#TheIversonSeries CREED

Street Of Philadelphia.

By TIM DAVID HARVEY

"Let me tell you something you already know. The world ain't all sunshine and rainbows. It's a very mean and nasty place and I don't care how tough you are it will beat you to your knees and keep you there permanently if you let it. You, me, or nobody is gonna hit as hard as life. But it ain't about how hard ya hit. It's about how hard you can get hit and keep moving forward. How much you can take and keep moving forward. That's how winning is done!"-Sylvester Stallone (Rocky Balboa)

THWACK!

"Look at those tattoo's"!

UNNF!

"Those cornrows"!

SLAP!

"This f###### kid"!

BOOM!

"He's just a criminal"!

BANG!

Inked on his arms and all round his whole body to his heart and soul are a thousand stories that tell more words than the critics prose could ever proliferate. Their ink is gone with yesterdays newspaper, only to be recycled again and again like headlines or head-lice. The creed of his tattoos last for life. Forever like engraved stone. Artistically woven like the seams of a leather basketball pressed against his forehead is hair braided like they've never seen before. Streamlined. Cornrowed. Cool A.F. They saw the size of this kid and tried to slight him. But you want to know the skinny? Forget the physical. Psychologically he was an Adonis. They always underestimate the hearts of men. If the greatest of all time, Michael Jordan was the Marvin Gaye of Basketball than number 3 was 2Pac. Top five dead or alive. And that was just off one 82. You've heard the Jadakiss lines. Don't be throwing around thrones and get out the kitchen. You can't stand the heat. And to think they labelled him a convict just for '40 Bars' or his rap-sheet of sticking up for his friends. Taking his rap and doing his time. Don't wait until there's none left to appreciate. We lost too many legends this year. Ali, Price. But just like them this Class Of '16 member from the one from '96's soul and style will never die. Forget going out of fashion.

Allen Iverson was never afraid to be Allen Iverson. Because there was no one like him. More than one in a million. The first Georgetown Hoya that wasn't built like a Patrick Ewing, Alonzo Mourning, or future anti-Shaq and Kobe sidekick Dikembe Mutombo. And John Thompson loved this guy like a son. Even when hate came from every alley following that bowling incident. Because Ezail was more than the picture they tried to put him in. Or even the frame. So much so he almost made it in another game. But forget touchdowns because this kid had to change this game. And he did the moment he crossed over number 23. Magic! But Mike. The torch never gets passed in this 1-On-1 game. It has to be taken. Just ask E.J. Now the only shot you'll get of this boys mug is one of him holding up a suit jacket stitched with a crest that reads, 'Hall Of Fame'. They finally got him to wear one. And it took Naismith to do it for the guy that re-invented basketball from the icon that would have rather worn cargo pants than Stockton shorts. And you thought Shaq's closet was big.

Even when he stands between peers and pillars of his generation this weekend in Shaq and Yao Ming, A.I. will once again show that size doesn't mean s###! He's the one that started this so-called today's small-ball revolution. And you want to talk about cooking up records? His simmering passion took one from that new milleniuum, championship Lakers that almost swept and dusted off their trophy cabinet to an unbeatable legend of Larry that almost flew like Bird. Your David to your classic Goliath tale. A greater Philadelphia story than Rocky. Basketball's Balboa! Philly's greatest sporting icon since the fictional fighter. With all due respect to the Basketball God Moses, or the good Doctor you must see. Because did you ever see this true warrior on a stretcher? You can't count the number of times they counted him out. Or all the hits he took as they knocked him down. But he always came up swinging! Shadowboxing with God. Crossing over Jesus. All with the blinged out piece round his neck. The same place they wanted to hang the word "criminal". Not guilty. But still he kept running. Kept rising! Kept going. Running all through the streets of Philadelphia like Springsteen for Hanks. Cracking concrete like Liberty. All until the final bell rang. Last night at the Apollo. The city of brotherly loves creed. The other Michael Jordan like B. No 2K17 for his career. For real he ran all the way up those Philly Rocky steps like Sly. Stepping over Tyrone Lue so cold, so cruel on the way. All the way to the stone sunmit where everyone jumps. But he just put a hand to his ear and screamed.

Now who's the champ?

You know the answer!

