Well, in the case of Kobe Bryant, we did know that Wednesday would make clear that he wasn’t seriously injured. But an afternoon that included Bryant gravely acknowledging about the moments after hyperextending his right knee: “I saw the (championship) ring flash before my eyes,” ended with a much different tone.
It became a glimpse into what it’s like to be on this advanced-chemistry team – and how Bryant has evolved into the guys’ guy that everyone said he wasn’t.
Here’s how it went down …
Bryant has an icepack wrapped around his right knee, standing by the door that leads from the practice court toward the Lakers’ locker room. He is done offering assurances about his health and is just chit-chatting with reporters.
Sasha Vujacic has been on the court long after organized team practice ended, doing extensive shooting to make up for time missed because of his injured left ankle. Vujacic has an appointment with a foot specialist in the morning to get the “green light,” but he’s already pushing hard on the accelerator.
Flush with that fulfilled feeling of workout done hard, Vujacic does one last thing as he nears Bryant and the exit door of the court. His reversible white jersey already soaked through with sweat, the extra tape on his left ankle visibly peeking up out of his sock, Vujacic pauses to grab a loose ball and throw up a 50-foot hook shot. It misses.
Bryant scoffs. He laughs. He says it wasn’t even close.
In man code, this is not an arbitrary comment. It is a direct challenge.
And it’s one that Vujacic cannot resist taking.
Vujacic goes to get a couple of basketballs. He misses twice. Bryant keeps talking.
Vujacic runs all the way across the court to fetch the balls to try again. His shots are close enough to keep him going – with the help of Bryant’s acerbic remarks in front of witnesses, no less. Time after time, Vujacic misses, pauses and determinedly says: “One more.”
“C’mon, man. I’ve got to explain to Natalia and Gianna why I’m late coming home,” says Bryant, referring to his daughters.
At least mindful of Vujacic’s sore ankle, Bryant barks into the team’s training room to Dan Panaggio, head coach of the Lakers’ minor-league affiliate, urging him to come help Vujacic with the rebounds. Panaggio does – and soon catches a Vujacic air ball right in the lane.
“Nice pass,” Bryant says. “The first assist of his career.”
After unsuccessfully trying to negotiate a cash payment from Vujacic for each rebound collected, a panting Panaggio packs it in and goes inside. Vujacic clangs the rim a few times and grows increasingly frustrated.
“Now don’t start pulling your hair out!” Bryant says to the shaggy Slovenian.
Vujacic tries banking the ball in and comes very close on most every attempt – but can’t stick the landing.
“This is like watching ‘Titanic,’ ” Bryant says. “The uncut version!”
To his credit, Vujacic then stands there with his arms extended a la Leonardo DiCaprio, yelling, “I’m the king of the world!” before letting fly the next attempt. That misses, too.
Showing impressive recall on the name of DiCaprio’s character in the movie, Jack Dawson, Bryant says: “C’mon, Jack!”
Vujacic prods Bryant, even with the icepack on his knee, to prove he can do it. Bryant doesn’t budge, saying: “This has nothing to do with me. Why are you mad at me?”
Vujacic, who wore No. 8 in Europe before being drafted by the Lakers in 2004, has long idolized Bryant. He was the first player brought to the team in its makeover from older players who resented Bryant to younger players who admired him.
Before Andrew Bynum figured it out and Jordan Farmar brought his rat to the gym, Vujacic was the first-round pick whom Bryant fundamentally respected for his work ethic. That part has not changed.
Bryant smiles to the side and says discreetly, “I wind him up like this all the time. He swallowed this one hook, line and sinker.”
After a few more misses, Vujacic exhales, looks up with begging eyes and asks Bryant: “You want to try half-court shots?”
Vujacic doesn’t mean it, though … especially after Bryant only prods him further: “You might not be mentally tough enough to make this.”
Vujacic heads back to the rack of basketballs. He refuses to wheel the whole thing over. He can’t stand the idea that he’ll need so many more tries.
So he just grabs a few balls. He lets yet another shot go, and this one feels good. Really good.
“Thank you, guys!” he sings brightly to those still watching as the ball nears the basket. “I’ll see you later!”
It caroms off the rim. Vujacic winces and mutters to himself, “Come on!” Bryant says quietly but audibly: “Not even close.”
Bryant then offers some context: “You know, this is a greatSnickers commercial.”
Vujacic is not going anywhere for a while, but he’s not grabbing a Snickers. By now, Lakers director of athletic performance Chip Schaefer is waiting for Vujacic to get treatment on his ankle, but that’ll have to wait.
“If you want to quit,” Bryant tells Vujacic, “quit.”
“I’m not going to quit!” Vujacic answers with a snarl. “You know me.”
And so on the 36th try, Vujacic hooks the shot up and watches quietly – too tired to talk – as it splashes cleanly into the net.
“Take that,” Vujacic says flatly as he strides past Bryant and through the door.
Bryant waits for his teammate to pass … and smiles.
