BRANDON INGRAM Feature-THE DUKE

Slim Pickings.

By TIM DAVID HARVEY.

“I think it just gives me motivation to show these guys that the skinny part doesn’t matter"-Brandon Ingram

First impressions are everything they say and you can tell with the second pick in the 2016 NBA Draft, Los Angeles Lakers select Brandon Ingram is far from impressed. You can see from the eyes of the soul as he nods through a hurt insult that's too numb now to be anything but jaded that this is a repeat and it's getting old as California's Red Hot Chilli Peppers once said by the way. With the second question he is asked too after shaking hands with Silver that really isn't framed like one. He's heard it all before. But how about a million more times? No thanks right?!  Just like those stupid Spongebob or Jack Skeleton memes as tastelessly tacky as they are tauntingly thoughtless, when no one else looked as dapper as this don in his Draft Day NBA birthday suit that looked like he flipped his Bel-Air blazer Fresh Prince inside out. "I said this yesterday (so it's already been said...again) when I first saw you...I can't believe how skinny you are"! That's what the reporter (albeit still a great one) tasked with being one of the first people to interview Brandon Ingram, mere seconds after his Lakers debut as their top selection asked. Not some other generic soundbite regarding retired Kobe Bryant. Or something else that has nothing to do with how this young man plays...but the ultimate thing that has everything to do with ignorant gossip, but nothing to do with how he puts it down. I know the pain Brandon. A judge, jury and executioner of my peers and girls would never look at me twice when I was your new jersey number in age because I was the kind of guy you couldn't see if I turned on my side. And that wasn't the only thing. Because of my slight build and skinny figure I was bullied mercilessly in an all boys school because I wasn't in their eyes viewed as a "real man", because I carried skin and bones, rather than a six pack. Miller Lite rather than a beer with the boys. But I tell you that's not what makes a man. Traits like endurance and passionate drive do. Not to mention or forget compassion. Their lack of that was hell and still in ways only I know tortures and torments me and stunts my growth to this day. And I'm thirty for crying out loud! You're just a kid. As Ingram protests, almost-if it wasn't for his already reputation certified, trademark professionalism-pleadingly, "I'm only 18"! Sideline reporter take note...he's just made his powerful punch of a point. Even if as subtely so as his slender but soul of heart build of a body.

"I have an inner strength that no one knows about"-Brandon Ingram.

But they're about to. And pardon the pathetic pun, but do you want to know the skinny on this kid? They're calling this young gunner the next Kevin Durant. You know? Only the biggest free agent of not only this offseason, but all the Summers since LeDecision. No matter if you love it/him or hate his taking the talented superteam of the big three, downtown Steph Curry, Klay Thompson and Draymond Green Golden State Warriors and turning them into NBA Basketball's equivalent of Marvel. So you can frame Brandon Ingram as the perfect prototype player for this California brand of basketball. Especially when out West he models his game on the likes of underrated superstar and all defensive San Antonio Spur swingman and King moat stopper Kawhi Leonard. Not to mention silver and black legend George Gervin which even surprised another legend and Inside The NBA interviewer Grant Hill (another great to follow in the sneaker steps of on court). Sure this teenager two years off 20 should be too young to remember The Iceman...but he does. This kid could be the coldest. And crisply dressed in a Lakers coloured suit on the press conference day of his introduction to the lockers of Laker gold, complete with a perfectly placed purple heart, this man is suited and booted as the next in Laker legacy line to bleed purple and live gold. Inking his reputation to these creeds and colours like the scriptures imbeded in his arms. Like the palm trees that tattoo this city of lost angels who have just found their new saint. One chosen one who in this new small ball revolution could resurrect and lead a 'Death Lineup' of former rookie and sophomores Julius Randle, Larry Nance Jr and Jordan Clarkson and last years number two pick D'Angelo Russell and keep them running away from Laker fan suicide from all the lost seasons that have lead to this pick of the litter, as they run other teams to dry erase extinction. That's the Walton way anyway. Be thankful for the Grateful Dead. Forget a 'Fantastic Four', this five could be fire with their new human torch igniting and showing the way like a beacon burning brighter than the futuristic neon of downtown L.A. at night that Dark Knight signal shines from the spaceship like glow of STAPLES, the centre of Los Angeles times.

That now are all going to read about Brandon as this generation Instagrams Ingram. Brandon Ingram is about to ingrane his legacy in Lakerland tomorrow to a marrow of memories of gold, not just a purple haze. And it's all in his bones...not how bony he is. Some critics may try to insult him to injury obscurity. Call it like that coach who once said the late, great Manute Bol was so thin they could save on airfare for away games on the road by faxing him from city to city. But in this "what's your wifi" Bluetooth replacing age lets take it broadsheet back to the printing of the likes of L.A. Times Pulitzer Prize winning legend Jim Murray's newspaper columns that would join you with your glass of orange and round of toast at your breakfast counter. He would have referenced something more meaningful in his analysis. Like the 6 foot 9, 190 pound kids wingspan that reaches to a floor spreading seven feet and three inches. Saying something like just north of Nevada you could put a basket at each end of the Grand Canyon and this kid could still play the passing lanes. You know he reached higher than the opposite of this landmarks drop too for that block in his Summer league debut so big you know only Chick would have been able to call it. Give it it's own name like he saw it...and our eyes are about to. All you have to do is read above the underline of all the journalists notepads from Ingram's presser to see the word "Vocal" stressed over and over again like their recorders were broke. Another big time player that's added his John Hancock to the new Lake Show proceedings Luol Deng-brought in to mentor his fellow Small Forward scoring former Duke alumnus-knows this Devil in a blue uniform has that Coach K professionalism in him already. It is as integral as his mature integrity. A young man willing to write the next chapter of his career whilst his peers are busy composing their Snapchat story. Even if he doesn't make Sixer Bill Simmons book of basketball look more like the prelude of Sam Bowie, this young prince in purple looking like Kendrick Lamar could soon be the king of L.A. like the man that levitates, levitates levitates. All the way to being raised like those former greats to the place where they put gold banners. Big names with ceilings eyes looking up couldn't even see. Names like Wilt, Shaq and Kareem. Numbers like 13, 32 and 33. Even names like West, Wilkes and Worthy. It's not always about the centre of attention but those smooth as silk players with games big enough to be the legacy logo of this league. Look for number 14, because he may soon have his day like 24. After all look at the locker they gave him. A snake slithers out behind a bottle of Vino proposed as a toast to Brandon as his Ingram name is placed over one you might be more familiar with. One who twenty years ago before this kid was even born was a young 18 year old himself with the weight of Los Angeles' Hollywood world on his skinny shoulders . One number eight. One Kobe Bryant. Two decades later like it was all scripted its time for the second pick to be the second coming.

