Why am I such a huge Laker fan?

I was born and raised in Baltimore, Maryland. I've never lived in Los Angeles. I've never even been to Los Angeles. In fact, from what I've heard about Los Angeles, I think I would probably hate it if I lived there. Kobe Bryant, one of the best players in the game today, is quite possibly the most arrogant and egotistical player in the history of basketball. Not to mention that incredibly unfortunate incident in Denver a few years back. You know the one. So given that I have no apparent ties to this team, why am I such a loyal and dedicated fan?


My journey to the dark side begins in the year 1983. The Los Angeles Lakers were playing the Philadelphia 76ers for the NBA title. Now here you may say, "Shouldn't you have cheered for the 76ers? At least they were an east coast team." And I would say to you, "This is my story so just shut the fuck up and let me tell it." Anyway, where was I before I was so rudely interrupted?...oh yes, 1983. Now I was actually torn between which team to root for. The 76ers had the infamous Julius "Dr J" Erving while the Lakers had Earvin "Magic" Johnson. My dilemma was trying to figure out which thoroughly cool nickname I should be pulling for.


Ultimately, I think it came down to these key elements. 1) I think a 10 year old is always more interested in seeing "Magic" than in seeing a "Doctor." 2) The Lakers also had a team nickname of "Showtime." I mean come on. How cool is that?! A team nickname. And it's "Showtime." It tells you quite plainly that you will be in for a show. And who doesn't like a show? 3) Lastly, at the time, I was convinced that my uncle bore a striking resemblance to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. Now how could I not root for family.


One night, all of the men-folk in my family gathered at my aunt's and her husband's house to watch one of the games. My uncles, stepfather, aunt's husband, and several of their friends were all in attendance. It truly is my only memory of when the men in my family, exclusively, got together. I think the women were cooking meat or forming a sewing circle or something. I really can't say and it really didn't matter. It was all about the boys. I also remember that there was a great schism. My uncles were pulling for the Lakers. My stepfather was pulling for the Sixers. Brothers were pitted against brothers. Friends against friends. I wasn't pitted against anyone in particular because there was no one in my age bracket with whom I could verbally spar. And even if there were, I really hadn't developed the ability to match wits at age 10. (At least, not about sports) But since I had, in fact, chosen a side, I felt personally involved any boasts, taunts, or proclamations that were made. In the end, one side left jubilant while the other was completely demoralized. I remember that Moses Malone was simply unstoppable which infuriated me. Ultimately, the Lakers were swept in 4 straight games.


Now here's the part where I get real with you. I mean really real. So brace yourself because you may be shocked, appalled, or indifferent. As you may or may not know, Baltimore is a city that is comprised mostly of whites and blacks. There really isn't much of the in between. It's certainly not what I would call diverse. And as a result of an incredibly long history that I'm definitely not going into (I think you can figure it out. Think South. Think Blacks and Whites.), there was an inherent, let's say tension between the two races.


Why do I bring this up? Because in 1984, the Lakers would return to the NBA Championship to face none other than the Boston Celtics. The absolute whitest franchise in the history of all sports. Even their black players had a certain air of whiteness about them. Don't ask me to explain it. It's just something that I felt at the time. The bottom line is that there was no way in hell that an 11 year old black kid from Baltimore was going to root for the Boston Celtics. It would have been something akin to cheering for segregation. And that doesn't make any sense at all.


Well for those of you who remember your basketball history, you will recall that the Lakers were defeated by the Boston Nazis in 7 games. It was a crushing defeat for the Laker fan. Especially after having suffered the ignominy of being swept in the previous year. And there was one other terrifying aspect of this game that I recall. When the final game ended, and Boston had officially won, every single fan in Boston Garden stormed onto the basketball court in an excited frenzy. It was just this massive wave of people that consumed the players on the court. Thankfully, no one was hurt but it was frightening to watch. I can only imagine what it must have been like to have been there. As a result, I was able to come to this one, irrefutable conclusion. Boston fans are assholes. There I said it.

The following year, I refused to give up on the Lakers. Since I had followed them, they had gone to the big dance twice and come up short both times. I knew that they had it in them. I continued to believe in the power of "Showtime." The year was 1985. Now at this point, there were no further get-togethers with the men folk. Maybe people were a little too busy. Maybe friends had grown apart. Some people had moved away. But I was determined to stick it out. I would watch each game with an undying loyalty. I would keep the tradition alive even if no one else was interested. And it was then, in 1985, that the Lakers defeated the Boston Celtics 4 games to 2. Kareem Abdul Jabbar was named Finals MVP. All was right with the world. I was finally given the chance to celebrate an NBA victory.

Since then I have always been a strong supporter of the Lakers franchise. It has provided me with many uplifting and heartbreaking moments over the years. Magic Johnson's game-winning, junior sky hook shot in 1987. James Worthy's dominant performance in 1988. The gut-wrenching sweep from the Pistons in 1989. The passing of the torch to the new dynasty known as the Chicago Bulls in 1991. (Which was doubly heartbreaking because one of my uncles decided to jump on the Michael Jordan bandwagon that year and thus abandon is Laker attachments) The complete and total shock of Magic Johnson's sudden retirement due to HIV. The arrival of Shaquille O'Neal. A player who I couldn't stand but was admittedly the most dominant player in the game. The emergence of a new dynasty with Shaq and Kobe leading the way. The fall from grace as Shaq and Kobe just couldn't find a way to get along and went their separate ways. The Lakers failure to make it out of the first round of the playoffs ever since. The barrage of injuries that plagued the team last year and this year. And the arrival of another All-Star caliber player, Pau Gasol, who has breathed new life into my precious team. And the excitement at the possibility of having a very successful playoff run.

When I was working at (ugh) Applebee's, I was shocked and appalled at how many people were anti-Lakers. Granted, Karl Malone was playing with them at the time. (And I really despise Karl Malone. God, what were they thinking?!) But it was still the Lakers. One woman said to me, "I liked them in the '80's, but I don't like this team."

Well, maybe it's just me. Maybe I have too long of a memory. Maybe what happened in the '80's should have just stayed in the 80's. But I don't believe that. I'm just not that type of person. If something or someone was truly special to you, I don't think you can just disregard it so easily. Even if they're not around anymore. Memories are precious. Memories of special moments with my family, in my case, are somewhat rare. Which for me, also makes them just a little bit sacred. Maybe it's silly to love the team of a city that you've never been to. But then again, think about how amazing it will feel to be there when they win again. To follow the journey from start to finish. To truly value what is happening. And to stick with it. No matter what. And on top of that, to have that slight feeling that you're sharing that journey with those special people who you don't see as much of, or who you will never see again.

Go Lakers!