The 2-Man Weave

In the interest of transparency, I need to begin this post by revealing a poorly kept secret: I don’t like the Lakers, or Kobe Bryant. They’re my least favorite of anything. Of all time. Ever. It’s them, gefilte fish, and people who text message when they drive. The last thing I want is for anyone reading anything I ever say about the Lakers or Bryant to misunderstand this; in fact, I want you to be very familiar with it. If I can admit, embrace and reveal my biases while still thinking and writing objectively on the subject, I am successful. Ignoring or denying personal bias on an issue shows weakness in writing–and I’d like the weakness in my writing to speak for itself.

The all-defensive teams were released by the NBA yesterday, and Kobe Bryant was named to the first team for the 8th time. I can’t argue with that. Not because I think he deserves to be named to the team, but because these teams are picked by the NBA coaches. Believe it or not, NBA coaches know more than I do about the NBA. And believe it or not, I know it. Furthermore, I have fairly recently heard insiders such as Jason Quick and Kevin Calabro, two of the very best at what they do, say specifically that Bryant can “literally lock guys down.”

Herein lies the essence of my post. Because I absolutely, unequivocally, and in all other ways disagree. In going against those that know, reason suggests that I’m very wrong here, which I am fully prepared to admit. In fact, I made a concentrated effort to do so a short time ago. Surprised? Me too.

I had reached my conclusions about Bryant’s defense in the past based purely on homerism and the plays I wanted to remember (”Brandon Roy blew past Kobe repeatedly in the 4th, so Kobe’s sucks at D”). The problem with blatant homerism, though, is that it doesn’t always mesh well with wanting to be right–which I also like. So after hearing countless basketball geniuses praise Bryant’s unmatched defensive abilities, I decided to re-visit my conclusions and watch a few games with the express purpose of finding reasons to be wrong.

Unfortunately, I found them. Sort of. What I saw was a fantastic amount of highlight-reel blocks and steals that inspire awe and are indispensable for a winning team. (I’d embed that video, but I just can’t do it. Not on my blog. Be proud of me just for linking to it.) The truth is, Bryant may very well be the best off-the-ball defender I’ve ever seen. He has instincts like a cat, or even a… uhh… black mamba (I just threw up a little in my mouth) in knowing where the ball will end up as a play unfolds. He constantly baits the savviest of players into thinking that his attention is elsewhere, and then turns the tables for a steal. His blocks are nearly always of the same come-out-of-nowhere fashion that is fun to watch for everyone (who doesn’t have a seething hatred for the Lakers). Even worse, his defense almost always leads to offense and that is , undeniably, special.

The point of this Bryant love-fest in which I’m partaking is, one, to tell the truth as I saw it, endeavoring objectivity: he is phenomenal off the ball. The other reason for that last, most painful paragraph I’ve ever had to write: I want to convince you that when I say what I’m about to say, I’m not just talking out of my… ignorance.

And here it is: Kobe Bryant’s a terrible defender. Yeah, you heard me.

When I play pickup basketball, I’m actually a pretty good off-the-ball defender as well. That’s because in an effort to conserve energy (because I’m terribly out of shape and not very quick anyway) I do my best to pick out the worst guy on the court to guard. That way I can leave him, roam around, and help teammates with guys who are better. A fantastic side-effect is that my inability to stay in front of anyone off the dribble also remains unexposed.

This is exactly what Bryant does. No, not because he’s terribly out of shape and not very quick–his practice regimen is legendary and he’s got athleticism that most NBA players can’t even comprehend. But he does do it to conserve energy, just like my own terribly slow and lazy self. The difference between Bryant’s conservation of energy and mine is that his is actually a smart thing to do. It would be terrible coaching to have your best offensive player–even if he is your best defender–spend all of his energy chasing around the other team’s top player. If your team depends on you to take 30 shots a game and make at least 4 of them (can’t always suppress the homer), you’d better have the energy to do it. It’s far smarter to check other, less-agile players for most of the game and then switch to guard the #1 on key possessions.

That’s right. When you hear analysts say that “Kobe guards the best opposing player night in and night out,” it’s false. I don’t blame them, though. When I did this “research” I would just watch Bryant all game. Analysts have a lot to pay attention to, and a lot of games to watch. Either way, when they say that, I am now convinced that they haven’t paid close enough attention. It would be a downright idiotic thing to do to actually have him expend his energy in that way, and Phil Jackson knows better.

The other important distinction to make is that Bryant isn’t the Lakers’ best defender anyway–he has either a complete lack of ability or interest in staying in front of guys off the dribble. Bruce Bowen, while I’m on the subject of admitting terribly painful things about players I don’t like, is a guy who has that ability and that interest. He literally does guard the opposing team’s best player every night, every play. He also averages fewer than 6 shots a game for his career. The Spurs don’t need him to take a lot of shots; technically, I don’t think they want him to either. He’s as dirty a player as I’ve ever seen and may actually attempt to injure other players on a regular basis (see videos), but he is quick and smart enough to stay in front of a dribbler.

Bryant isn’t. Some of it is due to coaching strategy, and and some is due to the fact that he’s an uncoachable putz. What? Homerism again, you say? Try this on for size. Lakers’ assistant coach and the architect of the triangle offense, Tex Winter (via TrueHoop) says the same thing:

“I’d like to see him play better defense,” Winter said, adding that he had addressed the issue recently with Bryant but didn’t come away with the idea that Bryant was intent on changing his approach.

“You know Kobe,” Winter said with a chuckle. “He has his game plan. I think he heard me. But he feels there’s a certain way he’s got to play the game. But it doesn’t involve a lot of basically sound defense.”

Because the Lakers need so much of his effort at the offensive end, Bryant has adopted a save-energy plan on the defensive end, Winter said. “He’s basically playing a lot of one-man zone. He’s doing a lot of switching, zoning up, trying to come up with the interception.

“The way Kobe plays defensively affects the team,” Winter added. “Anybody that doesn’t play consistently good defense hurts the team. That’s not only Kobe. Our other guards tend to gamble and get beat.”

That’s right. Tex knows ball. Tex knows Bryant. And Tex knows that Bryant isn’t a good defender.

So does this mean that all of the other NBA coaches, analysts, announcers and fans have been duped? Some of them, probably. The others (coaches, I’m sure), I have to believe are just weighing his defensive strengths against the defensive liabilities. Like every NBA player, Kobe Bryant has strengths and weaknesses. He is as good as anyone I’ve ever seen at maximizing the good and hiding the bad. Bryant’s 8th nomination to the NBA’s All-Defensive First Team just tells me that NBA head coaches value his off-the-ball defense more than they have a problem with his on-ball defense (or lack thereof). That’s a conclusion I can live with, as long as others can live with my disagreement. There’s only so much of the homer in me I can set aside for the sake of objectivity.

Oh yeah, I almost forgot. Kobe sucks.