Act Two...

#TheKobeSeries THE BASKETBALL DIARIES

One Last Vine.

By TIM DAVID HARVEY

Dear Diary...or should I say Kobe!?

I can't believe it! I mean we all knew it was coming, but you know most of us refuse to believe something until we see it. Or learn the hard way. Or maybe it's just a case of not thinking about something we don't ever want to happen. A kind of wishful thinking that it doesn't. A fruitless approach but one still full of an effort that goes unrecognised. It's for sure not a case of you don't know what you've got 'till it's gone. We all knew for 20 years.

But after two decades, one last season and winding down, farewell tour games, four final quarters and a buzzer it was all over. Retired. Rafter banner and Hall ready. Forever in fame...but no longer in game.

I woke up this morning and Kobe Bryant was gone.

One of the greatest NBA players of all time. Certainly the closest inspiration to his idol, Michael Jordan, 23. Number 24 and 8...about to be up there with his teammate Shaq and all the other Laker greats. Mikan, Wilt, the fire of Jerry West, the ice of Elgin Baylor, the silk of Jaamal Wilkes, Big Game Worthy, Cap Kareem and the Magic man. Perhaps if it wasn't for Earv, Kob' would go down...and up as the greatest Laker ever, but as Johnson introduced the Black Mamba to the STAPLES crowd last night you knew whose Hollywood night it was.

To the tune of 60 incredible points at his age in front of an 18,000 sell out in front of the game and Hollywoods elite. From former teammates Derek Fisher and tank God Lamar Odom, to celebrities like Kanye West, Jay Z and of course Jack.

Heeeeere's Kobe!

About to hand it down to number 2 D'Angelo Russell, Jordan Clarkson, Julius Randle and Larry Nance Jr and their Laker legacy after one more memory for his Vino and Gold legend on Mamba Day.

The Nike athlete just did it like the commercial. Not even Jordan could take the air out his career like this. You have to love this a######!

One more for the road. One last ride.

Pick a moment from the history books for your memory banks. There's more than eight wonders for number 24 over that many seconds, 48 minutes and 82 games over the amount of time it takes your kid to be a man of their own.

Since '96...golden classic!

There's the time he took his talent and sunglasses to the draft. Or the time he made all us high school kids jealous by taking Brandy to the prom. From Tyra Banks to his wife Vanessa he was the man. He even had the balls to rap. But it was his skill in another game with just one ball that really kept it real. Just like winning the Slam Dunk contest, rookie year in your warm ups. Or starring with Shaq, Eddie Jones and Nick Van Exel in an almost full Western All Star starting team. And then there was the three titles with the Shaq and Zen Master dynasty. Then two more with his Spanish brother Pau Gasol and Phil and Fish again. And let's not leave out those two Olympic gold medals in the Dobermans kennel.

Who could forget? Like numbers like 81. Or 62 points over three quarters over Dallas like a Maverick. Who could forget all the dunks, crossovers and fadeaways. All the moves, shaking off all the injuries. Like a torn rotator cuff, playing through the pain of his shoulder hanging out his socket. Or tearing his Achilles, trying to push it back into place like the God that he is, before standing up and making two free throws, before walking off like the legend he is...no Paul Pierce wheelchair. Or even fellow retired Laker legend Gary Vitti popping that dislocated digit back in its painful place. Atta boy!

There's so many Mamba moments through the snakes and ladders of his time on the hardwood pine. Like his Phantom Menace, force play in that operatic face mask. Or the Coach Kobe sidelined time...hey, you never know! Or a personal favourite how he reacted, or should we say didn't to when former teammate, than a foe Matt Barnes tried to inbound the ball on his face.

Everyone's got their own special moment. That's just how much he means to so many people.

The career of Kobe Bryant means more to me than just being a 'bleed purple and live gold' fan of the L.A. Lakers. Being born in the soccer mad U.K. I started liking Basketball in 1996 when I was 11 years old. Jordan was the greatest but If I didn't want to look like a "glory supporter" I had to pick someone else other than the Chicago Bulls to follow as a fan. Los Angeles and the purple and sunshine gold of the Lakers drew me in like the backcourt play of Eddie Jones and Nick Van Exel. Little did I know that months later they'd draft some 18 year old and a big fella. 20 years of living and dying hard with the same team and I just had to make the trip back to the States this January to see Kobe play at STAPLES one last time. I mean I've not just grown up with this guy I've wrote about him when the lack of televised coverage in my home country meant I had to find another way to stay connected to his story. I got my first writing gig off an article I wrote about him. Too young to have witnessed Magic I don't just owe my Laker gold memories to him...I owe my career to him.

