FACING A DECISION

The final seconds of another championship series game.

The Lakers again are in trouble.

Time for another 60-foot desperation shot.

Not by Jerry West.

But for Jerry West.

The 1970 heroics of Mr. Clutch need to be re-created in the next couple of weeks by Mr. Carefree.

Jerry Buss needs to break free from his partying posse--going strong since June 19, we’re guessing--long enough to do one more thing for his legacy and for Los Angeles.

He needs to keep one of the city’s most enduring leaders in a place where the city can still behold him.

He needs to make sure his most valuable player stays where he belongs, so our sports pulse can stay where it belongs.

He needs to talk Jerry West out of retiring.

A 60-foot shot, at least.

Seemingly every summer for the last four decades, the emotional West has told friends he was finished.

But recently, for the first time, they are believing him.

The usual angst is coated in finality. The normal weariness has new weight.

“This time, it’s for real,” his friends say, over and over again.

They thought he would make the announcement before he left Friday on an Alaskan fishing trip.

But as of Tuesday, West was still fishing and nothing was official.

The clock still flickers.

A desperation shot, at minimum.

Buss needs to throw it up there anyway. Because there is a way it can go in.

West can be convinced to stay.

This stuff about being worried about his health? It’s all about mental health.

West’s heart surely isn’t beating any faster than when he tortured himself during every game as a player. It’s his mind that’s racing out of control.

He’s worried that he has sweated all these years for something that is suddenly no longer his.

Phil Jackson is increasingly, and deservedly, making more personnel decisions. Buss’ children creep ever closer to ownership. And where does that leave Jerry West?

Feeling more than 60 feet away, that’s for sure.

Buss needs to preface his buzzer-beating heave with a close-range handshake.

He needs to offer reassurances that, even in the new Phillennium, these are still Jerry West’s Lakers.

He could first do this by doing what owners in Miami and Washington have done for their star talent.

He could reward the man who built this franchise into what is at least a $400-million property, or more than four times Buss’ original investment.

He could give West a piece of it.

Just like Pat Riley was given a piece of the Miami Heat and Michael Jordan was essentially given a piece of the Washington Wizards.

It wouldn’t have to be a big piece, not even as big as the 4.9% that Magic Johnson purchased.

But it would be enough to let West know that in building six world championship teams here, he has been not only a caretaker, but an occupant.

It will tell West something that friends say he desperately needs to hear.

This would also let West know that when Buss passes the team to his children--inheritance tax willing--West would not be tossed aside.

West worries about things like this.

He sees the increasing role being played in Laker decisions by Buss’ son Jim. He notices Johnny running the WNBA’s Sparks (and running them into the ground despite great talent).

Perhaps more than anything, he notices daughter Jeanie dating Phil Jackson.

Considering he was not thrilled when Jeanie dated Dennis Rodman last year, what must he be thinking now?

Let’s see . . . the influential coach dating one of the team’s vice presidents and heiresses to the throne . . . Will I still be in charge of trades, or just dinner reservations?

Those who just flew into town might think, with Jackson around, who needs an aging Jerry West anyway? West built this latest team, but it didn’t win a title until Jackson ran it, right?

This might be true if Phil Jackson were going to stick around for the next 20 years. But here’s guessing he won’t even last the entire five years of his contract.

Jackson, a small-town sort who bores easily, could be heading back to Montana after another championship or two.

West, 62 now, would still be young enough to be needed more than ever.

And make no mistake. Despite the fact that he doesn’t attend big games because of his nerves, West has been as important to the Lakers as Jordan once was to the Chicago Bulls . . . for about three times as long.

West not only built those title teams but infused them with his spirit.

For all their flash, those Showtime Lakers won with his heart.

For all their youthful hype, the current Lakers were weaned on West’s old-fashioned resilience.

Shaquille O’Neal loves him. Kobe Bryant swears by him. West still talks to them when nobody is looking. He criticizes them in ways that few would dare criticize.

“He’s like my second father,” O’Neal says.

“He’s the reason I want to stay here,” Bryant says.

In this space last summer, we pleaded for Jerry Buss to spend the millions it took to hire Phil Jackson.

He did, and Jackson brought this city a championship, and now it seems almost unfair to ask Buss to do more.

Remember, Buss has already made one big shot in this arena, keeping West from leaving two years ago with a new deal that pays him $3.5 million a season, far above most other NBA executives who do not coach.

But that was before the new riches of Staples Center, of the post-Jordan NBA, of a current championship that could lead to three or four more.

This isn’t about a man who works for the Lakers.

This is about a man who defines them.

Jerry Buss knows this. The last important shot in a season filled with them will be his.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at his e-mail address: bill.plaschke@latimes.com.