"Now, if you know what you're worth, then go out and get what you're worth. But you gotta be willing to take the hits, and not pointing fingers saying you ain't where you wanna be because of him, or her, or anybody. Cowards do that and that ain't you. You're better than that! I'm always gonna love you, no matter what. No matter what happens. You're my son and you're my blood. You're the best thing in my life. But until you start believing in yourself, you ain't gonna have a life."

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 Ingram's 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 squinting 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 left there, 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...

#TheLeBronSeries HOMECOMING

The King Retakes His Throne...Again.

By TIM DAVID HARVEY

"I'm home...I'm home"!

There's no place like it.

A huddle a million strong. All their hands in unison reaching towards that one goal. That light of day. To touch that gold that seems as far away as the rising sun. But no fingertip reaches higher than the one pointing the way. The one leading. The one they all ride with. The one that made the promise to his land when he came back. That he would get one for his Ohio home. The town that deserves it. The place that's worked hard for this. The city of Cleveland. You know the classic black and white Nike commerical as epic as the King's promise to his people. Well LeBron James has just done it for his Cavaliers and the city of Cleveland.

Together!

And as the hand finally touches the game winning ball that turns from leather to gold it falls away like it does down his face. As LeBron collapses between the huddle to the floor with a million eyes on him as his let even more tears fall. Right onto the centre C of the Cleveland Cavalier mid-court. 23 almost looks like M.J. Can't you see? He's just that legendary. His latest chapter just that storied. As a matter of fact in an association of history full of them-that even this year saw the farewell of number 24 Kobe Bryant from Lakerland and their California neighbours the Golden State Warriors eclipsing Michael Jordan's Chicago Bulls regular season wins with 73 W's-this one just may be the sweetest and best...ever!

There's no homecoming like it...not even Spiderman's return to Marvel. In this Civil War LeBron's just become an Avenger. He's Iron Man and Captain America. Batman and Superman. Justice has seen the dawn. Add this one to our 'Superhero Season'. Like a perfect script but no fix. No wonder the Finals MVP beat the league one Steph Curry...unamiously. It may have taken all four quarters of all seven games but they did it. LeBron James did it! Erasing a major 52 year sports title drought in Cleveland and an all-time one when it comes to basketball for the Cavaliers first ever championship. And the first victory in NBA history for a team coming back from an almost, until now impossible 3-1 defecit. The Warriors had the strength in numbers and home court advantage with a three game cushion...but they won't get any sleep tonight with this rest. Cleveland may be finally going home now...but they're going home with the gold they took from the state of California.

The champagne's on the King now. And everybody except the likes of Dray and Klay are celebrating. Part owner Usher takes his place on the team podium. Whereas actor/singer Jamie Foxx can be witnessed posting grams with his arms spread out underneath the 'Bron banner outside Quicken. Even Grammy winning R&B singer Tank is so excited he's posting videos of him whooping and running down his street, hollering players names. Let it pop like those scuba goggles. LeBron went all in. 27 and 11 times two. Not to mention the biggest, brutually dominating dunk of his career and three of the best, B.I.G. blocks you'll ever see against all the Warriors big threes as the King and all his Irving and Love men prevailed. The third player in Game 7 Finals history following purple heart and gold winners Jerry West and James Worthy to record these type of numbers on the box score. A trip doub on the Dubs that's Big Game enough to make King James the new logo of this league. You remember the classic SLAM cover?! No not the throwback one that this weeks drafts number one pick and future franchise star Ben Simmons paid bible of Basketball tribute to. This is even more vintage. Book it! And check the history ones. It's engraved in stone now Larry legend. And you thought it was the small ball revolution?! Well...we saw something else televised. The return of the King. The Lord of the Rings. They've taken the little ones. One doesn't simply stroll into Oakland's Oracle and leave with a ring...

...unless they're the King!

And James is just that and one more thing...a champion with the cap to match.

Sweating champagne. Bleeding pain. And crying joy. All the substance he put into this. All the years. All the fear.

And you thought he was done....that was last year.

This one? He's the one.

Rematch...revenge...redemption.

Jame returns to the throne, returning home.

Welcome back King!

#CourtsideColumn THE FINALS CHAPTER

Games On.

By TIM DAVID HARVEY

What does early June mean to you? That last exam? The end of school or college maybe? A couple of weeks from that holiday you've been working towards all year? It could be anything but what does early June mean to an NBA player?