All good things don't come to an end...they live on in memory!

#FarewellKobe Thank you for everything! #TheKobeSeries

#TheKobeSeries I STILL BELIEVE IN KOBE BRYANT

Forever 24

By TIM DAVID HARVEY

Just because someone is broken down doesn't erase all the great things they've done...

I Still Believe In Kobe Bryant...

1996. Shades atop the bald M.J. like cut of the next greatness to his airness. A kid whose about to play in front of the Hollywood celebrity types who are no stranger to that type of sunglasses indoors look announces that straight out of high school he's about to take his LeBron James decision to the talents of the NBA. He looked too hot too handle. Too good to be true. Too cocky? Too much air in that aviator covered dome? Well the kid Kobe was only 18 and he was bound for greatness...albeit some mistakes too. Utah, the Salt of the Lake City for the Laker. Nothing but nitrogen and oxygen. Airball after airball until the birds called. Young Kob' couldn't hit much on his way to the postseason of a rookie year that seasoned him even as a young pro. He couldn't make music against the Jazz. Mailer daemon, failed to deliver against future teammate Karl 'Mailman' Malone. His best fade was away with his afro. But it wouldn't be long before leather met nylon and Kobe met the legend of Larry again and again, year after year, circling around again. Just like a ring. How it all changes...

2016. And in this New Year, Kobe will be resolute in his poetic, press conference announcement and the conclusion of his rocking chair retirement tour of his last 82 game NBA season. Arena to arena. Player to player. From fellow high schooler, now old school, still here and back home in Minnesota Kevin Garnett, to new kid on the Californian block D'Angelo Russell. From Madison Square Garden to the STAPLE of his one, true home. Heroes come and go but legends are forever. Muse to muse. Stephen Curry to LeBron James. All the tributes. All the testaments. All the devotion. All the dedications. All the crowds. All the cheers. All the long three balls just for show. And then again, 20 years later as the former 18 year old future of the franchise and league, pushing 38 and all he can do with the rock starts shooting at air once more. Face it father time is real. It's crazy how it all comes around. Like infants becoming seniors. The rise and fall either side of prime time. The circle of basketball life and a legends career. It's all too raw and all too real. But to the chef and the King watching, watch closely because one day it'll all be us too. Time just gets away from us...no matter how much true grit we have. It'll happen to the Spur sheriff Tim Duncan too...no matter how old he gets. Magic and the greatest ever to do it initialed M.J. knows that all too well. As does the icon of the logo Jerry West. You can only clutch at it for so long. One day all that's good must pass and come to an end. But in the air of all those missed shots tonight comes one that makes. And then another...and another...and another. Brick, swish, brick. Swish, swish, swish. Swish, Swish...SWISH.

I Still Believe In Kobe Bryant...

And then out of nowhere he gets more air and then takes flight like the vintage, still in warm ups slam dunking, champion child he once was. Jamming a dunk home. Rising against the Rockets. Even Dwight Howard had to give it up. There's nothing realer than reconciliation. The tributes keep flowing in. No wonder this superhero caught iron like Tony Stark. No rim like old Wizard M.J. at All Star. The air is still there. The Kobe Nike's still just doing it with those old cleat, sneaker steps. Even the kid D'Angelo thinks his mentor could play for another two years with hops like that. Even if that could have been how he ended up putting that shoulder out. You always knew he'd rise again. I mean this is a guy that tore his Achilles and then tried to push it back in place, before getting back up, making two free throws and walking off court...no wheelchair. All heart...no doubt to that dedication. Even that negative is a career highlight like a maverick 62 in three quarters. Just let another former foe like Dwight tell it, as legend Reggie Miller clutches at the perfect quotable soundbite; "there's still venom in the Mamba"! Word to Vino!

I Still Believe In Kobe Bryant...

You can't deny in this last run. Everything this man has done. The partnership with Shaq. The dynasty that will always last. The gassed up refuel with Gasol. The reunion and redemption with the Zen Master. The duos with teammates that he helped and they helped alike. The greatest role player to ever do it Derek Fisher. One of the most, all round talented players to ever put the ball on the floor and play this game, no matter what Lamar Odom (stay up, stay well). And now the new small-ball revolution, big-three of the continuing Lake Show, Julius Randle, Jordan Clarkson and the number one, number 24 should look after, this years second pick, Russell. And talking of numbers. Number 8? Number 24? Which do you retire? Both! Come on where talking about a guy who scored 81 points in a single game. Second only to Wilt's 100! Put that up! A Laker legend as big as Chamberlain, Kareem, Minneapolis' Mikan, or even Shaq. Let alone the logo or the Magic playing card. A legend of the NBA and its history as a whole. The closest thing to the G.O.A.T., Michael Jordan. Hero or villain. Dark Knight or Darth Vader it doesn't matter. In these Star Wars this guy was a Phantom Menace, even at times with the operatic mask. A basketball Jedi that still isn't done. The force is still awakening.

I Still Believe In Kobe Bryant...

