Chapter 82: The Picture

Madison Square Garden always made a show of being the center of the universe.

Kobe had seen the banners and the lighting rig before, but on Tuesday night, with the Lakers 2–0 and his name still running through the national news cycle, the building felt different.

Photographers lined the baseline, former players and league people filled the good seats, and Knicks blue climbed all the way into the upper deck.

Kobe moved through warmups without paying much attention to any of it. He’d played enough games in this building in another life to know the noise would take care of itself once the ball went up. What interested him was happening near the paint.

Patrick Ewing was thirty-four, but there was nothing old about him as he worked through his shots. His movements were economical, almost boring until the ball left his hands and kept going in.

Across from him, Shaq looked just as comfortable, finishing hooks and short jumpers before occasionally glancing toward Ewing.

Charles Oakley was nearby, rebounding everything that came his way and making even warmups look physical. Larry Johnson talked through most of his routine, while John Starks seemed to have a conversation going with anyone who came within ten feet of him.

Del Harris waited until everyone was in before looking around the huddle. “They’re going to hit you tonight. Don’t spend all night looking at the officials.”

Shaq smiled. “Who you talking to?”

“You know exactly who I’m talking to.”

A few guys laughed, and Del pointed toward the floor. “Make Ewing run. Make Oakley guard somebody besides Shaq. If we stand around and let them load the paint, we’re doing their job for them.”

He looked around once more. “Play fast when it’s there. If it isn’t, settle down and run our stuff. Let’s go.”

Once the game started, Charlie Ward picked Kobe up. He stayed low, watched Kobe’s body instead of the ball, and gave him enough contact through the first screen to make it clear it was going to be a rough night.

The Lakers went to Shaq early. Oakley came almost as soon as the entry pass arrived, and Ewing got a hand on Shaq’s kick-out.

New York went the other way, where Ewing cleaned up a miss and put the Knicks on the board.

Kobe answered from the elbow on the next trip. He didn’t spend the opening minutes hunting shots after that. New York was loading toward Shaq and keeping bodies near the paint, so Kobe moved the ball, changed sides and took the space Ward gave him. When Ward followed him too tightly toward a screen, Kobe doubled back into the middle and floated a runner over Oakley’s late help.

Ewing kept answering Shaq at the other end. On one possession, Shaq took away the baseline and waited for him to force something toward the middle. Ewing simply faced, created enough room, and buried the fadeaway over his reach.

Shaq stared at him as he took the inbound. “Fuck.”

Kobe came back for the ball with a smile. “Old man got some moves.”

“I ain’t surprised.” He laughed as they crossed half court.

The next time down, Shaq made sure he got the ball deeper. Ewing leaned into him before the catch, Shaq leaned back harder, and for a few seconds neither seemed particularly interested in the other eight players on the court. Kobe waited until Oakley started creeping toward the paint before cutting into the lane.

Shaq caught the ball, turned quickly, and went up strong. Ewing met him at the rim, but Shaq’s weight carried both of them underneath as the ball dropped through.

Neither team created much separation. Houston found a couple of jumpers, Eddie Jones answered from the perimeter, and Oakley made every drive through the lane uncomfortable. When Starks checked in late, the pace picked up immediately. He ran through screens, attacked Bowen off the catch, and played to the Garden after drawing a foul.

With the score tied at 23, Kobe called Shaq high on the Lakers’ final possession. Ward fought over, Ewing stepped toward the ball, and Campbell slipped behind the help. Kobe dropped the pass over the top for the finish.

Houston missed at the other end.

Lakers 25, Knicks 23.

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Quarter two belonged to New York’s bench. With Kobe and Shaq resting, Derek Fisher handled the ball while Starks turned the other end into a sprint. He hit a three, created another jumper off a pump fake, then drew enough attention coming around a screen to free Houston on the opposite side.

The Garden responded to all of it. Starks seemed to feed off every extra shout, and New York’s defense tightened with him. Fisher tried to settle the Lakers, but without Shaq occupying the middle, the ball spent too much time moving around the perimeter without forcing the Knicks to change shape.

By the time Kobe returned with a little over six minutes left, New York led by six.

New York kept finding Ewing. He and Shaq fought for every inch before the catch, and Ewing was patient once he got the ball, using the jumper instead of trying to overpower him. Shaq answered by getting a deeper position at the other end and hammering one through before Oakley could arrive.

The Knicks still pushed the lead to seven before Kobe settled the Lakers again. He hit another pull-up, then anticipated Starks coming off a screen and knocked the ball loose toward Bowen.

