Two Weeks Later...

BEFORE THE GAME:

The Suns' "defense" is a con game. It looks soft, like they contest very little and prevent even less, and you can find stats that bear that out. But the Suns really only care about stopping two things: dribble penetration and assists. That's why they play two steps back instead of climbing into your shorts. They'd rather obstruct your passing lane and/or leave themselves room to stop your drive than contest a mid-range jump shot.

One-on-one jumpshots are relatively low percentage, and relatively few guys can create their own shots. That means bad shots and fewer of them.

Kobe Bryant, who is the best in the league at creating and making his own jumpshots, is going to clean up against this team, and that is what Phil Jackson is worried about. No matter how much tape they show him of how this trap works, Kobe is not going to pass out of a jumpshot he thinks he can make (and that's most of them). The offense will stagnate, and the Suns will run away with the game.

The Lakers transition D is not consistent enough to survive a jumpshooting contest with the Suns; particularly not if Mr. Bryant carries almost half the scoring load - which he has in all three of their losses.

DURING THE GAME:

Half-time at Lakers v Suns, game 1. Finally, NBA play-offs and life has true meaning again! I'm wearing one of the lucky shirts, I have my traditional drink of orange juice with just a dash of whisky (it's still early afternoon) in my Suns' mug, and the millionaires are playing together on national television.

Three out of four times that the Lakers have played the Suns this season, Kobe Bryant had monster games, and the Lakers lost. Somebody in Laker Land has been paying attention to that. At the half, Kobe only has 7 points, having made a clearly deliberate effort to get his teammates involved. Smush Parker leads all scorers as a result, and the Lakers have put together a balanced effort. They have particularly worked hard to get the ball to Lamar Odom and Kwame Brown in the paint, where conventional wisdom holds the Suns are vulnerable. They dropped some passes and missed some lay-ups, but the ABC commentators are convinced they will start making those shots any time now.

The trouble is on the other end. Kwame Brown has been standing in the lane watching Tim Thomas plunk wide open threes, and Odom sometimes forgets that Shawn Marion must be guarded as much without the ball as with it, particularly if Nash gets into the paint. And, despite Smush Parker's best efforts, Nash is getting into the paint whenever he faces single coverage.

Suns are up by eight. Gotta take out the garbage before the car commercials stop.

AFTER THE GAME:

The encouraging news is that even though the Suns won, they didn't think they played all that well. The disturbing news is that the win was much closer than it needed to be. This whole balanced-attack-maybe-it's-a-team-sport-after-all approach the Lakers tried almost produced an upset victory for them.

The Suns were saved by free throws. Yes, the team with the fewest free throw attempts in the league went to the line 35 times. And since they, perversely, have the highest free throw percentage in the league, they made 32 of them, which was crucial to winning a game where they were otherwise out-shot and out-rebounded on their home court.

The Lakers real trouble, though, is this new dance partner is not the one that brought them to the party. They made it to the play-offs on Kobe Bryant's back. With fewer shot attempts, Bryant never really found his rhythm, particularly in the fourth quarter. If they had played like this all year, they almost certainly would have seeded higher.

Playoffs, though, are a poor venue for innovation. A sudden shift in tactics can get you a game or two, but it almost never wins a series. When things get desperate, you go back to what got you here. Mr. Bryant could set a new play-off record right before his team is eliminated.