Our logo falls into the dust.

Happy birthday to me, but Lamar crumpled like so many cards in a win against the Rockets on Tuesday night.

His fall from the ranks of Lakerland for at least a month could return the Lakes to their last year's paradigm: Kobe scores every time down while the rest of the team takes in his spectacle.

Don't get me wrong; Mamba is perhaps the G.O.A.T. and probably already is with regards to scoring the basketball. However, the evolution of the Lakes into a multifaceted attacking machine was among the more thrilling aspects of this 1/4 done year.

To a large extent, Lamar enabled their startling push into importance. He seemed energized by the death of his infant son. Perhaps his all-encompassing grief finally enabled him to begin to fathom the almost limitless death of his talents. Or, it could be that another year of Phil Jackson was and is causing the Lakers to come together like so many Beatles.The long term effects of Odom's injury could prove more deadly than losing Kobe for a similar span of time. Not to suggest that Odom is more valuable than Mamba. Quite the opposite--his status as 2nd best is what makes this injury so devastating.

Take tonight's game against the Mavericks as a prime example. Mamba dominated the Q3, but as the Lakers fell further and further back as 4Q went on, there was no-one to help Kobe to shoulder the load. Had Kobe been injured, a kind of communal spirit would have been in effect; since there would have been no focal point at which the Mavericks could direct their defensive onslaught, they would have instead been forced to contend with the very real possibility of points coming from anywhere on the floor. As it was, Kobe was reduced to wild heaves with an only theoretical possibility of bringing his team back into it.
The Lakers are not an elite team yet, but Lamar's multifaceted goodness pushed them constantly in the direction of the sanctity of a Top-5 seed. It remains to be seen whether or not they can weather his stormy absence from the court, but never underestimate the wizardry of the man in the suit.

Pleasures abound

Tuesday was a special time in Lamar Blogom history; it was the first game ever attended with Lamar distinctly in mind. Of course, he decided to freak the joint up.

Someone who did the opposite of freak the joint up was Mamba. We've discussed him before, way back in June of 2006 A.D. What we did not discuss is his insane artistry and newfound efficiency. His knee surgery, which sidelined him for the first two games of this year and still probably continues to limit him even as he composes his unique art on the basketball court. While he usually paints masterpieces full of fluidity and graceful brushstrokes, it is as if he has been handed watercolors with which to replicate the Mona Lisa.

After he drove Shaq from the mix, the masses decried him as a traitorous snake in the grass. He remains a petulant force to be contended with--see Game 7 of last year's 1st round for example--but despite or perhaps because of his balance of maturity and childishness Mamba rises above the hapless flocks with his scoring genius.

His 2004 was of disastrous proportions, aided and abetted by the non-factor of Rudy Tomjonavich and his later illness-induced substitute Frank Hamblen. Reunited with the Wizard of Hollywood, Mamba saw his star rise anew, outshining even his former Shaq-fu-aided greatness. At times he seemed to transcend the sport itself as he glided about the hardwood, throwing in baskets from insane angles with approximately half the damn Staples Center in his grill.

Mamba's frenzied bloodlust crested in the month-long stretch in which he dropped 62 and 81 on the Mavs and Raps, respectively. Afterwards, perhaps fueled by his teammates' emergence as a force viable of the master's consideration, he receded slightly from the spotlight. Not to say that he did not still own the court like a lion tamer, but he allowed others to bask in his glorious glow as he gallivanted about on his holy quest.
Shaq-fu was the first of the legendary duo to recapture former glory without the other, but he did so at the hands of the Devil himself, Dwyane Wade. The referees aided and abetted Shaq in his quest for greatness. They did no such favor for his former teammate and nemesis, as he found himself robbed of a game-changing bucket in the waning moments of Game 1.

That is beside the point. The point is that even as Mamba finds himself limited by a bum knee and tough conference, he will reinvent himself and his teammates to rise above the unwashed horde in a quest for absolution. Perhaps it won't come this season, but as Andrew "Big Pussy" Bynum grows and matures along with Turiaf the Beast, his conflict will be resolved with a success so resounding as to shake the foundations of the sport to their core.

Coming at you like Adebisi

We shoulda seen it coming. Dude tosses down a slam to be reckoned with on Shaq-fu and then has the gall to trade elbows with Shaq on his way downcourt. This one play seems to arbit greatness more so than a single game, even more than a single playoff series. It seemed no accident that Bynum took his schooling, sprinted downcourt, and made Shaq-fu his little prison bitch.
Enter this season: the Lakes' two top centers go down with assorted injuries, leaving only the untest Bynum to man the middle. Conventional wisdom says the Lakes are in serious goddamn trouble. Of course, Bynum is destined for greatness.

The only things holding him back are foul-proneness and PhilJax' notorious fickleness when it comes to young players. Bynum is far from a grizzly vet; at this point in his life he might be too full of enthusiam to contribute to a winning effort on a consistent basis. But that enthusiasm that holds him back also drives him forward, making him the semi-unstoppable force that he now is. If he continues to mature (and calm down) he will become what the Bulls only imagined when they called the name Edward Curry way back when.
Dude has an impressive motor, especially at his size. He's 7'0" and seems to have no trouble jumping and rejumping to either board or block with the other bigs. Basically, he's Dennis Rodman in Shaq-fu's body, but without the requisite craziness of the former, or the mumbling monolithicness of the latter. His game is predicated more on the boyish pursuit of acceptance from his teammates than Rodman's Lust for Life or Shaq's big bully dominance.

Bynum's maturation may bring untold wonders, or it may drag him down into the depths of Currydom, destroying his boyish joy for the game of basketball along with its mellowing and seasoning effects. If he can find some way to convince PhilJax to play him more often, perhaps that enthusiasm will remain, though tempered by the dulcet tones of sweet experience.

P.S. Andrew is in serious need of a nickname. Comment with you ideas.