Chapter 86: The Old Heads

The second quarter started with Houston making its adjustments.

The Rockets weren’t interested in matching the Lakers’ pace anymore.

They got back on defense, took their time on offense, and made sure Kobe couldn’t get comfortable bringing the ball up.

Drexler picked him up near half court on the first possession. Kobe called for Shaq to set a screen, but Drexler slipped around it and recovered before Kobe could turn the corner. Hakeem stepped toward the lane, cutting off the drive, and Kobe kicked the ball to Eddie Jones on the wing.

Eddie’s jumper bounced off the back rim. Barkley grabbed the rebound, tucked the ball against his chest, and waited for Matt Maloney to come back for it.

The trouble was everywhere else.

Barkley kept backing Campbell toward the basket, using his strength to create space before turning into short jumpers. When the Lakers sent help, he found the open man. On one possession, Kobe rotated toward the paint, only for Barkley to kick the ball out to Mario Elie for an open three.

The shot dropped, and Houston’s crowd came alive.

Kobe looked toward Campbell as they ran back. “Don’t let him get that deep in the paint.”

“I’m trying,” Campbell muttered.

Houston had cut the lead to two, and the Lakers were having a much harder time finding easy baskets. Drexler stayed close whenever Kobe moved without the ball, bumping him off his cuts and making him fight for position. Kobe finally caught him leaning the wrong way, used a quick hesitation to create space, and pulled up from the three-point line.

Splash.

Drexler shook his head as Kobe jogged past.

“That’s too much room, Clyde.”

Drexler answered a few possessions later. He caught the ball on the wing, backed Kobe down twice, then turned over his shoulder for a jumper that dropped cleanly through the net.

Midway through the quarter, Del Harris brought Ben Wallace in for Campbell. Wallace immediately went to work fighting Barkley for position, but the veteran welcomed him with a hard bump, spun toward the basket, and finished before Ben could recover.

Barkley looked down at him with a grin.

“Welcome to the league, rook.”

Wallace said nothing. He simply grabbed the ball and handed it to Kobe.

Kobe gave him a pat on the back. “Don’t worry. He talks shit to everybody.”

The Lakers managed to push the pace a few times, and Kobe knocked down another jumper after catching Drexler behind a screen. But Houston was getting better at recognizing when to retreat instead of chasing the ball. Every missed opportunity seemed to turn into another slow possession for the Rockets, another chance for Hakeem or Barkley to go to work.

With less than two minutes remaining, the Lakers’ seven-point advantage was gone.

Beep. Beep.

Halftime: Lakers 49 – Rockets 49

Shaq walked toward the tunnel beside Kobe, pulling at the collar of his jersey.

“Man, these motherfuckers don’t go away.”

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The locker room was quiet, besides the huffing and gurgling of water. Shaq sat on the training table with a towel over his face while Del Harris went over Houston’s adjustments. Eddie Jones leaned against his locker, listening, and Kobe sat nearby with a bottle of water.

“They’re getting too many second chances,” Del said. “We’re playing good defense for twenty seconds, then giving them another possession because nobody gets the rebound. That’s gotta stop.”

He looked at Campbell and Wallace, then turned back to the rest of the team.

“And move the ball. Don’t let them turn every possession into one guy trying to beat five.”

Kobe nodded. Houston had done a good job taking away the easy opportunities that had been there in the first quarter.

Kobe looked toward Shaq. “You good?”

Shaq lifted the towel just enough to show his eyes.

“They’re double-teaming my lower back with those elbows. But yeah, I’m good.”

Kobe laughed. “Welcome to Houston.”

“Man, fuck Houston.”

That got a laugh out of Wallace.

Houston came out of halftime looking much the same as it had in the second quarter. Maloney organized the offense, Elie made himself available along the perimeter, and Hakeem continued finding ways to score against Shaq.

On one possession, Hakeem caught the ball near the left block, faced up, and gave Shaq a quick jab step. Shaq stayed with him, refusing to bite on the first fake. Hakeem tried another, then spun baseline and released a fading jumper.

Swish.

Shaq shook his head in disbelief; the dream shake was practically unstoppable.

The Lakers stayed close through the middle of the quarter. Kobe found Eddie cutting toward the basket for a reverse layup, then used a screen from Shaq to get into the lane for a difficult floater. Bowen contributed with a defensive stop against Elie, and Wallace fought Barkley for a rebound that nearly sent both men sprawling.

But Drexler continued making Kobe work for every play.

