Like an Airball, ‘Next Mike’ Hype Always Misses

Now that the season’s over and we’re distributing all the trophies and “greatest ever” awards . . .

Oh, it isn’t over? My mistake. I’ve been reading so much about the Lakers becoming one of the great teams of all time and Kobe Bryant becoming the Next Michael Jordan, I assumed they must have actually won something.

It’s a bit much, even if you understand these judgments are made annually (or in some cases, weekly) and subject to downward revisions, like the government’s gross domestic product figures.

There’s actually a mathematical formula that covers this: One title this season is worth three in the ‘90s . . . or five in the ‘60s.

You may be wondering why people persist in this Next Mike nonsense, after years of watching all their candidates get carried out, feet first.

The first was Penny Hardaway, who now plays a few games every other season.

He was followed by Jerry Stackhouse, actually shown morphing into Jordan on a Philadelphia 76er brochure before he even played a game, three seasons before he was traded to Detroit.

Bryant got his first nod three seasons ago . . . when he was 19 and wasn’t even starting yet.

That’s when he went one-on-one against the actual Mike in the All-Star game at New York, shooting 11 times in his first 13 touches and waving off Karl Malone, trying to set a pick for him, which Mailman has muttered about since. Charles Barkley, then, as now, a critic of NBC, said the hype on the telecast “made me [sick.]”

Then came Vince Carter, who’s so weirded out by it, he doesn’t even know if he wants to be Vince Carter any more.

Carter just completed a confused postseason by attending his college graduation, which was inconvenient for the Raptors, since it took place at Chapel Hill, N.C., eight hours before Game 7 at Philadelphia.

Sensitive to his wishes, they arranged for a private jet. General Manager Glen Grunwald accompanied him, along with the NBA’s foremost basketball mom, Michelle Carter.

Of course, because Vince will be a free agent in 2003, if he’d been graduating from UCLA (pretend we’re back in the days when Bruin stars graduated), the Raptors would have simply arranged for a bigger jet.

Pundits fell over each other to applaud Carter as if this was a referendum on education, rather than a ceremony that the school holds several times a year, any of which Carter could have attended.

On the other hand, what graduate could pass up hearing a commencement speaker like Stuart Scott, the ESPN anchor who became famous saying “Booyah!” telling them what awaits in the real world?

Applause is one thing, holding on to one’s Next-Mikehood another. Carter played OK in Game 7, taking only eight of his 18 shots in the second half as the Raptors lost a test of heart, the only thing the 76ers had more of.

Now everyone is back on Bryant’s doorstep. Not that it’s a compliment to Bryant, who won’t feel like he’s arrived until people are asking Jordan if he was the Last Kobe.

Of course, the press picks this stuff up from those other culprits, the players. There’s also a formula for this: If you hear something from two players, it must be true. If three or more say it, Moses may as well have brought it down on tablets from Mt. Sinai.

Last week Laker and Spur players all but joined hands and sang “Kobe’s the One” to the tune of “We Are the World.” Jordan told the Washington Post’s Michael Wilbon he sees the resemblance, too.

It would be OK, if people didn’t forget the distinction between resemblance and fact, as much as between ceremony and fact.

Mike wasn’t Mike because be won a title or two. He won six in his last six full seasons, along with six most-valuable-player awards in the finals and five regular-season MVPs. He shot 51% for his career and, for all the talk of his selfishness, averaged 5.4 assists.

Bryant has yet to shoot 48% in a season and in this one, averaged a career-best 5.0 assists.

Nor will things ever be equal for comparison’s sake. For better and worse, Jordan played in a situation wholly tailored for him.

As you may have noticed after a season’s worth of negotiation, Bryant plays in a situation primarily tailored for Shaquille O’Neal.

There’s a little matter of the test of time, so for a little longer--how about 10 years?--couldn’t we just, as Ron Harper suggested, “Let MJ be MJ and let the kid be the kid?”

I know the answer to that one. It’s no.

Meanwhile, Back in the Myth Factory

Then there’s the “greatest team ever” stuff, sure to grow to a din as the Laker streak mounts.

That’s another joke, like the Bulls donning T-shirts to that effect in 1996 after posting a 72-10 record and rolling to a title.

What great team? They had 11 role players arrayed around the transcendent Jordan, including one do-everything helper (Scottie Pippen) and one defensive ace up front (Horace Grant or Dennis Rodman).

Once, elite teams had peers. In the ‘60s, Bill Russell’s Celtics fought epic battles with Wilt Chamberlain’s 76ers. In 1967, the 76ers broke the record with 68 wins and rolled over them, but a year later, the Celtics came from 3-1 down in the East finals and dumped them in a Game 7 at Philadelphia.

