The Great Unknown
Ten seasons into a certain Hall of Fame career, Kobe Bryant remains, to teammates and opponents, admirers and haters, as big a mystery as ever
By Jack McCallum and L. Jon Wertheim
I. THE IMAGE
Some people are going to like me, some people aren't going to like me," Kobe Bryant is saying after a practice at the Lakers' El Segundo training facility in late March. "The people who don't, just have to understand who I truly am, and that can only happen through time. That's why you don't see me doing talk shows and things like that."
Opponents who marveled at Bryant's ability to compartmentalize his life while facing charges for felony sexual assault of an employee at a luxury hotel in Eagle, Colo., in 2003 -- he would fly to Eagle in the morning for proceedings in the case, then play an outstanding game in Los Angeles that night -- say he has become an even more steely-eyed assassin since his legal difficulties. "It's like he's paying everybody back," says Portland Trail Blazers guard Sebastian Telfair. "It's like he's thinking, The best way for me to get my image back is to go out there and kill everybody. He wants to, like, murder you."
Were you expecting a chastened, contrite post-Eagle Kobe? Bryant is adamant in his assertion that there is not -- and never will be -- a charm campaign to mend his image. The Lakers didn't do anything official to try to restore Bryant as an icon to the denizens of Staples Center, no meet-and-greets with season-ticket holders, no orchestrated interviews with Oprah or Ed Bradley. "Kobe's approach was: Let's have it be real, professional on and off the court; handle yourself the right way, every day," says John Black, the Lakers' director of public relations. "And, over time, people will respect that."
NBA commissioner David Stern recalls the pleas for Bryant to be suspended even after the sexual-assault charges against him were dropped. "That is not the American way," says Stern, who adds that "it's clear that Kobe hasn't made this into a case of either rehabilitation or image management. It's Kobe being Kobe."
Even before Eagle, Bryant's image was that of a loner, a fierce individualist who didn't connect with his teammates or the public at large. Though several people close to him bemoan his lack of a common touch, Bryant disputes his portrayal. "I never was as lonely and solitary as people thought," he says. "When I first came [into the NBA] I didn't know much about anything. So I kind of sheltered myself off. But I was 17 when I got here. Seventeen! It was hard figuring out who I was."
Bryant's claims to the contrary, there are signs that he cares about refurbishing his image, at least in select forums. Earlier this year he wrote a first person article for Dime, the hoops fanzine, addressing a wide range of issues. Most revealing were his observations about his relationship with the black community. "I never felt like I deserved to be part of our tradition because I grew up overseas, in Italy," he wrote. "... I never truly believed that my own people wanted to identify with me."
As the editors wrote in an explanatory note in the front of the magazine, "This story was important to Kobe; he viewed it as an opportunity to communicate unfiltered and uncensored with the public."
The article, of course, was a no-risk proposition, Bryant calling the shots, leaving little -- potentially unpleasant lines of inquiry, follow-up questions, unflattering photos -- to the control of others. There was no mention of the Colorado incident nor his role in splintering the Lakers and their run at a dynasty.
II. THE PLAYER
For all the contradictions swirling about him, there is this unassailable truth: Bryant is the game's best all-around player. And according to many, including Trail Blazers coach Nate McMillan, he's getting better. "If you want to find a player to build around, he's probably it," says McMillan. "He's got great size for a guard, he's pretty impossible to defend, and he is hard to score against when he hunkers down on defense."
Facing the defense, Bryant has no peer. He can avoid defenders like a stunt driver swerving through oncoming traffic. He can blow by for a dunk, pull up for a short jumper or simply rise up and hit a long-range, heavily contested perimeter missile.
With his back to the defense, Bryant is equally dangerous. If a defender gives him space, he faces up and banks in a jump shot. If a defender crowds him, he speeds past or overpowers him. If he's double-teamed, he up-fakes, pivots and squeezes between defenders for a layup, almost always without traveling. Innate athleticism aside, he has labored like a Broadway dancer to perfect his footwork.
Besides leading the league in scoring, Bryant ranked in the top 10 at week's end in steals, minutes, field goals attempted, field goals made, three-pointers attempted, three-pointers made, free throws attempted, free throws made and player efficiency rating.
It's been three decades since a player from a .500-level team was the league's MVP -- that was Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, who took the 1975-76 award even though his Lakers finished 40-42. With Bryant's Lakers 41-37 and tied for seventh place in the Western Conference through Sunday, even the "M-V-P!" cheers that erupt from time to time in Staples Center are tepid. But his play has been so outstanding this season that he must be on any short list of candidates.