Dear Basketball. He penned you one last love letter, signed, sealed and delivered to his season swansong. This is how much you mean to him. He gave you his all. Body and soul. That's true love and if you can't see it, you can read it in this players tribute in The Players Tribune. From tube socks to game winning shots. Little Italy to the Great Western Forum. Jellybeans to red grapes of vino wine. He fell in love with you and we fell in love with him. Sole to soul. Hustle to heart. Pounding. Grinding. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1...gone. Goodbye. Love always. And Dear Kobe. I wrote letters to you too. No Stan, just a fan. I told you after the first injury that crippled your career that we all knew you'd come back. I told the world that would listen that I wouldn't bet against you. I wrote stories and tributes to you. So much so I created a series. The only one to feature more than number 24, was one less in 23 for 'The Jordan Series'. More than a hash-tag trend it was my dedication to the end. As a matter of fact, as humble as it is. As small as it is. No matter how far it all goes or how big this all gets. The first article I ever had published for SLAM was about you. I was barely 25 and I called it 'Thirtysomething' and now as one myself with a half decades of experience and more articles for more outlets and plenty more dedications wrote later I owe my career to you. Your gift. Your inspiration. Your muse. It's simple as that, but how do I find the right words to thank you? The influence to what you've done to my life is ingrained like your palm on the seams of the basketball. And for that to this day all I can say is thank you once again. And once again, to this day, your last one in this game may be coming, but not yet. It's far from over. There's still so much more to come. Still so many games to play. Still so many articles to write. Still so much more. Still.

I Still Believe In Kobe Bryant...

Do you?

#TheKobeSeries

LARRY NANCE JR Feature-LIKE FATHER, LIKE DUNK

NBA Fam.

By TIM DAVID HARVEY

Looking up to the glow that is his father, junior can't help but be in awe as his eyes attempt to scale the height of the television he see's before him. The V.H.S. is rewound to an NBA Classic and Larry Nance senior is taking the human highlight film of Dominique Wilkins, the good doctor of Julius Erving and the first ever NBA Slam Dunk contest by windmill storm. So much so whether you're someone as big as Michael Jordan or even Kobe Bryant you can't help but take inspiration from the first NBA player in history to win this now storied and epic contest back in 1984. Especially if you're Larry Nance Jr, the former NBA players son watching on tape delay as a young boy at a contest more than a decade and change in the making before he was born, becoming the new proudest thing Larry Nance had done. Rising like the Phoenix he was, Nance reduced the competition of the likes of Showtime Laker Michael Cooper, Portland Trail Blazer, Clyde 'The Glyde' Drexler, Dr. J and Nique to ashes even when he was still in his warm ups (we see your inspiration Kobe). No sweat, his combo of one, armed, outstretched windmills and tomahawks flying had the whole basketball world in a spin, years before the wheel turned and a lack of originality ruined the most creative of contests when it came to the freewheeling All-Star weekend. 'The High-Ayatolla of Slamola' deserved every 50, before the voice of the 'Got Talent' like panel came in to former champion, years after play. Before all that he was American's above the rim idol. Bar the free and high sock stance of the fun and entertaining ABA contest, the three time All-Star and Cavalier, whose 16 and 8 career average was great enough to have his number 22 raised higher than his hops to the Cleveland rafters, made his weekend in 1984 his living, lasting legacy of legend. One that still continues to this day. In more ways than one...or being the first and foremost.

The legendary and legacy line of father and son, family ties in this league is as storied as the NBA or the Walton's (Bill and Luke to be family tree traceable) themselves. We all know about the Barry's, the Dell and Steph Curry's (not to mention brother Seth and the rest of the ball playing family that like most court holding families extends to the womens league and probably one day, postgame superstar Riley Curry). His teammate Klay Thompson and his dad Mychael of the Lakers and the fact that Los Angeles Clippers head Doc Rivers coaches his son Austin like this chapter was written in the stars by the basketball gods themselves. But there's much more than meets the fathers eyes when it comes to father time. I mean did you even forget about Kobe's pops, Joe 'Jellybean' Bryant? Or speaking of that, George Karl's son Coby who also had some underrated time with the Lakers that should have birthed more? There's the Bibby's...Henry and Mike. Horace Grant's brother Harvey and his sons Jerami and Jerian Grant. Norm and Brian Cook. Tito Horford and Al Horford, Ed Manning and Danny Manning. And even the first Basketball superstar George Mikan and his son Larry. Or more recently John and David Stockton. And that isn't even the half of it. We haven't even got to the players named after players. Ron and Ronnie Brewer who where both Bulls in Chicago. Larry Drew and Larry Drew II. Rich and Richard Dumas. Or how about even the slight change of LeRoy Ellis and LeRon Ellis? Mike Dunleavy Sr and junior. Walter Szczerbiak and Wally Szczerbiak and Glenn Robinson Jr and Glenn Robinson the third. And more big guns today. Patrick Ewing and Patrick Ewing Jr. Glen Rice and his Junior. Tim Hardaway. And of course the legend of Larry.