The next season when Russell was 35, they dumped the Wilt-Jerry West-Elgin Baylor Lakers in a Game 7 at the Forum, for their 11th title in 13 seasons.

Larry Bird’s Celtics had to survive playoff wars with the Moses Malone-Julius Erving 76ers and the Bad Boy Pistons, just to get to the Lakers for their wars in the ‘80s.

The ‘90s Bulls faced six different teams in six East finals, and five different West teams in the NBA finals.

Depth problems were resolved by Jordan and Pippen digging down and playing 48 minutes when they had to.

Or by Jordan playing ill and scoring 38 in the pivotal Game 5 of the ’97 finals at Utah, hitting the winning three-point shot with 25 seconds left, with teammates providing support by helping him back to the bench once.

In the ‘60s, the Celtics almost had two teams, bringing Hall of Famers such as Frank Ramsey, Sam Jones, K.C. Jones, Satch Sanders and John Havlicek off their bench.

In the ‘80s, the Lakers, Celtics and Pistons still had starting-caliber backups such as Michael Cooper, Bob McAdoo, Kevin McHale, Bill Walton, Vinny Johnson and Rodman.

By the ‘90s, with expansion and teams capped out, talent was spread so widely, coaches were happy if they had five starting-caliber starters.

“I think the last teams we saw with tremendous depth were the Detroit Pistons, that were really solid through 10 and 11 players,” said Phil Jackson, coach of the ‘90s Bulls. “That’s basically what we’re seeing right now in the game, is how much depth can you have?

“I think the Lakers had four No. 1 overall draft choices, didn’t they? That just says something that’s absolutely incredible at this point.

“I mean, the Spurs have two [David Robinson, Tim Duncan]. That tells you the difference between the 2000s and the ‘80s.”

At one time or another in the ‘80s, the Lakers had Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Magic Johnson, James Worthy and Mychal Thompson, all No. 1 overall picks, plus McAdoo, a No. 2, and Byron Scott, a No. 4.

The current Lakers have one No. 1, O’Neal, although if GMs could do the ’96 draft over, who knows, maybe Bryant would go higher than 13th.

In this series, depth problems are resolved by playing Kobe, Shaq, Derek Fisher and Rick Fox 45, 42, 39 and 38 minutes a game, respectively.

What great team? It’s the Shaq-Kobe tandem that’s transcendent.

Arrayed around them are 10 role players, who are competent professionals, if not future hall of famers, along for the ride and enjoying it hugely.

Meanwhile, in the Consolation Bracket

If these are the unofficial finals, what can we expect from the actual ones?

The 76ers went as hard as they could as long as they could. Now Allan Iverson, who weighs 160 pounds in the best of times, looks like he’s down to cornrows and tattoos. Eric Snow is slowed even slower by a sore ankle. Aaron McKie has a sore shoulder. George Lynch is out for the duration.

The Milwaukee Bucks are a small, soft bunch of fast guns with little interest in George Karl’s defensive schemes, or anything else the coach says. Against them, the over-under on O’Neal would start around the 38 he averaged against the Indiana Pacers in last spring’s finals.

Of course, the Bucks went 2-0 against the Lakers, a reminder they always have a shooter’s chance.

So it wouldn’t necessarily be like running over a marshmallow with a bulldozer, even if that’s the way to bet.

Faces and Figures

Denial, a river in Michigan: Eleven years after the Bad Boys’ last title, Detroit is still standing by for the rebirth. Wrote the Detroit Free Press’ Mitch Albom of the hiring of Rick Carlisle: “Oh, there were plenty of established coaches who expressed interest in what [team President Joe] Dumars was offering. Don’t be fooled. The Pistons may be in a down cycle, in a down market, but the head-coaching position here is still considered a plum. The team has a heritage. It has a high draft pick. And it has the thing most teams in the NBA today do not have--salary cap room.” . . . The heavyweights who interviewed included Buck assistant Terry Stotts, Nugget assistant John Lucas, Magic assistant Johnny Davis, Hawk assistant Rick Mahorn and the Baddest Boy of all, Bill Laimbeer, who has never been on anyone’s staff (surprise). . . . Meanwhile, Michigan State’s Tom Izzo, for whom the Pistons were pining, lost two star sophomores to the draft and still turned up his nose at them.

Oops: Charlotte’s Baron Davis, who averaged 17.8 points and shot 48% in his postseason coming-out party, says he’d like to stay if management keeps the team together. “One through 14, there’s a certain type of love on this team that you really don’t get,” Davis said. “It’ll be a tragedy to even get rid of one guy because everybody’s so close. Everybody’s so used to each other.” Unfortunately, what he means is they should keep Derrick Coleman, whom everyone else is fed up with.