Chapter 56: Preseason Game 5 & 6: No Easy Nights

The Minnesota air hit hard enough to make even Shaq stop at the bottom of the stairs. He yanked his coat tighter and looked toward the terminal. “Man. Why does anybody live here?”

Fisher came down behind him, bag hanging from one shoulder. “It’s October.”

Shaq looked back at him. “And?”

“I’m saying it gets worse.”

“See, that’s what I’m talking about. That ain’t normal.”

Kobe stepped down behind them and immediately pulled his jacket tighter. The cold cut straight through it. Shaq was still fighting with his zipper when Kobe looked over.

“Thought all that insulation would help.”

Shaq stopped messing with the zipper. “What insulation?”

Kobe’s eyes dropped toward his stomach.

“Oh, no.” Shaq pointed at him. “Don’t do that. This is muscle.”

“Right.”

“I’m serious. I’ll take this coat off right now.”

Fisher kept walking toward the curb. “Nobody asked you to do that.”

“I’ll show both of y’all.”

“Please don’t.”

Kobe laughed and followed Fisher toward the bus.

Target Center was warmer. Kobe came through the tunnel and onto the floor while the building was still filling. Kevin Garnett was already working near one baseline, all limbs and energy, talking through nearly every rep. His frame had started to fill out since the year before, but not by much. He still looked stretched long in every direction.

A few feet away, Stephon Marbury worked through a series of crossovers, the ball snapping low and hard from hand to hand.

Garnett’s second year. Marbury’s first.

Kobe watched for a moment. Garnett chased down one of his misses and kept talking as he went. Marbury was quieter, his eyes coming up between dribbles, checking the floor even with nobody guarding him.

A loose ball bounced toward Kobe. He caught it and sent it back.

Garnett caught it against his chest. “Appreciate it, young fella.”

Marbury looked over. “Yo, Kobe.”

Kobe turned.

“You checking me tonight?”

Kobe shrugged. “If they put me on you.”

Marbury bounced the ball between his legs. “Tell ’em to.”

Kobe smiled. “You tell ’em.”

Marbury laughed under his breath and went back to his dribble.

Fisher came up beside Kobe with a ball tucked against his hip. “Five minutes in the building.”

“What?”

“You’re already starting stuff.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Exactly.”

Fisher tossed him the ball. Kobe caught it, rose and knocked down the jumper.

Harris opened with the same five he had used throughout preseason: Van Exel, Eddie, Ceballos, Campbell and Shaq. Kobe stayed with the second group. When Harris finally called him, Fisher was already headed toward the scorer’s table. Ben joined them at the next whistle.

Kobe noticed the difference on his first touch.

His defender crowded him before the ball ever arrived, riding his hip through the cut and forcing him farther from the wing than he wanted. Kobe caught anyway, but a second defender was already leaning toward him from the lane.

Kobe put the ball down once. The help stepped higher.

He moved it back to Fisher.

Fisher caught with space and shot. The ball came off long, but Ben ripped the rebound down between two Wolves and kicked it back outside.

The next trip, Ben came up to screen. Kobe turned the corner and Minnesota’s big stepped high while his defender chased from behind. Kobe got rid of the ball before they could close.

Ben caught near the foul line with nobody between him and the rim. One dribble. Two hands.

As they ran back, Fisher glanced over at Kobe. “They are paying a lot more attention to you tonight.”

Kobe looked toward the Minnesota bench. “They probably watched the Clippers game.”

“Probably.”

Fisher gave him a small nod and turned back toward the floor. “Just keep making the right play.”

Kobe did.

Minnesota made his catches harder, but he stopped trying to beat the pressure by himself. When the ball came, he attacked. When it did not, he moved, cut through, and let someone else use the space.

A few possessions later, Bowen knocked down a three after Kobe drew extra attention on the drive. On the way back, Bowen pointed once in Kobe’s direction before picking up his man.

At the next timeout, Shaq sat near the end of the bench with a towel over his shoulders.

“They are really coming after you tonight,” he said.

Kobe took a drink. “A little more than the last game.”

Shaq looked toward the Minnesota huddle. “That is fine with me.”

Kobe smiled. “I figured you would say that.”

“If they are looking at you, they are not looking at me.”

“That seems dangerous.”

Shaq laughed. “For them.”

Harris sent Shaq back in and left Kobe on the floor with him. On their first trip together, Shaq came up and planted a screen that gave Kobe room to turn the corner. Minnesota stepped toward Kobe for a moment, and he slipped the ball back to Shaq.

Shaq caught it in stride and finished with two hands.

As they ran back, Shaq glanced over at him. “Nice pass man.”

A few possessions later, Minnesota stayed closer to Shaq. Kobe came around the screen with room and stopped at the elbow. The jumper dropped cleanly through.