Nance Jr rocking the Lakers number 7 like the great Lamar Odom is a swingman like no other, who I guarantee you'll see this mid-February in Toronto for the All-Star weekend, one way or another the city needs his heat. Sure this late first rounder could be a steal like the similarly slept on sophomore Jordan Clarkson and he could join the Julius Randle and D'Angelo Russell, young, hopeful future of the Lake Show in the rookie/sophomore duel. His energy, hustle and what he brings to the game on both sides of the floor, like rebounding, not to mention his genes can afford and assimilate that. He's already the off the pine, microwave time, hustle and lay-up line flow, spark  plug the Lakers have sorely missed since guys like Von Wafer, Shannon Brown, Devin Ebanks and Trevor Ariza. And thats just the tip of a very cold iceberg. But aside from that this kid has to be a dead cert for the Slam Dunk contest and not just because of his pops, who is now wearing a Laker cap in support like he never thought he would after all that 80's blow-out Showtime, Sun heartache. But because of that preseason dunk against the champion Golden State Warriors that caught the cool and crisp Hawaii air and so much more so that it may even be the dunk of the year...and it wasn't even officially recorded this season. The elevation, the pause for breath in the middle of air, the hammer, the nail in the games coffin and then the Jordan-esque shrug. I don't know that could be it. But then again did you catch the one he caught against the Pistons going full throttle to the hole with aggression, but the air-time, cruise control he displayed as he butterfly floated to the net before he stung like an Ali bee. It almost looked angelic in those Sunday Whites. Or how about everything else to come? Just like his alley-oop, lay-up against Orlando, it's all magic. Now you know he can enter the ring and knock everyone else out, round for round in the ultimate bell-ringing contest with the tricks of his, 'now you see me, now you're a poster trade'. Like Larry Jr said, "it'd be fun". Like Larry Senior says of his boy; "he's playing hard", adding that his son at the young age of 22 already understands the game better than he did. Now Nance wants to take it one step further with his family legacy and have little Larry continue his dunking legend in the Slam contest, if not this year but one day. He'll be watching with pride, like son, like father, but this time from courtside whilst everyone else will be watching on T.V. Like father, like dunk! “He was going to put me in a wheelchair, roll me out under the basket and slam dunk on top of me,” senior told Lakers.com about junior. Father time is about to get a real facial.

D'ANGELO RUSSELL Feature-UNTITLED

The Vanguard.

By TIM DAVID HARVEY

Loading...please wait. D...How does it feel? Your time is now! Step up the plate, this is your big moment young man. The bases are loaded. The whole crowd, city and California state is watching. All eyes are on you...no pressure. No trick...you own this like Magic. No curve-ball. The City of Angels savior in this Angelino called 'Angelo. The Black Messiah. The Los Angeles times and Clipper clippings voodoo is over now with your youthful spirit. The Back to the Future return (Part II) like your 'Brown Sugar' singer namesake. It's just that legendary. As yet untitled...ready to make your bright lights name in this big city of futuristic skyline neon above the beams of STAPLES. As the Vanguard, about to lead the militarily formation of the new young sportsmen foot-soldiers into battle. It's your time to seek out the enemy, secure new ground and advance the main force. You're the new definition. You're even supposed to replace one of the greatest. That's what makes you this years worthy number 2. But you want to prove yourself to be the sole digit on your new jersey...front and back. Number one with the ball and the crowd cheering your name. Your opponent looking at you opposite...eyes of piercing opposition. Your feet firmly on the plate. You draw your arm back and here's the pitch...but you 'aint Clayton Kershaw and you're no Dodger. Even if the number 32 you're supposed to follow in the sneaker steps of owns this moment. You are Los Angeles though and the future is coming towards you like a fastball. That's why you have the honor of this traditional moment in baseball lore for your sister sport and franchise. Everyone's done it...from 50 Cent to Barack Obama...and unlike most that embarrass you certainly have quite an arm. You know how to throw kid! But your real moment will come when the ball is tipped, not tossed and hopefully falls towards you as you take it and lead a whole new way to pass it over. For you D'Angelo Russell are a Los Angeles Laker and your time is now.

How does it feel? Karma?! It's been a long time...but alas what goes around, comes right back around. If you're a Los Angeles Laker fan you can't stop going on about it...if you're a rest of the hoops world hater that even begins in the same STAPLE building arena of the Clippers you can't hear the end of it. That infamous Chris Paul nixing in 2011. When the Lakers wanted to continue their championship run and traded two of their most versatile and worthwhile contention pieces (Pau Gasol and Lamar Odom) to keep up the race lead by way of one of the greatest Point Guard leaders in the game from the then Hornets nest of New Orleans. Alongside Kobe Bryant it was going to lead to the best backcourt in NBA history in it's prime. But then the Commissioner put a Stern end to all of that. And all that snowballed after that was the fall of the second new millennium Laker dynasty under the California sun. This fallout was almost as bad as the death of the Shaq and Kobe dynasty. Hurt feelings led to the skilled seven foot frontcourt tandem of Odom and Gasol eventually leaving alongside championship, veteran chess pieces like Derek Fisher and Metta World Peace (until now...unless he gets cut), under the cloud of rumors of being trade bait, dangled from the Laker boat in the middle of an ocean of doubt. Then the Lakers legendary legacy of big-men, from Mikan and Wilt, to Kareem and Shaq crumbled under the front-line foundations of Andrew Bynum and then Dwight Howard. The Lakers thought they finally got their first legitimate superstar Point Guard since Magic revenge over the CP3 nixing when they signed legend Steve Nash, but they didn't realize the fickle fate that had turned their hand on them had the nerve to damage the best Canadian basketball player of all-times body with career crippling injuries that put Captain Canada on ice like the Winter Soldier. And let's not start on what the basketball God's had in store for one of the LAL and NBA's greatest Kobe Bryant. Before iconic, late Los Angeles Lakers owner Jim Buss passed he said he needed to take a wrecking ball to this team. But after him and the dream of Jeanie who was going to rebuild from the nightmare damage of all this rubble?

