Na-Na in La-La Means Bye Bye

Irving Thomas is available. He hasn’t played a minute. Tony Smith is available. He’s played two minutes. Mike Dunleavy has two days to dig up somebody who wants to play some basketball. If he doesn’t, the Lakers can kiss this season goodby, because these Chicagoans are about ready to sing the Na-Na song in La-La Land.

You know the one. All the Chicago sports teams do it. Whenever their fans sense the kill, they sing that song that goes: “Na na na na/na na na na/hey hey hey/goodby!” It’s the ultimate gotcha song, and the Chicago Bulls might be singing it inside their locker room Wednesday night.

Dunleavy looked at his lineup Sunday and notified every Laker in it that he was getting fed up, that he was searching for “five people who want to play,” that if necessary, he would give the hook to every gold jersey on the floor. On his bench, sadly, was little or no help--including Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, who had no business being there, it being a violation of NBA regulations to seat a non-rostered guest on the bench.

This squad of Dunleavy’s is suddenly in such disarray from A to Z that:

(a) Vlade Divac is L.A.’s leading scorer in the NBA finals.

(b) Byron Scott went more than 100 minutes without a basket.

(c) Sam Perkins sank one of 15 shots Sunday.

(d) James Worthy is averaging three rebounds a game.

(e) Magic Johnson has fewer points than Michael Jordan, fewer rebounds, fewer blocks, fewer assists and more turnovers.

(f) Terry Teagle has made three shots in four games.

(g) In four games, Laker substitutes have one assist.

(h) Worthy and Scott are in pain.

And so on, and so on, and so on, until one begins to wonder if the Lakers are too old, or too cold, or too pooped, or too understaffed, or too overmatched, or simply unlucky. Because this very same team that played so splendidly against Houston, Golden State and Portland as well as in the opening game at Chicago has transformed into a short-handed team lacking backcourt players and confidence.

Even Earvin Johnson, eternally optimistic Earvin Johnson, is doubly negative about what’s happening to his team, saying: “Nobody can’t stop nobody from doing nothin’.” Translation: The Lakers are being run right out of their own arena, in general by every Bull bouncing a ball and in particular by the bald avenger, Air Jordan, who is outplaying them even with holes in his shoes.

“When he’s going great and they’re going great,” Magic said of Michael and the Bulls, “they’re unbeatable.”

Unbeatable. What a mouthful from Magic Johnson. But, to be a little doubly negative here ourselves, Magic is nothing if not candid. He has eyes. He can see what the Bulls are doing, how they are beating the Lakers to every loose ball, how Horace Grant is “having the series of his life,” as Magic observed, or how John Paxson is doing the very thing that Byron Scott is not doing--keeping the other team honest from outside, with long-distance shots that remove some of the pressure from the team’s superstar.

Paxson plays so far from the basket that after 126 minutes against the Lakers he has not yet attempted one free throw. But he has 18 more baskets than Scott.

The situation is so desperate that, once again, Sam Perkins took more three-point shots than the rest of the Lakers combined. When they were behind and Dunleavy was annoyed with them, the coach resisted yanking his starters because the Lakers promptly began rallying. Then Perkins aimed three three-pointers in the second half, missing them all.

Was that OK with the coaches?

“I guess it’s OK,” Laker assistant Randy Pfund said. “Because if Sam hadn’t made that one in Game 1, I think we all know where we’d be right now.”

On summer vacation, is where. As it happens, however, the team has at least one more engagement ahead of it, one that might prolong either the series or the agony, depending on one’s viewpoint. And while the Lakers continue to talk a good game, claiming they still have a chance in this thing, Dunleavy must have half a mind to apply for Pat Riley’s job vacancy at NBC.

It wasn’t supposed to work this way. When this basketball series drifted west to the coast, it seemed destined to be party time, California style, for the men who run the Lakers. Well, for Jerry the owner and Jerry the general manager, everything is definitely looking up--except we are referring to Reinsdorf and Krause, not Buss and West.

That song Chicagoans sing is called “Kiss Her Goodby,” an old bubblegum rock ‘n’ roll thing from the ‘70s, but most people just call it the Na-Na song. It would be awful enough for the Lakers to have to hear it. It would be a hell of a lot worse to have to hear it in their own joint.