And while Mitch Kupchak bluffs his way through media montages on “foreseen” megadeals on the “near” horizon, the league moves on without Hollyweird and the boy wonder, Bryant.

Last season, clearly his worst in years, Bryant looked human.

His 25.0 points per game were impressive enough to encourage the kingdom to think he’s got another two or three years in the tank. But his paltry 33.2 minutes per game were his lowest since his sophomore season, begging whether or not the heir apparent’s brittle knees can withstand another 164 to 246.

In a recent interview at the Lakers media day, the brash guard admitted his disappointments with the team’s direction. A day or two since the sudden brush off of reigning sixth man of the year, Lamar Odom to Dallas, Bryant clamored, “I don’t like it.”

He continued with a small jab to Kupchak, acknowledging Odom’s worth: “He played lights out. I don’t understand the criticism of reality shows and this, that and the other. I don’t get it. I don’t understand that. He had his best season last season, clearly wasn’t a distraction, and he played his ass off. I don’t get where that comes from.”

And while media members continued to push Bryant in a defensive corner in regards to the sometimes aloof and silly minded forward, Kobe shot back, ” Now I’m just getting pissed off.”

//www.youtube.com/watch?v=XmYKB5S3nlE

And so should you.

If you find yourself in the thrust of Laker’ fandom, get really pissed off. Lose the admiration and begin your own occupy Staples movement, calling for the heads of upper management. Because either Jerry Buss is losing his mind, or Mitch Kupchak is the modern day Brutus, aiming to ax Bryant’s career into oblivion.

Without Odom you can kiss a shot at Dwight Howard or Chris Paul goodbye.

Odom’s 14 points and 11 rebounds last season off the bench were his cleanest numbers in his decade-long career. And for the first time the do-it-all swing man played with passion on both sides of the ball.

He seemed to be clicking. His becoming attitude was a motivator for the young Andrew Bynum, whose burgeoning attitude and work ethic are constantly in question.

Without Lamar Odom, the Lakers lack that invaluable one-of-a-kind trade chip to tack on the back end of a blockbuster trade with either Pau Gasol or Andrew Bynum. And now, as the team collects their paltry 2nd round draft choice and $8.9 million chunk of change in exchange for Odom, the rest of the league moves proactively forward.

Currently, talks for CP3 have re-landed in Los Angeles, this time with the Clippers. Dwight Howard has turned his attentions back onto a New Jersey- Orlando deal. Even former spark plug Shannon Brown opted for the sunny hot gunning country of Phoenix, Arizona.

Back on the Odom deal, Kobe smarted, “I’m sure Mark Cuban isn’t nixing that trade,” with his usual head nod.

The deal to get rid of Odom was a trade that ultimately made the Lakers worse, stunted their growth in the near future and strengthened the Mavericks with “the best forward trio in the league,” according to Mavs head coach Rick Carlisle.

It makes you wonder what this season will look like.

Remember, it was just four days ago that Pau Gasol’s name was typed out in a three-way deal sending him to Houston.

Whether or not the soft-tempered Spaniard can bounce back is yet to be seen as well. “This is a league that’s becoming more of a business than a sport unfortunately,” Gasol said shyly in a camera interview (below). His beard and baby face averting the obvious insecurity: Where is this team heading?

For Kobe Bryant it is quickly moving backwards while everyone else, including past teammate Lamar Odom, move at least step or two in a positive direction.

//www.youtube.com/watch?v=WqWDrZbMg8E

They do protest: to one another. Actually they argue. Public displays of discontent and anger in Cuba are typically something that brings the attention of the police, Cuba being one of the last bastions of totalitarian Communism after all.

A few things are different about these protests and arguments. For one, the men are arguing about baseball. And as can only happen in places like Cuba and China, arguing on the street requires a government-issued card. The card that each of the men hold, as described in this episode of the Travel Channel’s “No Reservations,” gives them the right to congregate and argue about the sport they love.

______________________________________________

A coworker of mine described the episode to me today. Since I don’t watch the Travel Channel very often and she isn’t exactly glued to ESPN, I was grateful for the “lead.”