It means the final destination of the year for two NBA teams out of sixteen who endured the tough, long season and a play hard or go home playoff campaign. It means that one of these two teams will write their names in the NBA history books where the other team will merely remain an afterthought. It's about the NBA Finals and it will end with the champion team reaping all the glory and the success that every team worked hard for but that only one team can obtain.

It means more than the commercials, no matter how hot they are. It's truly amazing. It means more than the sneakers, no matter how nice those hyperdunks may be. It means more than all the big trades and news stories that dominate the 82 game long season instead of just being a sidebar. It means more than the state of the art, awe inspiring arenas, coupled with the money made off merchandise and the concessions, although there's not much that beats a Friday night big game with a brew and your closest. It means more than the emphatic player introductions, fireworks and in game entertainment, although that does get you fired up. It means more then the cheerleaders, although they do look real nice. It means more than the celebrities in the Jack Nicholson seats, dominating the first rows, although there's not much cooler than seeing Larry David sitting next to Spike Lee.

It means more than the expensive suits, and grown up, dress code envelope pushing fashions of the players arriving to the game. It even means more than the multi-million dollar endorsement deals and recession defying bidding wars for advertising space between timeouts. It even means more than any single player gracing the court that night. With all respect to the elite superstars of the league. It means more than almost every home fan wearing the same players jersey, this is all about every player on the floor and on the bench giving their all-as one-for a common goal. This is because what all it comes down too is the game itself, which for the majority of players, coaches and personnel will be the biggest game of their lives.

It's deeper then the midseason grind of a 10 game road trip. Its more vivid then the dream of a kid emulating a Jordan buzzer beater on the streets, his friend by his side assuming the role of the commentator, line for line like it was an infamous quote from a movie. For the two teams that make it you may have come close and tasted it before, but now you have first class reservations. It doesn't matter how long you've dreamed and waited for this moment you better be ready, because its here now.

No matter what happened this season, no matter how many games previously you won or lost it doesn't matter. No matter which journalist wrote you off or which pundit championed you it doesn’t matter as its all about now. It's all about the next four to seven games. It's about every second from the tip to the buzzer. It's about every loose ball, every hustle, steal, charge, foul, free throw and every point whether made on the scoreboard or on the tone of the series. It's about the game as strategic as chess and as unpredictable and free as Jazz (word to Utah). It's about your heart, your enthusiasm your drive. It's all about how much you really want to win, because if your desires not as strong as your opponents then you simply wont win.

It's all about your chance to go down in history, it's all about those 'amazing' moments. It's all about Magic's junior sky-hook or his playing centre and leading his team to the 'chip in the absence of Kareem Abdul Jabbar. Its all about “Who caught it?”, “Havlicek”! It's about warriors of the game like Willis Reed carrying his team on one leg. It's all about playing hard and prevailing over Bill Laimbeer and the rest of the Detroit Pistons who fight so tough. It's all about balloons falling on your floor with no one there to celebrate because you tempted fate to much in the face of Celtic pride.

It's about defying expectations, breaking rules, going against the grain. It's about not caring that no team has come back from a deficit of so many games, because your not going home tonight. It's about being wrote off completely and ignoring all put downs. It's when a strong team and unit defeats and almost sweeps a team with four Hall of Famer's on it. It's about every game counting. It's all about David beating Goliath at least once, draining it from deep whilst stepping over Tyronn Lue (nows your chance for revenge coach!). It's about after a decade of never touching glory crying tears of joy one year to not one year later sitting in a suit and watching your team being eliminated. It's all about worst to first, best to least.

It's about Larry O'Brien, its about those fingers on your hands waiting for those rings. It's all about the same dream you had as a kid. It's all about working on your dream all day long and then bouncing your worn out Spalding against a poster of Larry Bird when it got too dark and cold to play outside. It's that dream that you would of spent all day as a kid chasing if it wasn't for knowing if you didn't respond to the next time your mum called you inside there would be hell to pay. It's about what means the world to you, what gets you out the bed, to the gym, to the court or just even what gets you to subscribe to the NBA League pass. Then again this is just basketball right? After all this is just the NBA Finals, just what you've been waiting all year to watch and just what the two teams have been waiting their whole lives for to play.