"I'm not saying that he's the most valuable player, but he's certainly the best player," says Phoenix Suns coach Mike D'Antoni. "And it's not even close. He is utterly dominant."
III. THE GHOST
At times Bryant almost eerily channels Michael Jordan on the court -- the same fadeaway jumper, the same feral, crouched-panther stance on defense, the same pigeon-toed walk downcourt. But the debate over whether Kobe is the next Jordan is settled. As much as Madison Avenue might have wanted Bryant's crossover appeal to be as impressive as his crossover dribble, it is not. Jordan's default facial expression was a wide smile, Bryant's a cloudy frown. Still, the specter of Jordan looms inescapably over Bryant.
Like Jordan, he is capable of reducing even All-Stars to little kids in his presence. In a nearly deserted hallway long after a late-March game against Sacramento, Bryant emerged from the locker room to find his wife, Vanessa, and three-year-old daughter, Natalia, waiting for him. Kings forward Ron Artest, whom Bryant had badly outplayed on this evening, came by, carrying a throwaway camera and his five-year-old son, Ron Ron. "Kobe, would you take a picture with my boy?" Artest asked, the way a timid kid would ask a teacher for a favor. "Sure," said Kobe, stationing himself between Natalia and Ron Ron as Artest snapped away.
While Jordan, too, could be forbidding to other players, he also projected warmth -- far more than Bryant does. "When players sit around, Kobe's not a guy you might talk about and say, 'He's such a good dude,' like a Kevin Garnett,'" says Los Angeles Clippers guard Cuttino Mobley. "Nobody knows Kobe that well. He's not a sociable guy. That's not a fault; it's just his preference. When I was a rookie [in Houston], Scottie Pippen told me that Michael would go out with his teammates sometimes. He included guys and balanced everything out. I'm not sure Kobe does that."
"From a talent standpoint, he may be better than Jordan was at this stage of his career," says Clippers coach Mike Dunleavy. "The part of his game that he has to get better as opposed to Jordan is in the leadership department, how players respond to him, how he gets along, creating a chemistry. Players loved playing with Jordan. I don't know whether they do with Kobe."
It should be noted that Jordan's übercompetitiveness, which sometimes led him to humiliate his teammates, was generally seen as a positive, perhaps because he did it (mostly) behind closed doors, partly because he was, well, Michael. The same trait in Bryant is often seen as objectionable. "When he's being the nice Kobe, he's good with everybody," says San Antonio Spurs forward Robert Horry, a teammate of Bryant's in L.A. for seven seasons. "But when he's being the butthole Kobe, he's difficult. There were days when the second team would beat the first team, and he wouldn't speak to guys because he wanted to get back onto the court and beat them. He's just very passionate about his basketball."
As dominant as Jordan was, he had a way of refraining from lording it over his opponents. He disagreed, of course, with suggestions that there were actually defenders who could stop him (such as Detroit's Joe Dumars or Cleveland's Craig Ehlo), but he usually did it with grace and good humor.
Bryant does not. After he dropped 51 points on Raja Bell in a loss to the Suns last Friday, he was asked about the physical battle Bell had given him. Bryant shot the questioner a look that said Are you nuts? "Raja Bell?" he said, enunciating the name as if it were a contagious disease. "I don't even think about him. Man, I got bigger fish to fry than Raja Bell."
In The Last Season, Phil Jackson's tell-almost-all book about the 2003-04 season, the Lakers' coach labeled Bryant "uncoachable" and admitted that he tried to persuade general manager Mitch Kupchak to unload him before the February trading deadline. "[Kobe] could have been heir apparent to MJ and maybe won as many championships," Jackson wrote. "He may still win a championship or two, but the boyish hero image has been replaced by that of a callous gun for hire."
Two years later, having returned to the Los Angeles bench, Jackson is predictably conciliatory, insisting that Bryant would, for example, no longer defiantly remove himself from the offense, as he did during an infamous one-shot first half against the Kings late in the 2003-04 season. "Kobe now plays that role of involving guys in the offense without taking himself out," says Jackson. "It used to be an either-or situation, black or white.
"I wanted Kobe to move into the realm where he's not only the driving force by his play but also has a nurturing element," the Lakers' coach adds. "And that is what has come out this year. He's patient, accepting and friendlier to his teammates."
Some of the Lakers agree. "Before, Kobe wouldn't really say much and would just lead by playing hard, coming early and staying late," says forward Devean George, who among his current teammates has been with Bryant the longest (seven years). "Now he's more vocal. Some of the younger guys, it might bother them. They're still trying to find their way. Kobe being the superstar player and a big name, it holds weight when he yells. But he likes everybody on the team. I don't think he's doing it to put anyone down."
