There’s Nothing to Fear but Fear of Themselves

Be afraid, be very afraid: The Lakers aren’t merely one-hit wonders any more, now they have their own era.

And an incredible era it has been, short as it is, two titles in two seasons with barely a challenge from anyone, except, of course, themselves.

In 2000, they cake-walked through the season, carried the Sacramento Kings to a Game 5, had one genuine moment of fear, trailing the Portland Trail Blazers by 15 in the fourth quarter of Game 7 of the Western finals and cruising in from there.

This season, they punted the first five months, got it together in April and posted the greatest postseason record (15-1) ever.

Now the question is, if a five-month snit between Shaquille O’Neal and Kobe Bryant isn’t enough to derail them, what is? If they could go through everything they went through and still win going away, when aren’t they going to win?

And who is there to challenge them?

No one has lately. The San Antonio Spurs remain the most viable threat, but they won’t get much respect for a while, as people remember their swoon in the Western finals.

Nevertheless, the Spurs have the requisite tall players and athletes. They’re going to have to gear way up to reach the Lakers’ level, so Derek Anderson and Antonio Daniels have to keep getting better.

Of course, the Lakers might get better themselves. O’Neal and Bryant played at levels neither had reached before and they’re only 29 and 22. The Lakers looked dangerously thin early, got the minimum off their bench but developed two solid starters, Rick Fox and Derek Fisher, late.

The East will get better (how could it not?), but probably not better enough. Alonzo Mourning should be back in Miami, but Pat Riley has moves to make, with Tim Hardaway and Anthony Mason ticketed to ride, for starters.

Grant Hill will be back in Orlando, but even if the Magic gets the big man it wants, Antonio Davis, he’s an Eastern center--that is to say, only as big as a Western power forward--who would be overmatched by Tim Duncan, to say nothing of O’Neal.

The 76ers may be back, but that would require another year of peace between Coach Larry Brown and Allen Iverson, and one was an upset.

Nevertheless, the 76ers ended two years of yawners by winning Game 1 and contesting the next two, spiking TV ratings so dramatically, media buyer Jon Mandel told USA Today’s Rudy Martzke, “You could say [Commissioner] David Stern sold his soul to the devils for a ratings increase right before the negotiations [for a new network contract].”

Unfortunately for the league, the Lakers won Games 2-3 and romped in 4-5, turning the David-Goliath tale on its head, driving the little shepherd boy into the ground like a tent peg.

Brown gave it a shot, gambling he could contain O’Neal man-to-man, keeping a defender at home on Bryant and giving the supporting cast a chance to gag.

It worked, briefly. Fisher went 0 for 4 in Game 1 and struggled in Game 2, before making two late three-pointers, turning the tide, personally and collectively.

The 76ers had one last chance, trailing by one at the end of Game 3 after O’Neal fouled out, but Bryant made a running 10-footer and Robert (Wake Me in the Finals) Horry dropped a three on them. After that, the series became the mismatch everyone had expected.

The centerpiece, of course, was at center, where Phil Jackson set out to punish the 76ers for daring to single-cover his Diesel. O’Neal, cleverly and brutally, kept tucking his elbows in tight, which made it legal, spinning into Dikembe Mutombo and blasting the poor guy elbows over kneecaps.

At first, Mutombo sneered at suggestions he should fear Shaq (“He is not a monster or a tank where he will destroy you, shoot you or kill you, he’s a human being.”) By the end, however, Deke had stars and birds twirling around his head and was no longer insisting on that “human” part.

Said Mutombo before Game 5: “He’s a monster, man.”

The 76ers actually became more cheerful as hope gave way to resignation, but the city, which had been on a six-week high, took it hard.

“You invest your money--hard-earned, etc.--in this team,” wrote the Philadelphia Daily News’ Rich Hofmann. “More important, in this particular 76ers team, you invest your heart, something rarely pledged in this city to a sports team. They will write about this team and this Philadelphia time in marketing textbooks and in social histories some day.

“You have been paid back a dozen times over and you know it implicitly. You know it every time you rub the sleep out of your eyes after another late-night journey into the impossible. . . .

“And now you can see the end. The toughest thing is figuring out how to feel.”

How about proud?

Opponents tired of hearing about it, because it made the 76ers into Good Guys With Heart and them into Morally Inferior Slugs. But cut it any way you like, this was an inspirational 76er team, overachieving at a monumental level.

Brown’s very presence in his first Finals ennobled the series as he lauded his players and the Lakers alike and refused to take offense at anything the Lakers did or said, which the press eagerly relayed.

Every day Brown, looking wan, exhausted and blissed out, would show up and say things like:

“This is phenomenal. I’ll cherish every bit of this. Every little bit, you know, watching my players play, just being part of it. It’s what you dream about. I had no idea it would ever be like this. This is so much better than my wildest expectations.”

Then there was the virtual newspaper war that ennobled nothing, as the sides traded charges of “Hellhole” and “Plastic.” There were so many “At Least We Have Electricity” signs in the First Union Center, you thought Philadelphia might have changed its motto from “The City of Brotherly Love” to “The City with Electricity.”

Of course, it wasn’t a fair fight, because Philadelphia is as insecure as Los Angeles is, uh, fond of itself.

Like Iverson, Philadelphians don’t simply collect insults, they hold them close to their hearts. They suffered miserably at the hands of our T.J. Simers and booed the singing group, Destiny’s Child, for wearing Laker colors. Actually, one woman wore a 76er top, one wore a Laker top and the third wore an NBA top with both teams’ logos.

By the next game, the group Sugar Ray was so unnerved, the members asked 76er owner Pat Croce to introduce them so the crowd would give them a break.

Then there was the Kobe-hates-us thing that took on a life of its own.

Stung at being singled out for special booing, taunting and chanting, Bryant, for the first time began playing down his local ties.

This obviously proved he had “forgotten his roots,” as it said in a story in the front section of the Daily News.

Finally, before Game 5, when the pressure was off, Bryant relaxed enough at the daily news conference to concede:

“I love Philadelphia. That’s my hometown, but I’m here to do a job. I’m playing for the Los Angeles Lakers and that’s what I’m gonna represent.”

Neither local paper used the quote. They had the image they wanted--punk ingrate--and they were sticking with it.

Not that good taste fled, altogether. The Daily News, asking readers to send in e-mail messages for the Lakers, added: “Please be warned, though, that no messages with obscenities or terroristic threats will be posted. Thanks.”

So there’s hope for the future of journalism as it relates to the NBA Finals, after all, but not much.