Big Chief Triangle

Dr. Bloor has admonished me for my failure to comment on the return of Phil Jackson to the Lakers. I would ignore his entreaty, but he threatened to blog about golf, so here goes.

Until Kobe turned the team for the ages into his own personal junkyard, I had been a Laker fan for almost 20 years, through the good times and the slightly less good times. The he drove off four Hall of Famers. I don't live in Big Brown anymore, and I ran out of reasons to give a damn.

I noticed that Jackson had decided to come back (which I attribute more to his relatiohship with Lakers owner Jerry Buss' daughter than to a desire to hook up with his least favorite man-child), but at this point my Kobe vitriol has run its course. Talking about the goings on with the Lakes is kinda like talking about the travails of the (Utah) Jazz -- I feel no allegiance to either place, and both teams have absurd carryover names that fit the current locations like Kobe fits the triangle. I read the news of the Lakers like I read the news of Tom Cruise's pedophilia -- quickly, with my usual disdain for rubbernecking, and in the hope that I can avoid retaining what I have seen.