Get Ready.

#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 actually 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 what we had.

But after two decades, one last season of winding down, farewell tour games, four final quarters and a buzzer horn 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 thank 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. Giving Dwight Howard and Steve Nash a baptism before they ever christened the L.A. court as Lakers. 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!

From Boston to Beans town there are 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 to (or should we say didn't) when former teammate, than a foe Matt Barnes tried to inbound the ball in 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 THE GRATEFUL EIGHT/FOREVER 24

24/8

By TIM DAVID HARVEY.

Face it beans, it's almost over! The chips are well and truly down. The games almost in the refrigerator and you know all too well about the jello. Soon the man that will join the legendary Los Angeles Laker legacy making likes of Chickie, Magic, Kareem, the Logo and his old Wild West partner Shaq in a forum of bronze in the purple heart of the downtown City of Lost Angels will retire. That will be it! Day called. No more purple reign in So Cal. But as Kobe Bryant hangs up those Nikes which of his iconic purple and gold jerseys will be worthy enough to be raised to the Big Game, silk, stilted rafters with the likes of the aformentioned, Jaamal Wilkes, James Worthy, Gail Goodrich, Elgin Baylor and of course Wilt Chamberlain, the 100 point man who only Kobe got as close to like Jordan!?

Eight Wonder.

In the last Great Western days when the Lakers played in their Ingelwood, white pillared colliseum and still rocked their Showtime 80's uniforms with the purple and white lined piping, it was an 18 year old kid with an afro and sunglasses to match that was the hottest thing in California and Lakers attire in the 90's not named Rene Russo. Some didn't get this shorty but after many Jazz to Utah's ears airballs made him be cool, he went ultra Travolta when he found his Saturday Night, Grease slick rhythm. There was the Slam Dunk contest win back in the bald M.J. days where this young Airness didn't even bother to work out of his warm-ups and then there was the move. The major shift like number 23 laying it up in the line, changing hands. New digs, new unis and a new approach saw Kobe leap into Shaq's arms before the death of a dynasty rocked these fellas as he won his first championship and then went all Lionel Richie, once, twice, thrice times a Larry O'Brien lover for the Mike like threepeat. If that wasn't enough once Big Daddy took his talents to the Heat of South Beach, this little red Corvette and Prince that would be King busted through all sorts of brick walls, car jumping like he ran off Diesel and not Aristotle. Then if that wasn't enough Kobe Bryant almost jumped over the Big Dipper...forget Jumpman. Over Drake's Toronto Raptors a decade ago when Aubrey Graham was just a teen T.V. show idol, the Black Mamba finally found his venom sinking more points into Canada then he did against the Mavericks of Dallas just a few weeks, three quarters and 62 points ago. If you want to put Kobe Bryant's number 8 number up in the championship banner ceiling, where you can't even find the range of his talent, you just may want to add a one next to it.

24 Carat Purple & Gold.

One over Jordan. That's what people think. But Kobe Bryant's counting up to number 24 represented more than that, or number 23 for the man that chose his Lower Merion High School digits before 33 (which obviously Kobe couldn't rock because of Kareem). It meant redemption. The post Diesel and Zen age that saw Kobe reunite with...well Phil Jackson. And then D-Fish, class of '96. Before being fast and furious nitrus injected with some real championship Gasoline in the form of his second partner in victory crime Pau Gasol. But let's not forget number seven who got them to heaven (we see you Lamar Odom...stay on the up!). Kobe took the number 24 and a real 15 to go for his one goal. Two more of the same thing Gollum found so precious. But this Vino was more Voldermort as he looked to wizard his way to being the NBA's Lord of the Rings...he even dressed up as the big, bad with no nose from 'Harry Potter' for Halloween. But Kobe had one for the legend of Larry...scary huh?! The perfect villain. It was no more Mr. Nice Guy for the most competitive player since the hero from Chicago that wore a gold rope around his neck. But forget the great debate between the constant Kobe against Mike, head-to-head comparisons. What if Bryant played himself? Young vs old. Number 8 versus number 24. Vino V Bean. Batman against the Dark Knight. Forget the Man of Steel, Superman! From father calling time (no Jellybean) to injury crippling prime, Kobe's been fighting enough of himself and his own demons over the last few years and closing chapters of his career. Twenty four hours a day. Get it? Eight days a week?! To be one of basketballs Beatles in a fab four with the real, only big-three of Michael, Magic and Bird. Perhaps his greatest victory wasn't the one soaked in sweat and champagne but the one drenched and drowned in perspiration and pain. How he's bled purple...not just lived gold. And oh how has be aspired to prevail. Through tearing rotator cuff to pushing his achillies back into place, getting back up like Rocky, hitting two free throws back before walking off on his own terms, when most would tear up in a wheelchair. Can you roll and rock with that? Kobe's been more than a peach with the orange basketball son. He's been everything between a hard place. And when he's finally put down like the doberman this Olympian athlete is...I say put both up there.