Shaq waited for him near half court. “You know, we might actually be good at this.”

“You sound surprised.”

“I’m surprised by you. I already knew I was good.”

Kobe chuckled sarcastically. “You are so humble.”

Shaq smiled and turned toward the ball.

Marbury came straight at Kobe on the next possession. He crossed half court with the ball low and quick, waited for Kobe to settle, then snapped a crossover back the other way. Kobe shifted with the first move, and Marbury was already past him.

The finish came high off the glass before Ben could get there.

Marbury looked back as he ran downcourt. “Lost you there.”

Kobe took the inbound unfazed.

There was nothing else to say. Marbury smiled and picked him up at the other end.

The next time down, Kobe gave him a little more room. Marbury worked the ball between his hands, looking for the same opening, but Kobe stayed balanced. When the screen came, Kobe fought over it and stayed close enough to make Marbury keep the dribble alive longer than he wanted. By the time he gave the ball up, Minnesota was already deep into the possession.

Marbury got him again a few minutes later, this time stopping for a jumper before Kobe could close the space. Kobe did not solve him completely, and he did not expect to. Marbury was too quick for that.

Garnett brought a different kind of energy. He talked through nearly every possession, chased rebounds outside his area, and ran the floor whether the ball was coming his way or not. Late in the second quarter, Marbury got into the lane and floated the ball toward the rim.

Garnett came flying in from the side and threw it down.

“Yeah, Steph!” Garnett shouted as he landed.

Marbury pointed back at him and was already retreating on defense.

Kobe took the inbound and watched Garnett run past. He remembered the length. The voice. The energy that seemed to have nowhere to go. Garnett was still thinner than the player Kobe remembered, but the rest was already there.

Fisher called for the ball, and Kobe moved on.

When Shaq returned later in the quarter, the floor changed with him. Kobe came around another screen and saw Garnett step across. He waited an extra beat before dropping the ball underneath.

Shaq caught it and hammered it through.

Tweeeet.

During the next timeout, Harris drew something on the board, erased part of it, then looked up.

“Kobe, what are they showing you off the screen?”

Kobe leaned forward. “Their weak-side guy is jumping out early; as soon as I turn the corner, he’s already sliding over. If we swing it before he’s back in position, Ben’s got a clean look at the top.”

Harris turned to Fisher. “Are you seeing the same thing?”

“Yeah, almost every time.”

“Then stop feeding it to Kobe on that side. Reverse it. Ben, be ready to catch and go.”

Ben nodded once.

Harris tapped the board and moved to the next set.

The next time Minnesota collapsed around Kobe, he got the ball out before they could close him off. Fisher moved it across to Bowen, who caught in the corner and knocked down the shot. Harris was already pointing them back on defense.

From there, the game settled into a rhythm. Kobe did not spend every possession trying to solve whatever Minnesota threw at him. Sometimes he attacked. Sometimes he gave it up. He found Ben cutting through the lane, hit Fisher ahead in transition, and took the jumper when Minnesota finally gave him room.

Marbury kept coming too.

He used a high screen late in the third and found Garnett rolling toward the basket for another finish. A few possessions later, Marbury got loose with the ball near the wing and Kobe knocked it away. Fisher scooped it up, pushed ahead, and Kobe filled the lane for the finish.

By the second half, Kobe and Shaq no longer needed much conversation to find each other. Shaq would come up to screen without being called. Kobe began recognizing when he was going to roll and when he was going to stay. After one defensive rebound, Shaq held the ball against his chest until Kobe came back toward him.

“Here.”

Kobe took it and started upcourt.

Shaq lumbered after him. “I’m trusting you with valuable property.”

Kobe looked down at the ball. “It belongs to the league.”

“Not when I get the rebound.”

Kobe laughed and crossed half court.

At the next stoppage, Shaq dropped onto the bench and wiped his face with a towel.

“What are you doing after this?”

Kobe looked over. “Sleeping.”

“Nah. Let’s grab something to eat.”

Fisher leaned forward from two seats away. “Who’s paying?”

Shaq lowered the towel. “Why does everybody ask me that?”

“Because it’s an important clarification,” Kobe said.

Shaq considered how broke they were. “That is a fair point.”

Late in Kobe’s final stretch, Shaq came up for another screen. Kobe turned the corner and waited as Minnesota closed around him. Shaq rolled into the space behind the defense, and Kobe slipped the ball through the gap.

Shaq caught it and slammed it home with two hands, leaving the rim shaking behind him.

On the way back, he caught up to Kobe and bumped him with a shoulder.

“You feel that?”

Kobe glanced over. “Feel what?”

“That.” Shaq motioned between them. “Chemistry. You can’t teach that.”