Well karma has a name and with the second pick in the NBA draft his name is D'Angelo Russell. Let new Commissioner Adam tell you who the purple and gold Los Angeles Lakers have selected with their clouds silver lining as he holds on to his hand longer than all he and his new team have been through to get here. At this point, no wonder the shaking grip is kept. It's almost like it was all meant to be. All the hurt all the cursed injury and in-just pain. All this domino effect in this game that even led to the losing and then lottery winning of Julius Randle in last years big draft season of change, that then in turn buckled and snapped under the broken leg pressure of the young stars first ever NBA game. Still it all feels like it happened for a karmic reason that is all beginning right now. This sophomore, last year number seven pick in technically his rookie season is playing with avengance...and Julius Randle looks ready to be an All-Star, no slump. In addition the latest lottery pick brought in thanks to the tanked season Randle's blown out and busted campaign is about to form one hell of a backcourt for the ages of the future with last years sleeper rookie Jordan Clarkson. Who stepped in for the barricaded youthful revolt of young Julius and showed he was more than just a passed over number 48 rookie and spare change, second Laker choice. As in just half a season of impressive and proved play he made the All-Rookie team and who knows what else if he was given a full season of burn. Forget what could have been with Kobe and CP3, this backcourt is now...and for decades and many more years to come. And the new Jordan and Julius of this storied NBA league joins the new Russell in Laker irony for a big-three that's set to turn this Steph Curry, California coast, Golden State Warriors small-ball league revolution on the big-man head of Laker history and legacy. Stretching the hometown Clipper rivalry across the Golden Gate of the states Pacific. With a new sea change of talent bridging the gap this is the new legend...and he's shaking Silver's hand.

The Lake Show have knocked it out the park now. No longer playoff dodgers struck out. This is the the new Showtime. This is the new Magic. Kobe knows the show must go on...but before he goes he's going to have fun and contention with these new fellas too. It 'aint over. That's why there's more in the dugout. The big-three free agent signings of defensive big-man Roy Hibbert, post powerhouse Brandon Bass and reigning Sixth Man Of The Year Lou Williams. Joining spark-plug Nick Young and new x-factor signings in the form of Brazilian Point God Marcelo Huertas with Gasol Barcelona skill and the spirits of Laker past in the form of the Ron Artest that became the war on the soft NBA, Metta World Peace. It's almost enough to forget all these Lakers have lost or never even found from LaMarcus Aldridge, to DeAndre Jordan, Marc Gasol, Kevin Love, Greg Monroe and even the big-man future of Jahil Okafor they had in their hands, because three-heads are better than one and this is the new generation. They got next. No foul balls. Strike one, Julius Randle. Strike two, Jordan Clarkson. And strike three, D'Angelo Russell. This young man with the gold Lakers cap that fits, not clashing with his Ohio State homage, draft day red suit that's the cherry on top for quite the young career of this young Buck. Now more than just Buckeyes are focused on the new headlines of the Los Angeles Times. As red meets purple it's D'Angelo Dante Russell's inferno now. The Jordan Brand Classic alongside Jordan Clarkson, both partners in backcourt prime able to tween on the pine between the two Shooting Guard and Point Guard quarterbacking positions. But it looks like the athletic Russell whose been compared to everyone from Westbrook to James Harden, but still seems unfairly underrated is the leading man whose going to Pied Piper the way for Hollywood's newest and biggest reboot. Off the dribble this number one with the number two picks time is now. The former Jerry West award winner is ready to be the logo of the L.A. Lakers in a franchise just as known for its little men (Jerry, Elgin Baylor, Gail Goodrich, Magic, Kobe...among Big Game Worthy others) as its big players and who knows maybe along the way the new icon of the NBA. Step from the shadows of the silhouette young man and get ready to swing big. Here comes the ball.

#LakerWeek

JORDAN CLARKSON Feature-JORDAN RULES

The Second Coming.

By TIM DAVID HARVEY

Jordan. That in the air tonight would be the only thing that would breathe the same inspiring life into the legacy of the legend of the Los Angeles Lakers once the closest player to ever play the game like Mike, Kobe Bryant leaves the locker room for the last time. Only a heaven sent second coming of a basketball God in the form of the number 23 would ease the pain of number 24 being raised to the rafters almost like a career funeral that you may as well go call for the trumpets. So how about J.C.? Or this Jordan? No we're not talking about Hill, he's gone over the Hickory fence to the Hoosier, Pacer state of Indiana. We're talking about Jordan Clarkson. We'll deceive you know more. Sure, sure Jordan is not like Jordan. He's not the Messiah! No basketball Jesus! Resurrection maybe?  BUT he is the guy that's going to make it easier for the Lakers Buss brass to give up the gold of possibly the greatest Laker alongside Wilt, West, Magic, Kareem and of course Shaq ever to tape up in purple and hand the treasure chest keys to bring them back circling round a ring on their championship matrimony finger. Hang on...maybe make that three. A big one too with a pair of top ten draft picks over the last two years forming one hell of a Holy Trinity. There's this years number 2 rookie D'Angelo Russell out of Ohio State and the soaring sophomore sensation out of the University of Kentucky, Wildcat Julius Randle...who technically speaking is still kind of a rookie.

CRACK!

Opening night. It doesn't get much better than this. Especially in Hollywood, where even the movie stars are downtown like Macklemore, Ryan Lewis and the greatest rappers of the old school to witness one of the biggest nights on the entertainment calendar when it comes to the schedule of sports. Basketball is beautiful and any player lucky enough to receive a cap during the shade of summer looks forward to the fall like Christmas coming early. You can feel it right now with Clarkson's, Eddie Jones great jersey number that at the time of this press is the digit of days before the new season that will see him starting commences. But last year it was a different Los Angeles Times story. Clarkson was at the end of the bench in a suit, no sweats like no Jordan should ever be as all Californian lovin' eyes where on top ten pick Julius like he was the appointed Doctor Erving. Waiting room or not, Randle was the next in line, but he was late with his date with destiny. The pressure of a debut can get to you. It can even break you. And for this young 19 year old kid it all came to a head as he snapped...or should we say his leg did. Breaking not only his right tibia but all that was left of his 82 game season after not even 15 minutes of fame. The Lakers couldn't believe their lack of luck. The dreams of Jeanie would be the rude awakenings of a nightmare that was only just beginning with the season debut return of Kobe Bryant after a season crippling injury. A few games later, Kobe would join the bedside of Randle in the same manner, marking a big, red X on all the days of the rest of his calendar after he suffered a campaign ending injury again that many thought would crucify his career. After all the Chris Paul and Dwight Howard drama...and then losing a fond and formidable friend in Pau Gasol, the Lakers new young and old one-two punch was knocked out before they even got their chance to duke it out in the ring for the belt. After some Stern nixing and even a wiped smile off Dwight Howard's face, not to mention the retirement ravaging ailments of Steve Nash's athleticism many began to feel like the Lakers where cruelly cursed. Still, those who are desperate can always scrape a buck together for a ticket that wins the lottery. Dice roll or not. It may have all been snake eyes for Mamba's men the last down and out year. But that was then...and this is now.