Lucky for me, the Travel Channel likes to replay shows. On Monday night, they played a “No Reservations” marathon and I got to see the show.

As the show rolls along — and it’s a really good show if you like food and travel — it’s clear that there is a disconnect between the society that tourists are shown and the normal, everyday life of a Cuban. The discussion routinely returns to how fresh fruit and vegetables are becoming more readily available. It’s 2011 and the discussion in Cuba isn’t centered on how to cook the food, but simply on the fact that there is more food now then there used to be.

The gentlemen in the park and the game of baseball are featured prominently for at least a pair of segments in the show. The arguments and discussions are rich with knowledge of both Major League Baseball and the Cuban National League. The guys are so passionate that they look like they might be the Cuban version of Fansmanship.

While their country officially calls players like Orlando Hernandez, Livan Hernandez, and Aroldis Chapman traitors, the fans in the park know better. To them, players like these are still heroes.

Through the lens of sports, a real humanity is found behind the Communist curtain in Cuba. The fire in the eyes of a Cuban baseball fan is the same as that of a British soccer fan and surely equal to a fan of the major three sports in the United States.

And while I’m glad we don’t have to be “card carrying fans” in order to legally congregate in a park to talk baseball, maybe we should think about doing so more often. Media is great for getting information quickly, but grabbing a cold beverage and sitting in the sun while talking sports is something we could all use a little more of.

Perhaps we all could use some unplugged dialog about current issues through the lens of my favorite sport more often. As fun as things like sports talk radio can be, maybe the Cubans are on to something.

Now if only this Cuban would buy my favorite baseball team… .

Hey, a kid can dream, right?

When Dallas clinched their NBA Finals series against the Miami Heat, fans and media began to bring up Cuban’s name again in relation to the dumpster fire that is currently the Dodgers’ ownership. On television, radio, and across Internet blogs, Dodger fans are practically begging Cuban to be ready if and when the Dodgers are taken over by Major League Baseball and, God willing, sold.

Maybe the most direct plea to Cuban has been through a website titled Mark Cuban Save the Dodgers, created by Los Angeles native and West Covina resident Roger Arrieta. A web designer who started MarkCubanSaveTheDodgers.com, Arrieta created the site two months ago. During the past week, he says, hits on the site have grown exponentially. On Tuesday, there were 800 “likes” on Facebook and as of Thursday night, there were about 1,250.

“My initial thought was ‘save the Dodgers’ as a general idea,” said Arrieta. “Later on, Mark Cuban came to mind. He’s had ten years of success [in Dallas] and he is someone with instant recognition.”

Arrieta’s site features pictures of Cuban with Dodgers gear on, along with images of past Dodger greatness like Sandy Koufax, Fernando Valenzuela, and Kirk Gibson. His Dodgers Fansmanship goes back to the 70’s and 80’s, and his goal is to help encourage an owner like Cuban to take the reins of the Dodgers, an organization clearly in turmoil.

Being a die-hard Lakers fan doesn’t give him any pause either, despite Cuban’s Mavs knocking the Lakers out of the NBA Playoffs this season.

“It doesn’t deter me,” said Arrieta. A lot of people can’t get over that, but it’s simple. You have to look at what [Cuban] has done. Show me a Dodger fan who wouldn’t want that same success for the Dodgers.”

HOW MANY OTHER TEAMS HAVEN’T MADE THE WORLD SERIES SINCE 1988?

Arrieta discusses Cuban’s potential ownership like it’s a done deal already.

“He’s going to do everything to make the team better,” he said.

Having been to many games at Chavez Ravine this year, Arrieta has definitely noticed a difference.

“There are so many less fans this year. It’s crazy,” he said. “It’s not even packed on bobblehead night.”

He has also noticed the increased police presence and it makes him (like Fansmanship) sad that the additional security is needed.

For Arrieta and most Dodgers fans, a failure by current ownership to act at crucial times is an unforgivable offense.

