Horry Is Providing Lakers With Real Guts

Every journey, even those taken to the same place for three consecutive springs, begins with a map.

After wandering lost for about nine long minutes of game clock Sunday, the Lakers finally pulled one out.

It was wrinkled, faded, difficult to unfold.

But so easy to read.

It’s name was Robert Horry, who, a week ago, was as appreciated as glove compartment change.

Today the Lakers are slumped in a rest area, dabbing their foreheads, fanning their faces, thankful to have him.

They want to know what it will take to win a third consecutive NBA championship?

They needed only to watch their veteran forward on the first day of the trip, a 95-87 victory over the Portland Trail Blazers in front of 18,997 at Staples Center.

That was him, taking the floor to a huge ovation with 3:01 left in the first quarter, seemingly exhausted with every step.

That is what happens when you try to behave like a world-class athlete less than a week after suffering a working-class stomach-muscle injury.

“It’s amazing how, if you don’t play two games, you lose a little bit of your conditioning,” Horry said.

That was him, though, covering the court in a flapping, sweat-stained shirt and grimace, sticking a hand at Rasheed Wallace, lending a hand to Shaquille O’Neal.

That was him surviving 30 minutes of huge little tips, enormous tiny passes, giant short sprints.

“He did the things he usually does,” said Trail Blazer Coach Maurice Cheeks, shaking his head. “He does the little things.”

That was him, leading the Lakers to a 65-54 edge when he played. That was him, watching the Lakers get outscored, 33-30, when he didn’t play.

And that was most certainly Robert Horry afterward, shrugging as if none of it much mattered.

“Aw, we would have won without me,” he said.

Would not.

Not this game.

Not with Rick Fox and Samaki Walker combining for six points and nine fouls.

Not with most of the supporting players bouncing off O’Neal and Kobe Bryant and each other as if this playoff world was something strange and uninhabitable.

On a day when their ability sometimes deserted them, the Lakers needed Horry’s instincts, his reach, his touch.

Not to mention, his guts, no matter how strained they might be.

Said Cheeks: “He didn’t look hurt to me.”

Said Fox: “It was good enough just to see him wearing the uniform.”

It was even nicer to see him get it dirty, even though it was sometimes ugly and at least once quite scary.

In the final moments of the game, he bent over and grabbed his stomach.

At that moment, about 5,000 others bent over and grabbed their stomachs.

Horry being Horry, he answered fears with laughter.

“No, that wasn’t my stomach, I just got elbowed in the side,” he said. “The stomach is fine. I’m good.”

Good enough, the Lakers must hope, to survive the rest of what could be Horry’s fifth championship run (he has two with the Houston Rockets), which would be only one fewer than Bryant and O’Neal combined.

It should figure that, after an odd regular season devoid of symbolism or theme, Horry could be it.

A veteran battling nature for one more bit of glory, battling with a constant smile and eternal limp.

And as much humility as he can muster.

“I really had an awful game tonight,” Horry said

Especially that third quarter, when, after a couple of quick Wallace jumpers loosened up the belly, he forced the top Trail Blazer scorer into four consecutive misses.

Then he harassed Ruben Patterson into throwing the ball out of bounds.

Then he tipped Fox’s missed three-point attempt back to Fox, who then hit a three-pointer to give the Lakers a 10-point lead.

All of which led to that perfect Horry moment when, late in the game and the Lakers leading by five, he sneaked downcourt and took a floor-length pass and converted a layup.

“He does things like that,” Cheeks said.

Terrible, indeed.

“He played OK,” Coach Phil Jackson said.

So he had only four rebounds, and made only two of five shots, and seemed tentative on his trademark playoff three-pointers.

The sellout crowd understood that on this day, there were more important things, as they honored him in the final seconds with a standing ovation.

“I really appreciate the fans, they’re used to me doing the things that don’t show up,” Horry said.

On this day, though, those things did show up, wrinkled and faded and splendid.

So did owner Jerry Buss, who made a rare postgame trip to the locker room to wait patiently for Horry to finish his interviews.

He wanted to check on Horry’s health.

But most of all, he wanted to thank him.

“I’m cool, I’m cool,” said Horry, walking into the late afternoon, a journey well begun.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com.