http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=jones/061218 By Bomani Jones Page 2 Anybody out there still hating on Kobe Bryant needs to stop. Now. No more knocking his shot selection, his reluctance to pass to teammates, or even his belief that shooting in traffic is a better option than another man shooting. (As for things unrelated to the game of basketball, no more knocking him for destroying the Lakers dynasty or for what he told Five-Oh in Eagle, Colo., either.) It has been fun, and he earned a lot of it. But when a man has a week in which he puts up 131 points, 25 rebounds and 22 assists over three games and starts the second overtime period of one of those games by dunking on a 7-foot-5 center who blocked eight shots that night, one game after drilling a well-guarded 24-footer after a stinging shot to the funny bone, it's time to give him some props. Most people can't even unscrew the lid of a bottle of hot sauce after something like that. But most people aren't Kobe, the best player on the planet, as singular a superstar as there is in sports. He's averaging 28.7 points per game, and he's got a career-high .487 shooting percentage. His shot selection has improved some, but not as much as his shot. Here's the most interesting thing about Kobe – his game often seems to operate with little concern for what the defense does, a rare trait for a guard in the NBA. Were he an NFL running back, he'd be like Earl Campbell, even though he's as smooth as O.J. Simpson. It doesn't matter much to Kobe if a defender bites on his fake. If he goes left, comes back through his legs to the right, and the poor soul checking him happens to still be in his face, the shot will still go up. There is a decent chance it'll go in, but little doubt that it will go up. Take the aforementioned 3-pointer for example. Bryant took an awkward fall in the third quarter against the Mavericks on Wednesday night and took a shot to his elbow that left his arm smarting. After a 20-second timeout, two made free throws and one Dallas possession, Bryant's arm was still a problem. But not enough of a problem to stop him from approaching the 3-point line slowly, dribbling through his legs twice, giving a token jab step (which didn't fake anyone out) and draining a triple. Kobe had no intention of going to the rack, and he surely didn't plan to give the ball to anyone else. And guess what? Even with a bruised wing, he should have done neither. There was little doubt that the jumper would go in, and if it didn't, it was still a better look than putting the ball in the hands of any other Laker. Right now, there aren't a lot of good reasons for Kobe to share. Shaq is no longer an option. For the next few weeks, neither is Lamar Odom. Kobe shares the floor with guys like Smush Parker and Kwame Brown. This is pretty much the same flawed roster the team trotted out last season. There are a couple of improved players – notably Luke Walton and Andrew Bynum – but overall they're still the same dudes, none of whom can be counted on consistently. The Lakers' most significant offseason addition, Vladimir Radmanovic, is averaging a disappointing 6.5 points a night, and that's after putting up 27 against the Wizards on Sunday. While Shaq was in his prime, shots like Kobe's 3-pointer against the Mavs were hard to watch. It seemed absurd that Bryant could think that a 20-footer with someone's freakishly long arms in his face was a better look for his team than swinging the ball around and setting up a post feed. Even when he would meander through the regular season out of shape, the Diesel was unstoppable. Shaq was ridiculously strong, as agile as any human his size could be and he had an underrated repertoire of post moves. Anything more than a wide-open jumper was an inferior option. It didn't matter that Kobe would hit plenty of those contested shots. That he would even consider taking them was the problem. And the Lakers were worse for it. From Bryant's second season in the NBA until last season, he averaged more shot attempts per game in losses than he did in wins. Not this season. In the 13 Lakers wins he's played in, Bryant's averaging 21 shots per night. In the Lakers' eight losses, he's averaging 17.5 attempts. So for the first time since he was a rookie, the Lakers are better the more Kobe shoots. Wait, did the devil just open up a lemonade stand? Kobe Bryant doesn't shoot enough? He's too willing to pass the rock? With the collection of vagabonds surrounding him and the fact that he's more deadly than ever, what was a bad shot in 2001 is a great one in 2006, even if the two happen to look the same. If Kobe's problem is that he doesn't shoot enough – which no one thinks is caused by fear or reluctance – is there anything left to knock in his game? He might be better at getting to the basket than any 11-year veteran has ever been. By that point in their careers, most players tend to grow weary of being pounded in the paint and spend a lot more time hanging around the perimeter. His perimeter jumper is as nice as it ever has been. He's a defensive stopper, and his conditioning is unreal. Anyone who saw Bryant go to the rim and swat Gilbert Arenas' layup in transition with 4:25 left in regulation Sunday night can verify those last two points. And for the first time in his career, Bryant sincerely seems like one of the guys, someone whom most people might actually be able to hang with. He smiles and jokes with his teammates. He encourages them. After spending years in a tug-of-war with Phil Jackson, the two appear to interact like a father and son. And it's a beautiful sight. Unlike any other athlete, Bryant has grown up before our eyes. We saw him enter the league with youthful hubris, followed by an adolescence when he grew tired of Jackson's paternalism and sharing a room with his de facto "big brother." He then found himself free from both of them but overwhelmed by leading his own crew. Now, with more years of experience and a new willingness to take a helping hand from Phil, he has turned into as complete a player as we'll ever see. Kobe's professional evolution has been similar to the personal progression many people make as they move from their teenage years into adulthood. That makes sense. After all, the world met Kobe when he was 17. The only difference is that the vast majority navigates those formative years in private while Kobe did so under the bright lights of Hollywood. But as most people figure things out, Kobe has done the same. He has come so far, both on the court and off, that his biggest problem right now is that he might not shoot enough. Who woulda thunk it? -- 好人卡大特價～發卡的季節到囉!! ⊙ ⊙ ◤ ▼▼▼▼ ▲▲▲▲ █︶█ ) )).. ( ︶ --

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