“The Dodgers were never even in the discussion for Cliff Lee or Halladay. They didn’t build on the LCS. They didn’t add to the roster,” he said. His voice a combination of disgust and sadness. “Even if it took [Cuban] 10 years like the Mavs, we haven’t had a championship in 25 years.”

Actually the number is 22, but the point is well taken.

SAN LUIS OBISPO – BLACK OR BLUE?

For him, and so many other Dodgers fans, the McCourt reign has been untenable.

“He said that even if he wasn’t in financial trouble, he’d still be doing the same thing. That’s not acceptable.”

The lack of non-Manny-related big splashes, a penchant for spending money inappropriately and then blaming everyone but himself, and an ego the size of Los Angeles have all marked the McCourt era. For the sake of Arrieta, this writer, and Dodgers fans everywhere, here’s hoping for an end to this situation sooner than later.

WHAT’S REALLY GOING ON AT DODGER STADIUM?

Things may have to get uglier before they can get better.

The picture of Mark Cuban on Arrieta’s website sure looks pretty right about now…

owen@fansmanship.com

Watching Sir’ Dirk diggler his way between double teams then drop the off-foot fade away, with feathered bangs haunting his brow is like hot chocolate with a bust of hand-whipped cream lapping at the tongue…sizzle sizzle and more busty sizzle.

My nizzle.

Fans swore off of Dirk after his Mavs famous meltdown in 06′ and 07′; said he was overrated, couldn’t hit the big shot, seven feet but soft as butter, a lanky vanilla–sweet but melts with contact.

Well not so fast.

In the meantime Nowitski has collected an MVP, eclipsed twenty thousand career points,and freeze framed his Shaggy Doobie Do face in the list of all-time greats. Dirk’s freakazoid bar, with his insante giftedness to dribble like a point, hit the fade away like a guard, rebound as a forward and finish inside is Lady Gaga unparalleled.

Did I just say Lady Gaga unparalleled?  I did because Dirk is the the greatest powerforward to ever play this game.

Yes you heard me. My condolences to Timmy Duncan, but today I am writing with a blasphemous resignation to the truth of things. I have post stamped this through the mailman, and asked his caddy Sir Charles, to verify its arrival. Dirk is not only the greatest powerforward, but when it comes to closers is listed as: MJ….Bird…..West…..Kobe….Dirk.

Monday’s performance was one of the greatest this league has ever seen. Dropping 48 on OKC in game one of the Western Conference Finals, he did it in Gaga fashion: 12-15 shooting, 24-24 from the free throw line, hitting clutch jumpers late to close out the Thunder in the fourth quarter. Setting the tone from the get go, Dirk started 4-4 with the Mavs first ten points, and twenty in the first half. It was obvious  that this Sir’ Dirk is no longer living under the devils of his past.

OKC looked stupefied in his wakes and had no answer for him all evening, throwing seven different defenders his way including: former Defensive Player of the Year Thabo Sefalosha, and block king Serge Ibaka. His unguardable abilities and size caused former NBA coach turned ESPN TV personality Jeff Van Gundy, to continualy pose the X and O question, “How do you stop that?” His sidekick, former point guard Mark Jackson returned, “You got to close the air space.”

Air space?

This is not about some make believe air space, this is about fate. As much as I love the twenty-three year old Durant–a two time scoring champ, and gifted 6’10 wingman with the ability to hit the three, take you off dribble, and get up and finish, I am aware that his moment has not arrived yet.

It was obvious Monday who the better team is. This is not your usual lay-down and die Dallas Mavs team who’ve become more of a hard-nosed defensive squad with their yet classic art of tres droplet supremes. Key moments on Monday included: Barrea sparking Dallas with twelve straight points in the third, and Jason Kidd bringing stability at point when Darantula made it a game scoring Jasseven of his teams ten points in a 10-0 run in the fourth to pull to within five with 3:34 to play. Like a black widow spider dangling from a single thread, only to lose her luscious prey a few inches from her triangular grasp, that is as close as things would get. This year there is no hesitation from the Mavs–a collective of cast-aways, bridging their way to title ascension.

