As I type this, MY Los Angeles Lakers are facing a 29 point deep hole in a deeper 3-0 hole in their playoffs matchup against the Dallas Mavericks. I can't even bring myself to say it, but here it is. It's the end, we've been swept.
I'm trying my best to write something informative and coherent here, when in fact all I want to do is to let out a big, "Shit shit shit shit, what the fuck!" and then speak no more, move no more then roll over in my bed and possibly sleep until the end of this post season where new champs (not Lebron please) are bound to be crowned and the greatness of the Lakers and Phil and Kobe are nothing but a thing from the distant past.
This is like getting your heart broken. This is why people came up with phrases such as, "no expectations, no disappointments". This is why we shouldn't get too attached to someone, something - to anything. This is the end not only of a season, but of a dream; the taking away of a fan girl's hopes that her team will continue to be the best and that her favorite player's body is not susceptible to aging and damage. In some ways this is the end of a part of my childhood.
The Lakers has been my team since I began to seriously enjoy and appreciate watching the NBA back in the late 90s. It may have been love at first sight, I do not remember, but for more than a decade I was a hopeful, loyal, even the crazy fan girl who saw the Lakers begin the last decade with greatness only to have the dynasty end in an equally heartbreaking finals against the Pistons, rebuild for the next three years amidst threats and all the drama from Kobe about leaving and wanting something better, until they finally broke through the Finals appearance drought and managed to be in there for 3 straight years while winning the last two Finals to become back to back champs. Yes, the past decade has been one hell of a ride, and it seems like we're bound for another trip to this crazy roller coaster, but then something in me is not up for it anymore. This ending is different. The old crew is going. Phil is retiring. Kobe, well..
Actually for the most part, this is about Kobe for me. Number 24, the black mamba, the Kloser. I could easily say he's my favorite player, but that wouldn't do him any justice. For me, he is the standard of a great athlete and the epitome of a great champion (in the decade that i've witnessed at least). But now, battling age (he's 31), the body's natural wear and tear, and the unnatural wear and tear brought about by years of playing in top form (finger, neck, ankle, knee injuries) Kobe Bryant is close to his end too as one of the top performing NBA players. This season marks his jump off the "greatness plateau" he has been on for the past three years. And if you're familiar with the shape and trends of those graphs, you know that once you've peaked, plateaud and jumped off, decline is all that is left with brief periods of a spike that doesn't really get anywhere near the peak. This breaks my heart the most. That I have to witness his decline, his vulnerability, his dethroning as currently one of the league's best.
I really don't know how to end this one. In pretty much the same way that heartbreaks knock you out cold for the next few days, I want to keep mum and distance myself from the whole thing, if possible for the whole summer.
There's just this hovering feeling of finality and the bitter taste of endings at the moment. An ending and a finality that will become more real as the days go by, marked by periods of trying to relive past glory, until such a time when all of these will be over and we can dream and be expectant again. But from my 13 year old self back then to the 24 year old woman I am now, I just know that in matters of life, love, and basketball, once things end they are never going to be the same again.
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