Eddie finished the break.

A possession later, Ewing caught with Shaq leaning into him and drew the foul as he turned toward the middle.

Shaq stared at the official while Ewing headed to the line.

“It’s cool; get him on the next one,” Kobe said.

Shaq shook his head. “Man, get outta here.”

Kobe smiled and took his place along the lane.

Ewing made the first and missed the second. Shaq ripped down the rebound harder than necessary and handed it to Kobe without saying anything.

“Damn, chill out,” Kobe said.

“Fuck that, give me the ball.”

The rest of the half stayed physical. Every time Los Angeles threatened to close the gap, Houston hit something or Oakley created another possession. Kobe got one final chance with the Lakers down three, but Ward stayed attached, and Oakley met him in the lane. The runner came off the back rim.

Knicks 52, Lakers 49.

The next trip started from the opposite side. Ewing stayed lower, Kobe turned the corner just far enough to get his attention, and Eddie was waiting on the wing.

Three.

New York answered through Ewing, but the Lakers were making them cover more ground now. Shaq slipped a screen for an easy finish, Campbell came high on another possession while Shaq stayed near the block, and Eddie kept moving whenever Houston turned his head.

It became Eddie’s best stretch of the night. Kobe found him cutting for a layup, then hit him on the wing for another jumper.

“Keep moving,” Kobe told him.

On the next trip, Kobe drove toward Ewing and saw Houston pinch toward the lane before he’d even reached it. The pass went out to Eddie immediately. Houston tried to recover, but Eddie took one dribble toward the baseline and rose before he could get there.

Another two.

Eddie backpedaled with a grin. “Again.”

Kobe pointed toward the other end. “Play some defense first.”

They nearly did. Starks missed over Bowen, but Oakley knocked the rebound back outside, and Houston eventually punished them with another jumper.

New York never let the game turn. Houston continued hitting difficult shots, Starks created offense whenever he found space, and Ewing remained a problem against Shaq. Even when the Lakers defended the first action, Oakley kept possessions alive around the glass.

Kobe sat briefly late in the quarter and watched Ewing from the bench. The Knicks center still held his ground against Shaq and still punished bad coverage, but he was tired.

When Del sent him back with under two minutes remaining, Kobe caught Shaq’s eye and tapped high on the floor. Shaq nodded.

They went right back to it. Kobe brought Shaq farther from the basket, forced Ewing to step away from the paint and moved the ball when Ward recovered. Shaq slipped behind the coverage for another finish, but Houston answered before the quarter ended.

Knicks 78, Lakers 74.

Kobe sat beside Shaq as the Garden rose around them. Shaq took a long drink, wiped his mouth with the back of his wrist and looked at the scoreboard.

“Five more points.”

Kobe nodded. “Yup.”

Shaq handed the bottle back. “Let’s go get it.”

Kobe stood with him.

The first possession of the fourth started with Shaq high again. Ward followed Kobe over the screen while Ewing waited below it. Shaq rolled, Ewing hesitated, and Kobe attacked before the gap could close.

Oakley stepped across.

Kobe went anyway.

He absorbed the contact, twisted around it and put the ball high off the glass. The whistle came before the ball dropped through.

Oakley turned toward the official. “What am I supposed to do?”

Kobe walked to the line without joining the conversation.

He made the free throw.

Knicks 78 – Lakers 77.

Ewing answered with another fadeaway.

The teams traded baskets until the game tightened again. Houston hit from the middle, Eddie answered, and Shaq matched Ewing inside. Ward changed how he played the screen from one possession to the next, sometimes fighting over, sometimes ducking underneath, but Kobe didn’t need the same answer twice.

Then he saw the opening.

Shaq came high. Ward fought over the screen, and Ewing stayed with Shaq a fraction too long.

Kobe exploded through the gap.

Ward was already behind him when Ewing turned. The big man stepped across the lane and rose to meet him, both arms going straight up.

Kobe planted off his left foot and launched.

Ewing was there.

Kobe kept rising.

Their bodies collided above the restricted area, but Kobe’s momentum carried him higher and forward. His left hand came down across the back of Ewing’s head and shoulder as his legs swung through, Ewing suddenly underneath him instead of in front of him.

Kobe cocked the ball back in his right hand.

BOOM.

He crushed it through.

For a split second, the picture was ridiculous—Kobe practically straddling Ewing in midair, his left hand braced against the back of the seven-footer’s head as Ewing disappeared beneath him.

The Garden lost its mind.