Randle is back, preseason playing already like the Rookie Of The Year with a sophomore status. And he and one of the games greatest Kobe Bryant is (touch hardwood) not stuck to the end of the pine, tied to it in a suit of injury. They have the chance to run with a revamped roster of redux redemption. From the defensive return of Metta World Peace, protecting this house in battle and the changing of the guard that hopefully comes with fellow former top Indiana Pacer defender and paint protector Roy Hibbert. And we haven't even begun to talk about the signings of valuable veterans like almost star Brandon Bass and Euroleague one, Brazilian Marcelo Huertas from Barcelona for a team that even has two Sixth Men in the form of last years man of the year Lou Williams and of course the swag of 'Fancy' Nick Young. Finally, of course there's the new kid on the block, number one D'Angelo Russell coming in at the number two spot and the late round, fellow draft pick of Larry Nance's dunking son. Because if the Lakers recent lottery wind of change has anything to show and prove this season, Junior will be another sleeper steal. Because we're almost forgetting someone...someone who was passed up almost 50 times before his name was called with the 48th pick. Someone who already last year wrote all those 47 others off and then some more on his way to showing he could one day be top 50 in the league today. Someone who even with Randle's injury and all the other sick notes that where posted in the post players home marked STAPLES was even left by the Lakers on the end of the bench, looking good only in fancy attire. Only suiting up for real in purple and gold when it came to the D-Fender Development League. But this student was far from a guy on some D game. Even if it did take half a season for the limping Lakers to finally straighten up and walk with him, in 38 starts and less than a full season, Jordan managed to rise up the rookie rankings and rule this team that was missing almost everybody else. Carrying all this weight on his skinny shoulders and making more than one first team as this All-Rookie could have gone for R.O.Y of the season if he was given the Autumn and Winter as well as the Spring and almost Summer. This Rookie Of The Month and member of the Rook first team being only one of four second round picks to achieve this high honor in the last 30 years of NBA almanac history books. Now Laker nation stands up on Jordan's shoulders, nobodies going to sit him down now.

Half a season. Half a year. That's all the Lakers and the NBA needed to see that this kid was and is the real deal. Half a season to show-albeit to be fair due to a season ending injury-that Jordan could be just as good...if not better than Julius. Only half a season? Not a full campaign? This guys technically a rookie too like Randle and new boy Russell. That would be true if J.C. didn't truly turn it up and tune everyone else up as this J. Clarkson went top gear and ignited Los Angeles with Fast and Furious nitrus to the dry-erase song sheet of 15.8 points, 5 assists and 4.2 rebounds per everytime he started one of his 38 games. And how about a career high 30 points and 7 assists against last years dynamo dominant Russell Westbrook and the Oklahoma City Thunder of all teams as Clarkson showed this was no, fluke or luck of the Laker. He made history that night...not just for his new year and career personal best, but for the Filipino-American from Tampa Bay Florida forming the first Asian-American starting backcourt in league history alongside poster boy, superstar Jeremy Lin. It truly was a world encompassing moment of basketball beauty highlighted by the high hitting stat sheet on the box score. The Linsanity that started in a New York minute may be over in Hollywood, but Clarkson's backcourt power partnerships by the couple aren't. Whether in the form of former Mizzou college running and dunking mate Jabari Brown. Or this years rookie Point Guard number one D'Angelo Russell who may not be able to tween between both guard positions as well as Clarkson, but is good enough to move last years Laker leader to the two. Who is in turn himself, even great enough to move the grand, albeit ageing Kobe Bryant to the three of an old school, father, old man time Small Forward position. In this Warrior king, Steph Curry champion, MVP, three-point, small ball revolution that is the new NBA, the Lakers new big-three are headlined by a small backcourt that may not be Earl Monroe and Walt Frazier of the New York Knicks yet, but are the next generation of the Lakers and the NBA. Passed the torch and about to succeed from not even a full season of proof, in comparison to the half season of former Laker Gary Payton in the same backcourt as Milwaukee Buck Sam Cassell that couldn't afford to do the same. They have just that much potential. These kids are just too good. Don't believe me, just watch them warm up in the practice of preseason. Leaving critics cold, just wait until they boil over..these guys are that hot! And they're backed up by elite experience in the Sixth Sense form of the spirited Lou-Will and Young P. And to think rumor has it that the Lakers will trade both those guya (probably Iggy Azalea too) and Clarkson for Chicago Bull, former MVP Derrick Rose and all his injuries and problems. Yeah right! Bull####! Tell that to any Laker fan right now and they'll go against what they would have prayed for a couple of seasons ago for a "HELL NO"! Even a Kobe and Rose backcourt is not worth all this. And yes D-Rose may have been the Chi-town legend that made the Chicago Bulls finally get over Jordan but like Mike, Clarkson is meant for so much more. This point is going to make his own one and his own brand and lasting name. Let Jordan rule!

