Buss Chooses One Guy, and Hurts Whole Team

In the increasingly strange and distant world of Jerry Buss, this is what is known as the triple crown.

You allow the best executive in NBA history to skip town.

You allow the best coach in NBA history to skip town.

You ignore the best center in NBA history until he demands to skip town.

Buss, once considered the emperor of sports owners, awakens today in his birthday suit, idly fiddling while his creation smolders around him.

The man who once had a sterling touch now has a Sterling touch.

The doctor is out.

Those who thought the Laker dynasty ended in a blizzard of Detroit dunks and steals and confetti Tuesday night were wrong.

It actually ended three days later, on freaky Friday, with Phil Jackson leaving, with Shaquille O’Neal demanding to leave, while Buss was ... where exactly?

Oh yeah. There he is. Sitting with those Laker fans who value style over substance, pizazz basketball over Piston-type basketball.

All of them chanting, “Ko-be, Ko-be, Ko-be.”

Our beloved hippie has really taken us on a surreal trip lately.

Several years ago, Buss thought the Lakers didn’t need Jerry West. He was wrong.

On Friday, he made it clear the Lakers don’t need Jackson. Wrong again.

On the same day, Buss’ failure to even verbally support Shaquille O’Neal resulted in O’Neal’s demand to be traded. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

After 25 years of writing the checks and staying out of the way, Buss is suddenly believing his own press clippings, not to mention his cash register, which apparently can only punch one number, that being 8.

Pay little attention to that gnawed cherry stem atop Friday’s muddy sundae, the news that Kobe Bryant has also opted out of his contract.

Bryant will stay, because Jackson and O’Neal are leaving.

Bryant will stay, because who else would show him so much love?

The Clippers aren’t getting rid of a nine-time NBA championship coach for him, are they?

The Phoenix Suns won’t dump a three-time NBA Finals MVP for him, will they?

From his sideline comments in Phoenix in February to his hotel lobby sweet talk early Wednesday in Detroit, Buss has made it clear that this team belongs to Bryant.

Which makes it clear that common sense has taken its leave of Buss.

Why did he have to pick one guy? Showtime was never about one guy, was it?

Why did he have to give that sideline interview in which he clearly stated that Bryant was his main priority, and that Jackson and O’Neal would have to wait? Once commanded by a cutting-edge owner, this team is now being run by a crotchety grandfather?

And why, in the lobby of the team’s Detroit hotel, was he seen huddling with only Bryant, Karl Malone and Derek Fisher in the wee hours of Wednesday morning? A nice example of teamwork by the owner of a team that had just lost because they had none.

Buss must think everything is just swell today, his team soon to be in the hands of his favorite son, the coach and players to be of Bryant’s liking, everybody young and fun and willing to throw everything to No. 8.

But the bigger picture isn’t so clear.

Replace Jackson? Slim chance.

Replace O’Neal? No chance.

Yeah, the Lakers can just find another 7-foot, 340-pounder whose giant back has shouldered three championships.

Hey, there are all kinds of guys out there who have been so dominant, the league changed the rules in hopes of slowing them. Right, and I’ve got a Devean George jumper to sell you.

O’Neal’s most enduring quality isn’t his scoring or his rebounding or even his intimidation, even though all are among the league’s best.

It’s his singularity.

In the NBA, there is nobody like him, and may never be anybody like him, and even at age 32 with shifting moods and questionable work habits, he is an irreplaceable freak of nature.

The league has a handful of Kobes, maybe not in the final two minutes, but certainly in the course of a season, and none of them are capable of winning a championship by themselves.

There is only one Shaq.

Then again, there was only one Jerry West.

And only one Phil Jackson.

And now we know there is only one Jerry Buss. He’s convinced us, yes, of course, the weathered hands that built this tradition are still powerful enough to unravel it.

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Bill Plaschke can be reached at bill.plaschke@latimes.com. For previous columns by Plaschke, go to latimes.com/plaschke.