Kobe ripped his hand from the rim and dropped to the floor as Ewing stumbled through the baseline. The Lakers bench was already on its feet. Shaq had both hands on his head, staring at Kobe like even he needed a second to process what he’d just seen.

Kobe landed, turned, and looked back at Ewing.

He couldn’t help it.

He grinned.

By the time the baseline photographers lowered their cameras, Kobe was already turning toward the other end.

Shaq caught him near half court and slapped the back of his head. “Kobe!”

Kobe kept grinning. “Get back on defense.”

Shaq laughed and turned toward Ewing.

Van Gundy changed the matchup at the next dead ball. Starks checked in and went straight to Kobe, crowding him before the inbound.

Starks made him work farther from the basket than Ward had, so Kobe stopped trying to get to the same places. He gave the ball up, moved through the lane and came back off a different angle. Starks fought over the screen.

Kobe stopped at the elbow.

Starks carried himself half a step too far.

Kobe buried the jumper.

New York answered through Ewing, then Johnson switched onto Kobe on the next Lakers possession. Kobe backed the ball out and watched Johnson settle into his stance.

“Come on, young fella.”

Johnson gave him enough space to protect the drive.

Kobe rose from three.

Swish.

The Lakers bench jumped up, but Kobe was already moving back. Van Gundy called timeout before his players were halfway to the bench.

As Kobe headed toward Del, he looked across the floor and saw Van Gundy point toward him, then hold up two fingers.

The first double arrived before Kobe’s second dribble. Starks pushed him toward the sideline and Oakley came hard from Campbell, but Kobe never let the trap close. He moved the ball to Eddie, who swung it to Bowen. Houston rotated toward the corner, and Bowen found Eddie cutting behind him for the reverse.

The next time Oakley came early, Kobe sent it across to Bowen. Johnson rotated, Bowen found Campbell near the baseline, and Campbell finished.

New York had taken Kobe’s shot away twice. The Lakers had scored four points.

Houston and Ewing kept the Knicks close, but every double created another opening. Eddie attacked a closeout and found Shaq when Ewing stepped toward the lane. Shaq caught and hammered it through.

New York stayed close until the final two minutes. Ewing missed a turnaround, Shaq secured the rebound, and the Lakers slowed everything down. When the double came again, Kobe moved it through Eddie and Bowen until Shaq sealed Ewing underneath.

Shaq finished.

Lakers 98– Knicks 92.

Ewing demanded the ball again. Shaq pushed the catch farther from the paint, stayed with the turnaround and watched it hit the front rim. He ripped down the rebound and gave it to Kobe.

Ninety seconds remained.

Kobe let the clock run before calling Shaq up. Oakley stepped higher, the ball moved through Eddie and Bowen, and Shaq ducked back inside. Ewing fouled him before the shot.

Shaq made the first.

Lakers 99 – Knicks 92.

The second missed, but New York couldn’t capitalize. Houston missed a difficult jumper, Campbell secured the rebound, and Starks fouled Kobe with less than a minute remaining.

As Kobe walked to the line, Shaq passed behind him. “Told you doubling you was good for me.”

Kobe took the ball from the official. “You’re welcome.”

Shaq laughed.

Kobe made both.

Lakers 101– Knicks 92.

New York pushed one last time. Houston came around a screen looking for a quick three, but Eddie stayed attached and forced him toward the sideline. The shot came up long, and Shaq secured the rebound.

“Give it here,” Kobe said.

Shaq handed him the ball, and New York finally backed away. Kobe walked across half court as the final seconds disappeared. Around him, the Garden began to rise.

He stopped dribbling near the Knicks logo and held the ball against his hip.

The horn sounded with the scoreboard still reading Lakers 101, Knicks 92.

Shaq reached him first and slapped him across the back. “Three-and-oh.”

Kobe smiled.

They walked toward midcourt as both teams exchanged handshakes. Oakley stopped briefly with Shaq, Eddie found Houston, and Starks disappeared toward the Knicks bench.

Ewing didn’t come over.

He shook Shaq’s hand near the lane, then turned toward the tunnel. As he passed Kobe, he glanced his way but kept walking.

Shaq watched him go, a grin spreading across his face.

“Hey, Pat!”

Ewing kept walking.

Shaq started laughing. “Pat! Come back, man!”

Ewing lifted one hand without turning around and disappeared into the tunnel.

That only made Shaq laugh harder.

Along the baseline, photographers were already gathered around their cameras, pointing toward the rim and reenacting the play with their hands.

Kobe looked over.

One photographer caught his eye and lifted his camera with a grin.

Somebody had gotten it.