At one point, Kobe caught the ball on the wing, jabbed right, and tried to cross back left. Drexler stayed in front of him. Kobe spun toward the baseline, but Drexler recovered again, forcing him into a difficult fadeaway.

The shot missed.

Houston began pulling ahead late in the quarter. Hakeem drew a foul against Shaq and knocked down both free throws. Barkley followed with a putback after another offensive rebound, and Drexler buried a jumper when Kobe got caught behind a screen.

Del called a timeout before the lead could grow any larger.

Shaq dropped onto the bench, breathing hard, and grabbed a towel. Kobe sat beside him, taking a long drink of water while Del reminded everyone to stop giving Houston extra possessions.

“Man,” Shaq muttered, “how the hell are these old dudes still running?”

Kobe looked across the court.

Drexler was standing near the Houston bench with his hands on his hips, listening to Tomjanovich. He’d spent most of the night making Kobe work for everything, and he’d done a damn good job of it.

The Lakers returned to the floor and managed to cut into Houston’s lead. Eddie knocked down a jumper, Shaq finished inside, and Kobe forced Drexler to fight through another screen before finding Bowen for an open shot.

Houston answered with another basket from Hakeem, and the final minute passed without either team creating much separation.

When the buzzer sounded, the scoreboard read:

Houston 76, Los Angeles 71.

The Lakers gathered around their bench as Del Harris prepared his instructions for the fourth quarter. Shaq dropped into his seat beside Kobe and pulled a towel over his head.

“Man, I’m getting tired of these motherfuckers.”

Kobe laughed and took another drink of water.

Shaq lowered the towel. “What?”

“Nothing.” Kobe handed him the bottle. “You got twelve more minutes in you?”

Shaq looked offended. “Man, I got twenty.”

Kobe grinned. “We might need ’em.”

Shaq stared at him for a second.

“Don’t even joke about that shit.”

Kobe laughed as the horn sounded for the start of the fourth quarter. Across the court, Drexler was already getting to his feet.

They had twelve minutes left.

And Kobe intended to make him work for every one of them.

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Houston went straight to Barkley. He caught the ball against Campbell, backed him toward the paint, and turned into a short jumper. Campbell got a hand up, but Barkley knocked it down anyway.

Kobe took the inbound and pushed upcourt before Houston could get organized. Drexler retreated with him, watching his hips instead of the ball. Kobe slowed near the three-point line, waited for Shaq to come up, then used the screen to create a little separation. Drexler recovered quickly, but not quickly enough.

Splash.

On another possession, Kobe pushed the ball up the middle, drew Drexler toward him, and fired a pass to Eddie on the wing. Eddie caught it in rhythm and knocked down the jumper before Elie could recover.

A few trips later, Kobe attacked again, this time drawing Hakeem away from Shaq before slipping the ball inside. Shaq caught it, took one step, and hammered it through with both hands.

“THAT’S WHAT THE FUCK I’M TALKING ABOUT!” Shaq roared.

With a little over eight minutes remaining, Houston still held a narrow lead. Kobe had started finding more room against Drexler.

Houston called a timeout a few possessions later, with the Lakers having trimmed the deficit to a single basket. Kobe walked toward the bench and grabbed a towel while Del Harris gathered the team around his clipboard.

Del Harris drew up two plays on his clipboard, reminding them to keep the ball moving and stop giving Houston second chances. The Lakers listened, grabbed one last drink of water, and headed back onto the court.

The next several minutes belonged to neither team. Shaq and Hakeem continued their battle inside, trading baskets and defensive stops. Hakeem caught Shaq leaning the wrong way and spun baseline for a layup. On the following possession, Shaq backed him down, turned over his shoulder, and dropped in a short hook of his own.

Barkley was just as difficult to deal with. He grabbed an offensive rebound over Campbell, drew a foul on the putback, and spent the next trip talking to the Lakers’ bench.

“Y’all got somebody else you wanna put on me?”

Shaq shouted back, “Man, shut your fat ass up!”

Barkley laughed. “Come get some, then!”

Kobe was still smiling when the ball came back his way. He used a screen from Shaq to force a switch, found himself matched against Maloney, and immediately attacked. Maloney retreated toward the paint, expecting Kobe to finish at the rim, but Kobe stopped short and kicked the ball to Eddie for an open jumper.

Houston answered with another basket from Drexler, and the Lakers came right back through Kobe. The lead changed hands twice more before both teams traded defensive stops.

With three minutes remaining, the scoreboard read 91–91.

