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Not Much Chance of West Exit Now

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Sunday, Jerry West was out of here.

That was the day his NBC interview aired, when he was asked how much longer he’d be around, and he answered, “Not much. . . . Not much. . . . Not much.”

Two days later, West was asked if he meant to leave the impression he was leaving.

“At that point in time . . . “ he began.

Precisely.

At that point in time, the Lakers hadn’t yet beaten the Rockets in a dramatic Game 1, not to mention what they did to them in Game 2.

Now West is feeling much better about things and, once again, the anguish and torment seem worth it.

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Of course, that’s only for the moment. If West does stay--and he probably will--it will probably only be after a harrowing process, during which he’ll have been in and out the door emotionally another 12 times.

If you’re a Laker fan, you should be burning incense before his silhouette on the NBA logo, because, however rosy things look, they’re young and rambunctious and need lots of direction.

In the power vacuum, otherwise known as the Lakers’ 1999 season, their 26-year-old center, Shaquille O’Neal, often seemed to be trying to reconfigure the franchise single-handedly, from his perspective on the low box.

It’s OK for Shaq to have opinions, it shows he cares, but when they take on the weight of imperial decrees, you have a problem, also known as the Lakers’ 1999 season. It would have been nice if West had been emotionally available to have a chat with O’Neal, who reveres him, but Jerry was out quelling his own demons.

Hence West’s get-together with the local press Tuesday, in what we might call his I-Am-Not-A-Ghost announcement.

It was a long time between sit-downs. Having foreseen the threat posed by Dennis Rodman to the prevailing harmony, West was overmatched by the actual Dennis Experience. For years, Jerry suffered all the torments of hell--while things were great. All of a sudden, things weren’t merely bad, but embarrassing.

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So West faded into the mist, watching games from home on TV. He probably resigned 1,000 times during that time--to confidantes--but he never made it official.

Said one friend during West’s blue period: “I couldn’t talk to him long. It was too depressing.”

Insiders said West would leave for a job with the local NFL expansion team. West is never short of options. He’s friendly with a lot of big guys like Mike Ovitz, who are always pitching projects in which they’ll furnish the money and Jerry will run the team.

Of course, he already gets $1 million-plus for his dream/nightmare job, with the promise of going to $3.5 million in July, if only he can hang on that long.

Bottom line: How is this adored figure, who has never had a bad word written about him but thinks he has been pilloried, going to walk away, in the sure knowledge he will be hammered for walking away before the job is done?

And if the Lakers win a title this season, how is he going to walk out on that?

Mistakes and all, West has done a phenomenal job, rebuilding an ‘80s dynasty into a ‘90s elite team. If you think it’s easy, check and see how close the other ‘80s powers--the Celtics, 76ers and Pistons--are.

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Of course, turning the talented young Lakers into champions, or even finalists, has been tricky, and there were a bunch of things West might have done better, such as confront Jerry Buss over Rodman, or remember that trading for Glen Rice assumed a stable situation at power forward, when Rodman was suggesting otherwise nightly.

Nevertheless, if anyone can finish this job, it’s West--but it has to be the real Jerry West, fully engaged, not this guy wandering the halls like Hamlet, asking “To be or not to be?”

Tuesday, even before the Lakers began their destruction of the Rockets, West was looking revived, going on and on in that boyish way of his about what a thrill it was to play at his time of year (“going to the locker room, the day of the game . . . getting here before the game, it’s like you couldn’t wait to get here. . . . It’s incredible how you feel.”)

For the moment, the world was new again and Mr. Clutch was having fun.

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