Bryant's most important relationship among his teammates is with talented 6'10" forward Lamar Odom. Bryant and Odom have the potential to be a 21st-century version of Jordan and Pippen. But Odom sometimes defers to Bryant too much; around the league it is generally thought that the Lakers' chances of flourishing in the postseason depend on how much Odom asserts himself.
One of the most intriguing subplots of the Lakers' season involves whether Bryant and Odom nearly came to blows after a 94-91 loss to the Wizards in Washington on Dec. 26. With five seconds remaining, Bryant turned the ball over but pinned the blame on Odom for a botched pick-and-roll. The principals say there was no subsequent altercation; other teammates confirm that harsh words were exchanged. Nevertheless, Odom, who has heard throughout his career how much better he would be if he had a warrior's mentality, sometimes seems in awe of Bryant's single-minded dedication to winning. "Kobe goes after it as hard as anybody in the league," says Odom. "He wants to win. That's what you have to understand about him."
Still, it's hard to determine where the party line stops and reality begins. His teammates know that they will face Bryant's wrath if they don't get him the ball in clutch situations ... and may face it anyway. After the Lakers lost close games at New Jersey (92-89 on March 17) and Cleveland (96-95 two days later), Bryant pointed fingers.
Against the Nets, Odom had trouble inbounding the ball and neglected to call timeout with 13 seconds remaining. That, Bryant said afterward, led to a broken play and an awkward Bryant miss as time expired. Bryant also brought Luke Walton into that conversation, angrily pointing to a spot on the floor where he presumably thought the Lakers' forward should've been.
In the loss to the Cavaliers, it was Walton who had a hard time getting the ball inbounds to Bryant on a last-shot play. Eventually he did, but Bryant received the pass 35 feet from the basket and missed a shot as time expired. After the game Bryant said that Walton should've called a timeout. "I guess I could have called a timeout," responded an uncharacteristically piqued Walton, "but it's a 48-minute game and we didn't lose because I didn't call a timeout."
IV. THE BELIEVERS
Bryant and his family have, at least publicly, lived down the embarrassment of Eagle. "My wife and daughter are my refuge," Kobe claims. The Bryants are expecting their second daughter in May. "Natalia can't wait to be a big sister," says Bryant. And that is all he'll say on the subject.
Off the court Bryant certainly has his supporters. Earlier this year Bryant paid a visit to his high school alma mater, Lower Merion in suburban Philadelphia, where he was approached by a member of the girls' basketball team. "How come you don't hook us up with shoes?" she asked.
The following day the girls' team received $17,000 worth of Nike shoes and gear. Last month, as the Lower Merion boys' team rode on a bus to the state championship game, Bryant called the team's captains to offer encouragement. He also left a message on the voicemail of coach Gregg Downer offering words of advice: "The key for the kids to understand is: Refuse to lose. Period. It's one game. Win this game. Worry about the next when it comes.... I'm sure you've had 'em working hard all season long. This is their moment to take. Just make sure they go out there and do it. Call me after you kick their asses. All right, brother. Out."
"Look, I know half the people out there think he's nasty or he's selfish," says Downer. "But I'm telling you, there's a lot of good in his heart."
Duke's Mike Krzyzewski, who has built his success on athletes with virtuous reputations, has asked Bryant to be the leader of the 2008 Olympic team in Beijing. "It's Kobe's time," Coach K says of Bryant. "He's 27 years old. He should try to assume a position of leadership [on] the team. I would think he's very hungry to do this. I see him fitting in very, very well."
Stern echoes that sentiment. "I have no qualms whatsoever about Kobe carrying the Olympic standard for us," the commissioner says. "In fact, I think it's great."
Nike had signed Bryant to a five-year, $45 million deal just days before the Colorado charges. According to Ralph Greene, the company's director for global basketball, Nike never came close to severing ties with Bryant. "He never ceased to be an intriguing basketball player or someone who could help us," says Greene. "And we knew we could help him."
Still, Nike did more or less hide Bryant for almost three years, launching their first Kobe shoe, the Zoom Kobe I, only this February. The decision to come out with a Bryant model, Greene says, was not motivated by market research or focus group testing. "In terms of Kobe's endorsement value, we always knew that his play on the court was going to be the motivating factor."