Kobe wiped his hands against his shorts as he brought the ball up. Drexler waited near the three-point line, giving him enough space to discourage the drive without offering a clean jumper. Kobe called for Shaq, used the screen to turn toward the middle, and rose for three.

The shot hit the back rim.

Shaq fought Hakeem for the rebound, pulled it down with both hands, and went straight back up. Hakeem contested, and the whistle sounded as the ball bounced away.

Two free throws.

“Come on, Shaq,” Kobe said, holding out a hand. “Give me two.”

Shaq slapped his palm. “I got you.”

The first free throw bounced off the back rim and dropped through. The second came up short, and Hakeem secured the rebound.

Lakers 92, Rockets 91.

Houston went back to Barkley, who caught the ball against Campbell and backed him toward the paint. When Kobe drifted down to help, Barkley spotted Drexler waiting in the corner and fired the pass across the court.

Kobe turned and sprinted toward him, but he was already too late.

Splash.

Drexler backpedaled, holding three fingers in the air as the Houston crowd erupted.

Houston 94, Los Angeles 92.

Kobe took the inbound and pushed upcourt. Drexler met him near the arc, but Kobe attacked his right shoulder, forced him to turn, and used Shaq’s approaching screen to get into the lane. Hakeem stepped across to help, and Kobe floated the ball toward the rim.

Shaq caught it above the cylinder and slammed it through. Barkley had rotated late and made contact as Shaq went up.

The whistle blew.

“AND ONE!” Shaq shouted, pounding his chest.

Barkley waved him off. “Ain’t no And One if you can’t make your free throws.”

Shaq walked to the line, still grinning. Kobe stood near the top of the key, watching as he bent his knees and released. The ball hit the rim, bounced twice, and dropped through.

“THREE POINT PLAY, BABY!” Shaq shouted, raising both arms.

Kobe laughed. “About damn time!”

Lakers 95, Rockets 94.

Houston called a timeout, and Shaq caught Kobe around the shoulders as they headed toward the bench.

“You see that shit?”

“I saw it.”

“That was clutch!”

Kobe couldn’t help but laugh.

With a little over a minute remaining, Houston immediately went back to Barkley. He caught the ball against Campbell, backed him toward the paint, and turned into a short jumper. Campbell stayed with him and forced the miss, but Barkley followed his own shot, fought through two Lakers for the rebound, and went back up.

This time, Campbell caught him across the arm.

Barkley walked to the line, shaking his head. “Y’all making me work too damn hard.”

Shaq stood along the lane, hands on his hips. “Maybe if you lost some weight—”

“Man, shut up.”

Kobe grinned as Barkley knocked down both free throws.

Houston 96, Los Angeles 95.

Kobe glanced at the clock as he brought the ball up. Drexler picked him up near half court, staying close enough to challenge the jumper without letting him turn the corner. Kobe called Eddie toward him, then waved him away as Shaq moved toward the high post.

Drexler shifted to anticipate the screen, and Kobe used that moment to attack the other direction. He got a step, stopped near the elbow, and rose for the jumper before Hakeem could help.

The ball hit the back rim, bounced against the front, and dropped through.

Lakers 97, Rockets 96.

Forty seconds remained.

Houston took its time bringing the ball up. Maloney crossed half court, waited for Barkley to clear toward the weak side, then delivered the entry pass to Hakeem.

Shaq settled into his stance as Hakeem backed him down twice. He gave a shoulder fake toward the middle, but Shaq didn’t bite. Another fake, and still nothing. Then Hakeem spun baseline, leaned away from Shaq’s outstretched arm, and released a fading jumper from twelve feet.

Kobe watched from the weak side as the ball kissed the backboard and dropped through.

Houston 98, Los Angeles 97.

The Summit erupted, and Del Harris immediately called a timeout.

Twenty-one seconds remained.

Kobe walked toward the bench, already looking at the clock above the basket. Houston had defended him well all night, and Drexler had made almost every possession difficult. But over the last several minutes, Kobe had noticed the veteran giving him a little more room whenever Shaq came up to screen, protecting against the drive rather than fighting all the way over.

Del gathered the team around his clipboard. “We’ve got twenty-one seconds. No need to rush. Kobe, you take it. Shaq, come up and set the screen. If they switch, we’ve got the mismatch. If Hakeem helps, find the roll.”

Kobe nodded.

“And if they give you the shot,” Del added, “take it.”

Shaq leaned toward Kobe. “You better make this shit.”

Drexler crouched into his stance and smiled.

Kobe bounced the ball once and smiled back.

It’s Mamba time.