimaginative offense and boring press conferences commenced. If ever there was a crystallized contrast between the glory years and the present, this was it-Phil Jackson being succeeded by Mike Brown. Finely tailored Armani to socks and sandals seemingly overnight.

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via roundballdaily.com

Looming larger than any of these singular changes, however, was the fact that the Lakers seemed to suddenly be taking on the very types of players and coaches that Lakers fans, myself included, used to openly ridicule. When Mike Brown got his extension in Cleveland in early 2008, I couldn’t help but think: "Wtf? Can’t ownership see that this guy lacks vision, creativity and leadership? Can’t they see that LeBron is the only reason this team is anything other than a bottom feeding cellar dweller? Welp, best of luck with that one Cavs". Similarly, whenever the Lakers would play the Pacers, aside from always noting the inordinate amount of white bros residing in the Indiana frontcourt, I couldn’t help but think what bland, uninspiring players both McRoberts and Murphy were. Yet, here the Lakers were, welcoming all three with open arms as the wave of their new, dowdy future. While it’s tempting to say the same about the Mike D’Antoni hire, at least at the time it seemed like a compelling "outside the box" choice. Of course, leading Lakers fans to believe Phil was coming back only to have a change of heart at the eleventh hour was always going to torpedo D’Antoni’s chances at winning Lakers fans’ hearts, but if nothing else, they went out and grabbed a guy who was regarded as a highly intelligent, innovative thinker. I can at least credit the Lakers for choosing a guy whose obvious shortcomings and incongruence with the roster made me contemplatively stroke my chin, narrow my eyes, and wonder if this, "just crazy enough to work" plan would pan out.

This is why I can't help but react to news of Byron Scott's ninth interview with anything other than a roll of my eyes. Whether you're talking about Byron Scott the person or Byron Scott the concept, it's just such a completely unremarkable choice, and the inevitability of his hiring leaves me feeling like I'm watching a car wreck in slow motion-it's so obvious how to best avoid the impending carnage, but I remain completely helpless. The myriad reasons why Byron Scott would be a lousy choice as head coach of the Lakers are covered in detail on this very blog, and needless to say, I agree wholeheartedly that this would be a "bleh" hiring of the worst kind. No risk, no inspiration, no vision. I can't help but feel like the Lakers latest coaching search was conducted via a fan poll from the early 90's as opposed to an exhaustive search into potentially untapped pools of talent.

Obviously there have been plenty of landmark events that have contributed to the Lakers current station. Dr. Buss passing, Steve Nash's calcification, Dwight Howard's departure, Basketball Reasons and Kobe's Achilles have all had an equal or greater impact on the actual quality of basketball being played at Staples Center on Clipper off nights (too masochistic?), but I can't help but look at the panache and elegance of the Lakers very recent championship history and bemoan the franchise's descent into the realm of the mundane. The Lakers have been bad before, but at present, they lack self-awareness and, as odd as it is to say about a basketball team, fashion sense. In seasons past, the Lakers falling short of goals or expectations was an entertaining mixture, equal parts soap opera and train wreck, but at least we all felt compelled to tune in, they were interesting. Sure, Kobe's redemption tour will offer some semblance of a story line to follow in the coming years, but the Lakers seem to be teetering on a precipice of something far scarier than a lottery season or two: complete irrelevance.