V. THE HATERS
For an athlete to refurbish his image, he needs to advance through a set of concentric circles -- the home fan, the basketball fan, the nonfan. Even after Eagle, Bryant remained in the good graces of most Lakers acolytes, particularly the Hollywood crowd, which was always more enthralled with Bryant's graceful acrobatics than with Shaquille O'Neal's brute force. Staples became, in effect, Bryant's personal decontamination chamber. This season, mostly by dint of his play, Bryant is winning back basketball fans outside of L.A. In 2006 he was the second-leading All-Star vote getter, behind only Yao Ming, who is always buoyed by an international voting bloc.
Yet even within the game, there is a reluctance to fully embrace Bryant's virtuosity. His 81-point game against the Toronto Raptors at Staples Center on Jan. 22 drew, at best, ambivalent reviews. Sniffed Miami Heat coach Pat Riley, "It's remarkable, the execution and the efficiency, but we've got a lot of guys in this league, if they took 70 shots, they'd score a lot of points." (For the record, Bryant took only 46 shots.)
Here's a laugh: New Jersey's Vince Carter expressed concern for the underlying message sent by the four-score-and-one. "The only bad thing about it is, young kids, whose minds are easily warped, are going to think, Ohhh, I am going to go out there and do it instead of [putting] the team concept first." This is the same Vince Carter who once wore his iPod through a layup line, all but extorted a trade from Toronto to New Jersey and loves to hoist fallaway 30-footers.
More damning, among the general public, Bryant's Q rating -- which measures a celebrity's recognition and likability -- remains subterranean. In an extensive poll regarding 1,750 celebrities conducted last month, Bryant achieved a positive Q-rating score of 12 and a negative score of 47. The average score was 17/25. Omarosa Manigault-Stallworth, the conniving Apprentice contestant, ranked dead last, scoring 3/82. Bryant was in the company of Vince McMahon, Robert Blake, and even Barry Bonds.
"Kobe is easily in the bottom fifth," says Steven Levitt, president of Marketing Evaluations, the Long Island-based company that measures Q ratings. "It's not enough to have a great game or lead the league in scoring to overcome the disgrace that's been heaped upon him. His negative is four times his positive. That should scare the hell out of [any potential sponsor]. You won't sell batteries or peanut butter or Ball Park hot dogs or even Gatorade with that ranking."
In 2002 Reebok executive Henry (Que) Gaskins, then Philadelphia 76ers guard Allen Iverson's adviser, memorably suggested that Bryant's skills outpaced his marketability to shoe companies because he didn't have any street cred.
Todd Boyd, a professor at USC's School of Cinema-Television and author of Young, Black, Rich, and Famous: The Rise of the NBA, the Hip Hop Invasion, and the Transformation of American Culture, is more harsh. "Saying Kobe has street cred is like saying Dick Cheney has street cred." Boyd says that Bryant's image problems in part stem from an ambiguous racial identity. "If Kobe had been a white American player, people would have seen him as someone visibly different from the NBA population and accepted him as an individual who didn't fit the culture. Well, he's African-American, but as far as his class and disposition, he's not what people normally associate with NBA players. Then he gets charged with this crime, and suddenly [he seems] like everybody else.... I honestly can't name any African-Americans not professing to be Lakers fans who like Kobe."
VI. THE LAST SHOT
Bryant would dispute Boyd's contention. It is imperative to remember how he grew up, as a loner in Italy, the relatively privileged son of a former NBA player turned expatriate. Kobe's first hoops hero was not Michael Jordan or Julius Erving but D'Antoni, a heady white point guard from West Virginia who was Italy's most famous professional player during Kobe's formative years. Bryant adopted jersey number 8 because that was D'Antoni's number.
There are other black athletes who grew up in privileged circumstances, of course, but rarely was one as divorced from the African-American experience as Bryant was. Outside Phoenix's America West Arena, after his 51-point performance last Friday, he referred to his first-person essay in Dime, in which he wrote, "When I went to visit the victims of Hurricane Katrina and saw how their faces lit up when they saw me, how they embraced me and how my presence lifted their spirits, I realized how wrong I'd been about everything. I'd wasted all these years wanting to do things for our people, but thinking I wasn't the one to do them, that I wouldn't be welcomed. But now I see that isn't true. The experience of Katrina and my own personal struggles brought me closer to our people." He is ready, he says, to wear the mantle of African-American hero.
But Bryant seems to want to get only so close to the larger public, to not even reveal that he cares about it. Here's more Kobe, after that March practice at the Lakers' training facility: "You can have one person say, 'He's got a terrible image.' And you can have another person say, 'He has a great image.' What do people think of me? It's all over the place. That doesn't really give you much, does it?"
Issue date: April 17, 2006
@ the thick headed fakers fans who still want to argue this point with me despite the fact that we're 78 games deep into the season...
, bruce bowen, david robinson