And with a German juggernaut like Dirk taking them there, it bids the question, “will this finally be their year?”

The man sobbing at the front looks like GW with two lazy eyes and elfish shaped ears. Woman to the left: Palin with a mustache. We are all self confessed a-hole’s in need of rose colored glasses.

Honestly, I hate crowds, OC tans, mini foo foo dogs (side note: I was forcibly led to love one name Mindy, a “Morkie”. And over time this petite Falcore looking ragamuffin has worn on me with her shag cuteness and constant barrage of licks.) and think the tea party was written by the deaf and blind.

But I learned a good lesson this last Friday at the nearby Judaic Worship and Cultural Center, listening to Holocaust survivor Helena Weinrauch speak about her horrendous experience with calm, insight, honesty, and yet still, an appreciation for humanity. Read her story here.

It is evident, Sir’ Paul McCartney and Lennon were prophetically clear and righteously on to something, when they wrote their harpischord ballad, “all you need is love.”

Yes the intangible of love–a boundless entity without shape or size. The fleck of feeling that with it’s heart-like tempo, can turn a grainy sun scorched and expression-less skyline, to a swirling majesty; an art painting of the surreal; a smeary energetic dream; a dozen wind waifed butterflies bobbing like yo-yo’s over a fist of emerald grass.

The older I get, now approaching a pre-midlife crisis at twenty-nine, seven months and counting, I come into agreement with love and its power to transform the lens in which I view things. The American culture is built on a white and black paradigm of belief structure. Right or wrong dominate our upbringings. But they now lilt in the exposure generations x, y, and z have had with the riverine nature of relativity. Nothing is black, nothing is white. Grey is the chic’ fashion forward.  

And i’m wearing it: the cloth of Love. Not guns, racism, greed, but love.

The bond shared between my cousin and I as we shoot text back and forth in regards to Kobe Bryant and the Lakers. He is a believer, and I, a cynical realist jab through stereophonic air waves.

Laker hater. You just hate it when the Lakers win–Cousin Chad

No! I don’tare when the Lakers win. I am not a Laker hater because Pau saved Kobe’s career. If that makes me a Laker hater, than so be it.–Me

The seam that ties together unity, bonds the sinner to the saint, christens society with an infatuate need for universal brother and sisterhood, is love.

I think Kobe Bryant is a phenomenal player.

And an un-phenomenal person.

Do I wish him any harm? Absolutely not. Is losing harmful? No. How about jumping a car, only to clip your feet, flip in a circle, land on your back, and get paralyzed? Is that harmful?

I love him.

God that’s gross.

So I try like this, re-enacting the famous scene in Jerry Maguire when I, Renee Zelweger, confess my need for Kobe, Tom Cruise.

After Kobe’s deep serenading poem of appreciation, I pause. My eyes crystal over, and my lower lip begins to twitch erratically (which means love is overwhelming my feminine bosom) and I whisper, “you had me at hello.”

It is the fakest job done in Hollyweird. I sound like a mumbling Vin Diesel.

Which is why you met me at A-hole’s Anonymous in the first place. I want to get over this thing.

Step one) Admit your are an a-hole. Check. Step two) Make a mends with those whom you’ve harmed. Che…..ck.

When you found me, I was wallowing in another Laker grind it out victory. No matter how cutely Chris Paul sliced and diced the Laker defense, Kobe found ways to win with his classicaly killer instinct. This according to Seahawks running back Marshawn Lynch, is going into beas’ mo’. Which if translated into correct English, means beast mode.

I am giving up on the a-hole way of living. It is cold hearted and cruel. The very man I love to see lose, got swept by a Mark Cuban Mavs team built from the ground up.

But it did not make me feel any better.

This time I languished in my childish banter. I am turning over a new leaf. I care about sports, but obviously not enough any longer.

From this day forward you will never (never say never) hear another anti-Kobe statement from me. In fact mark this down: dude is top fifteen of all-time. No, make that twelve.

I need to get back to church: drink wine and fill myself with the charity of their crackers. Oops, scratch that.