Kobe smiled. “We’ve played together for about ten minutes.”

“Exactly. Ten minutes.” Shaq held up both hands. “And look at us already.”

“It’s preseason, big fella.”

“Don’t do that.” Shaq pointed at him. “Don’t try to make it small. This could be the beginning of something.”

“It’s October.”

“Legends start in October.”

Kobe looked at him. “You just made that up.”

“Doesn’t make it wrong.”

“That doesn’t make it right either.”

Shaq thought about that for half a second. “Write it down anyway.”

Kobe laughed. “I’m not writing that down.”

“Somebody will.” Shaq turned toward his man. “Probably me.”

Kobe shook his head as he settled back into his stance.

“Legends start in October,” Shaq repeated, quieter this time. “That’s good.”

“It’s terrible.”

“You’re eighteen. What do you know?”

The ball came across half court before Kobe could answer, and Shaq was still smiling when the next possession started.

The Lakers controlled the rest of the game. Minnesota made one last push in the fourth, but never got close enough to make Harris bring Shaq back. Kobe spent the final minutes on the bench beside Fisher, watching Marbury attack the same way he had all night and Garnett chase down a rebound that looked well out of his reach.

When the horn sounded, Kobe pulled the towel from around his shoulders and joined the line of players heading off the floor.

Garnett caught him before he reached the tunnel and pulled him into a quick handshake. “Not bad for the high school boys.”

Kobe smiled. “We’re doing all right.”

Lakers 128 – Timberwolves 110Kobe: 20 PTS, 5 REB, 12 AST, 3 STL in 27 minutes

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The next stop was Portland.

Memorial Coliseum was already loud when the Lakers came out for warmups. Kobe worked through his usual routine, but he spent part of it watching Portland’s wings at the other end.

They had size, experience, and enough film from the last few games to know he wasn’t playing like a normal rookie.

Kobe expected them to test him.

They did it immediately.

On his first cut toward the right wing, the defender met him with a forearm against his hip and carried him farther outside than Kobe wanted to go. Kobe still made the catch, but his feet were nearly on the sideline. He gave the ball back to Van Exel and cleared through.

The contact came again on the next possession. Kobe tried to break toward the elbow and felt a hand catch the back of his jersey for half a second.

He looked at the official.

Nothing.

Kobe turned and ran back.

He knew that game.

The next time down, he started toward the same spot. The defender leaned into him, expecting Kobe to fight through the contact again.

Kobe didn’t.

He planted, let the pressure carry the defender forward, then cut behind him. Fisher saw it and put the ball out in front.

Kobe caught it on the move and finished off the glass.

The defender took the inbound and ran past him without a word.

A few possessions later, Kobe tried to hold his position near the elbow and got moved anyway. The difference in strength was real. He could remember playing through contact like this without giving up an inch.

His body couldn’t do that yet.

So he stopped asking it to.

Instead of wrestling for spots, Kobe started giving Portland something to push against and leaving before the contact arrived. He changed directions more often, cut behind defenders who crowded him, and caught the ball on the move instead of standing around waiting for it.

It worked.

One defender stayed with him through two changes of direction and forced a difficult jumper that came off the back rim. On another possession, Kobe tried to squeeze between two bodies and lost the ball off his leg.

He grimaced and ran back.

Van Exel caught up with him, grinning already. “They’re beating your ass out here.”

Shaking his head, he responded. “You think I don’t notice?”

By the second quarter, Kobe had settled into the game. The contact was still there. A shoulder caught him coming around one screen, and somebody got away with a grab on another cut. Kobe missed a pull-up short after fighting through traffic, then got knocked off balance on a drive and had to throw the ball back outside.

But Portland couldn’t keep him from affecting the game.

He found Bowen in the corner when the lane closed. He hit Ben cutting underneath after his defender turned his head. When Portland finally backed off enough to keep him in front, Kobe rose from the elbow and buried the jumper.

During a timeout, Fisher dropped into the seat beside him.

Fisher looked over as Kobe rolled his shoulder.

“You all right?”

Kobe tested it once more. “Yeah. Just sore.”

Fisher glanced at the red mark near the top of it. “They’ve been on you all night.”

“I know.”

“You want anything for it?”

Kobe shook his head. “I’m good.”

Fisher let it go. “All right.”

Harris stepped in front of the bench and went through the next set. When the horn sounded, Kobe reached for his warmup shirt instead of getting up with the others.

His night was done.

He pulled the shirt over his head and settled back into his seat as the game resumed. His shoulder still throbbed, and he could already tell his legs were going to be stiff in the morning.

Lakers 95 – Trail Blazers 90Kobe: 27 PTS, 6 REB, 7 AST, 2 STL, 1 BLK in 28 minutes