Get Your Laker Hate On!

We've all been watching the finals, cursing, screaming and taking it out on our family members as the Lakers steer closer and closer to that trophy. Hoping Hulkamania storms out on the court and drops a suplex on Kobe Bryant. Crossing our fingers that Dwight Howard's errant elbows will windmill into a five man knockout blow, inducing the only forfeit in Finals history. Praying Phil Jackson's throne gives out from under him and crushes that back of his, leaving him to coach from a different type of special chair. The kind with wheels.

I think it's safe to say we all hate the Lakers. If you don't you need to get your head examined. And by examined I mean held underwater for an extended period of time. So get it all out here. Rant and rave within the boundaries of the rules, common decency and the court. We all know about Kobe's past discretions and what not. But what's happening ON the court that's getting under your skin? What are the finer points of the Lakers that cause veins you didn't know existed to pop out of your skull? Why is it that when you see purple and gold you're like a bull at, well, a Bull's game?

Me, it started with the under-bite. That new face Kobe seemed to put so much work into. I picture him in front of the mirror, practicing his new "mean mug" and thinking to himself "Yeah, Mark Jackson's going to have something to say about this one, they're going to be all like wow, Kobe sure is serious about winning this year, look at his face!"

He looks like a starving pelican. He looks like his shoddy dentist gave him the wrong invisiline. He looks like he's trying to eat his own face.

Of course we can't talk about the Lakers without talking about the national media's kiss-on-the-lips policy towards them. No one wants to mention they had the easiest road to the finals in a long time, paved with opposing team injuries and an unusually whistle-happy playoffs. Not a conspiracy by any means, but for some reason this year games were called as though any contact would result in a bench clearing brawl. Or all the players were actually little girls and a foul would cause their ice cream to fall out of the cone and onto the hot sidewalk. We all know Papa Stern is a tightwad and doesn't like to buy more ice cream. 

And Phil Jackson. Pfft. Phil Jackson. I'd have two hands full of rings if I coached teams with the best players of all time as well. Here's my brilliant strategy. Give it to my best-player-of-all-time and if he can't get a shot, dish it out to one of our role players sheepishly waiting in the corner. You really think if Phil Jackson took on a struggling franchise he'd be as good a coach? Send him to the Kings or the Clippers and see how well they do. He would be lost as a kid at the circus. Scary clowns towering over him, leering rubes taking note he has no parents, afraid he'd just have to live there the rest of his life.

Oh, don't forget the Lakers fans. I've never been to Staples Center, but I envision the gift shop being just walls of XXL Bryant Jerseys. Nothing else. If you went in and asked "Excuse me, do you have a Gasol jersey?" a record would scratch and the tinkling sound of forks being dropped would preface the accompanying silence. Or if you ordered a custom Lakers jersey for your kid like "Jeffery #1" you'd open it up and it would be "Bryant #24". They probably have a program like "guns for funs" only it's "Jordan for Bryant" where you bring in your early 90's Bulls gear for some brand new Kobe Jerseys and T-Shirts.

Not that the fans would care. The average basketball IQ of a Lakers fan is just beyond: "which color do we root for?" I swear during games at staples center you can hear various fans yell out "touchdown!" or "homerun!". This is likely because tickets to Lakers games are primarily used as currency for corporate and hollywood glad-handing.

"If you take a look at this script, we've got center court Lakers tickets for you"

"Why don't we discuss the merger on the floor at the Lakers game?"

"I think these tickets say I didn't strangle her, officer"

There's a whole myriad of other problems with the Lakers. Farmar's ears. Vujacic's I-just-hit-a-full-court-game-winning-world-champion-shot reaction FROM THE BENCH. Trevor Ariza and the bad blood all Portland fans have towards him. Shannon Brown and his beady ventriloquist's doll eyes that don't seem to move but follow you wherever you walk. Pau Gasol's looking like he was hatched from an egg and everyone knowing he's terribly overrated. That turncoat Luke Walton. Knowing Adam effing Morrison is going to be wearing a ring. Lamar Odom. Just Lamar Odom.

But I'll take this year for what it's worth. The pique for the Lakers is now and I'm sure low, low valleys will follow. The beginning of the next NBA season will be a fanfare of "Lakers will repeat" until the cracks begin to show. Until a certain team north of California threatens to dethrone the empire in the city of angels during the post-season, leaving them to walk away, heads held low and full of self doubt. Causing their superstar to rethink his future with that team and a legendary, but aging, coach to consider retirement. Knowing their days at the top are not numbered, but have reached zero.