#LakerWeek

METTA WORLD PEACE Feature-WORLD WAR PEACE

Panda Express.

By TIM DAVID HARVEY

Iconic like the storied purple and gold jersey his name headlines on the back, the Artest formerly know as Ron has the word Lakers proudly ink printed across the front of his chest again. Straight Outta Queensbridge, the New York native is running with Vino, Kobe Bryant again, like we only wish he was with his friend and fellow Q.B. born and raised former teammate Lamar Odom (Get well soon superstar). The former number 15 and 16th Draft Pick, that brought that same championships number to the STAPLES ceiling is back with the Michael Jackson honoring number 37 jersey again and boy its a thriller. Just like storied Sixer superstar World B. Free this once throwback, now just "back" jersey is worth more than your closet. James it is worthy of the frame above right next to your ceiling just like the STAPLES of a banner made Los Angeles rafter. The name 'World Peace' on the back of such a historic, classic and legendary Laker jersey of modern times is an inspirational statement in itself for the youth of today to rock with fashion forward purpose. The one made by the one wearing it with pride is worth so much more. World Peace is back in a league that's gone soft and with Metta in town, the city of angels most famous team in Hollywood matter again. A Laker legend returns to help Kobe hand it down to a new legacy. Metta World Peace is back and it's time for war!

Arming up in the workout facility, Metta in muscling up with a young foot-soldier ready to lead this Californian cavalry into battle. Arms and elbows are flying as two purple hearts battle over a rock like two suitors looking to engage with some beauty. This in this instance being the basket of this beautiful game. Woven in perfect nylon like those in memories cut down in the madness of the ides of March. This young kids been through the trenches and wars. He's seen all that. Now he see's the goal. The one thing standing between him and basketball immortality. If he makes it, again and again he'll go down in history as one of the games greatest warriors. Even if he is on the wrong side of the Golden State of California like he is getting on the wrong side of Draymond Green. There is another thing standing between future franchise face of the Lake Show Julius Randle and his hoop dream of basketball immorality and that is what some still underrate and think of as just another mere mortal. But this actual former 'Defensive Player Of The Year' is a worldwide basketball God...have they not checked his name? Here is a man, Metta made of real mettle who has built his legend off stopping others from making their's by making their way to the basket that hold all the fruits of the life and times of a legend with just the drop of a peach. That kind of makes him sound like the bad guy right? Public Enemy Number One? From the Malice of Auburn Hills that showed Detroit a depression of humanity to the side of James Harden's face that even left the beard in fear. But don't worry world, Ron Artest is a peaceful man now. Until he takes on the "soft" NBA he's labelled with his Charles Oakley in a Glen Davis time tough sell. Full of babies...he cries. All except Randle, who handles this game like a man whose "ceiling is as high as his destiny". How can you not love this man with quotes like that. Or like another dominating, definitive defensive player out of the fences of Indiana, Roy Hibbert calling him an "animal". It must be, in part thanks to original beast, Peace and the Artest before him, turning Randle into the next monster of the walking and fast-breaking basketball museum.

How is this guy not going to get the last spot on the Lakers 15 man roster? How is it not guaranteed? Well it might have something to do with Jordan Clarkson's former college running mate and a predatory player in his own right, Jabari Brown who knows how to run the floor and finish strong. Still this is Metta World Peace we're talking about. You've seen the Wheaties box. Here's the guy that took the shot even Phil Jackson told him not to take after his greatest miss. "Whatever"! WAP! This is the champion that met Obama and probably had a shoot around in the Presidents back yard. Playing H.O.R.S.E. with POTUS! Here's a guy whose been around longer than you could remember for teams that how could you even forget. From being the first legitimate Bull in Chicago with horns since Jordan, to a prolific Pacer, Hoosier proud or Hickory sticked. A Rocket in Houston that gave Kobe problems before they became the best of F.F's. A King in Sacramento. Even a homecoming New Yorker with the Knicks, this journeyman has made a mark everywhere...even when his passport has been stamped. This international man of mystery who has played in Europe and Asia. Ending up in Italy after almost playing for Chester of the North West of the United Kingdom of all places during the NBA lockout of all times. Still through all the teams and towns of the world Metta has said peace to he'll always be a Laker...even more than a Pacer in his great defense (it's your turn now Roy...show us what you've still got!). Just like this Panda will always be a friend of China's Blue Whales. Metta's just that all world. But we all know peace doesn't happen with at least a little fight. That's why even though M.W.P. will always have a place in the coaching staff of the Lakers along with legends James Worthy, A.C. Green and Tracy Murray, bringing their all-round offensive education to the new Russell and Jordan school of Laker greats, (like he did at the start of this Summer), going hard like an MVP he wants his spot. That's why this mid-thirties icon is diving into the crowds during a preseason game like his contract was a cast dried ink guarantee. Perhaps it will be? We're not pandering to nobody! He's still got it. A former big-time All-Star turned valuable veteran who can still bench press with the best off the pine in California (think Paul Pierce). You can't just "waive" goodbye to a guy like this. Especially with his own late career, Derek Fisher like return to a team that held the golden era of his career in a bottle of championship champagne. He should be released from his latest campaign the moment the curtain falls on the reveal of his 37 jersey next to the numbers of 32, 33 and 34. Oh yes...he's that good...and championship critical. Like Magic, Kareem and Shaq his name means that much more. That's Metta. That's goodwill. That is all-embracing. That is universal. That is the world. And that is the moment you should say "peace"!