Playoffs no longer beckon to Lakers; it’s more like a reckoning

Fear and self-loathing in Lakerdom. . . .

Overcoming their lack of urgency, the defending champions flip the switch, er, tip it off Sunday against Oklahoma City with urgency coming out of their ears.

That should do it, assuming, of course, the Lakers can still play.

It has been so long since they did, the big question isn’t about the young Thunder but the famous Lakers.

It really is all about them, as they have long thought it was.

It used to be a lot more reassuring, however. Now the Lakers are as apprehensive as their fans proposing trades and lineup changes on talk radio.

There was a weird vibe last week at the Lakers facility, otherwise known as the NBA’s Happiest Place on Earth.

The people looking at the Oklahoma City scouting report were wide-eyed at how long, athletic and potentially devastating the young Thunder players could be.

Lakers medical staffers worried about all the chronic injuries they have just gotten over, they hope.

The players’ mood was sober concern. The last two postseasons, they looked like they were embarking on a luxury cruise, offering champagne toasts while the media and their fans threw flowers and streamers.

“Concern” is a code word among professional athletes, who, if asked, won’t acknowledge having ever been “scared.”

Actually, the Lakers are scared witless.

Whatever they feel, it never came up this early in the previous two lighthearted seasons, which had only intermittent flashes of fear, er, concern.

They went from blithe confidence in the 2008 Finals, joking about Paul Pierce’s wheelchair ride after losing Game 1, to “what happened?” after the Celtics came from 24 points down to win Game 4, to “we learned an important lesson” after their humiliation in Game 6.

They never forgot it . . . until no-showing in Game 4 against Houston, which had just lost Yao Ming, and were almost carried out of last spring’s second-round series feet first.

That REALLY taught them a lesson, which they remembered the rest of the postseason, with Kobe Bryant playing Darth Vader with a hair-trigger light saber.

What do you know?

Another season, another reason to wonder how the same process comes out this time.

If the Lakers go back to being the Lakers — guess the operative word — this is actually as good a matchup as they could hope for.

Not that there are good matchups when the No. 8 team wins 50 games with the next great player and a swarming defense that’s No. 1 in blocks — without a player in the top 25 — and No. 8 in steals.

Even losing four of its last six, the Thunder improved by 27 wins, 15 fewer than the record, but one of the most amazing NBA seasons ever.

The 2007-08 Celtics went from 24 wins to 66 . . . after adding Kevin Garnett and Ray Allen.

No. 2 San Antonio went from 21 to 56 in 1989-90, after the arrival of David Robinson.

No. 3 Boston went from 29 to 61 in 1979-80, after the arrival of Larry Bird.

The Thunder went from a 2-24 start last season, to a 21-25 finish, to a 13-14 start this season, to a 37-18 finish, adding James Harden and Serge Ibaka.

Nevertheless, the Thunder lacks not only experience, but depth, balance and size, with power forwards at center against the Lakers 7-footers.

Not that the Lakers don’t have their own issues:

—Is Kobe still Kobe?

Wow, when was he ever a variable?

Let’s just say his days of playing with a broken finger should be over. I’m not a doctor, but I’d guess getting it whacked over and over didn’t help the healing process.

Yes, he’s older and has lost elevation, but he didn’t just start aging or losing elevation.

When healthy and in rhythm, he’s still capable of being Kobe, or in other words, winning 80% of their close games.

It has just been a while.

—Is Andrew Bynum back?

Well, he’s playing. How soon he gets back into it, after barely getting back into it at all last spring, is the question.

—Outside shooting.

As in, they stink.

Ron Artest, who’s hot and cold, made 39.5% of his three-point attempts before the All-Star break, but 28.3% afterward.

A year ago, Trevor Ariza made 46% in the playoffs.

At least nothing else could go wrong.

Could it?

There was that plan by Derek Fisher and Sasha Vujacic for everyone to grow beards in a show of camaraderie.

“My teammate — I won’t say any names, I’ll just say No. 18 — we made a pact that we were going to grow the beards out for the playoffs and see how many guys we could recruit in,” Fisher said.

“And lo and behold, two days into it, he shaved.”

Some seasons are like that, which is why the Lakers yearned for this day.

They hope.

mark.heisler@latimes.com