Number 8? Number 24? I don't care! Kobe Bryant will always be the one!

And done!

#SuperheroSeason DeMARCUS COUSINS Feature-THE PUNISHER

B.D.P.

By TIM DAVID HARVEY

'There's a man going round taking names. And he decides who to free and who to blame. Not everyone will be treated the same.' You know the rest...when the man comes around. Hear the trumpets, hear the cowbells. More! It's punishing isn't it? One batch! Two batch. Treating all his enemies like penny and dime. Critics, opponents? They're all change to a dozen. Number 15 adds up to more. 20 and 10. One batch. Two batch. You can't call that penny and dime. Word on the street is there's a new major player in the NBA. The shooter as independent as they come. Tracking teams to their home court and taking them out with military precision. With enough floor knowledge and statistical hardware to take out any basketball city. This game is about to explode. BANG! Maybe everyone in this league created him. Don't think there's a connection? Perhaps all of the Steph Curry 'Daredevils' of the association opened the door for big men like this. Don't get caught in his crossfire. Blood is being shed and he's given more than his fair share. The city of Sacramento needs him and he's going to take care of them. No matter who or what stands in his way. You hit them and they get back up...he hits them and they STAY down! Why is he doing this? Because everything else is a half measure. This man has what it takes to get the job done. This man is no coward. You know he's one good day away from being the best. Hero or anti-not he's still super this season. Still a Marvel. To be Frank, DeMarcus Cousins is The Punisher. The King of his castle in Sacto, California. Yep that's right Mr. Bernthal. This is for you Jon. Go get those crossed bones like you sold us that pen off Wall Street. In S.K. away black that headband may as well be a skull cap. He's the symbol of bringing the pain to a soft league. Ride and do or die. He's cocked and loaded. Locked, stocked and two smoking barrels...and that's just his arms. Watch DMC run and he inks more...

Now walk this way. DMC is the King when it comes to this rocks hard game. Like Balboa this Rocky's Creed is incredible. This kids a fighter. Best award nomination or not...word to Michael Jordan B. It's not about how hard you get hit. It's about how hard you get hit and GET back up. And this guy is tougher than basketball leather with the jacket like Run-TMC. Yep that's right we mean Tim Hardaway, Mitch Richmond and Chris Mullin. Now they were the Golden State of real Warriors. Well this DMC know how to raise hell like his game was born in the 90's too. Everyone else are just suckers in comparison. You can't rock this guy out the box when he leads the bounce. He rocks the house! Can you rock it like this? You be 'illin like a Dr. J 'touchdown'. It's like that and that's the way it is. Just wait until he develops a hook! Then it will all be over like the bridge for B.D.P. That's just how prolific Boogie's down low productions are. He's the one like KRS. Out for the win by any means necessary all X's and O's. Don't think of him as criminal minded. His philosphy is necessary. His business...poetry. Taking all that tries to beat him back to elementary. That's our word like we're his sponser. But trust us this is the sound of a beast. One that's on a higher level. Don't blame everything on the boogie these nights. He's bringing sunshine and good times back to the coast of California, making Sacramento a wonderland. He's the Earth, Wind and Fire of the Kings organisation...as powerful and destructive as the elements. Want any more reasons to put him on your fantasy? Blowing and burning it all down. Ashes to ashes. Dust to dust. Lay it down. He's the one true King in this town. Give him the crown in this Game of Thrones. The kingdom awaits as heads roll from opponents in opposition, all the way to the fans in the stands.

Relate to Cousins like your uncles son because this guy is family now. Distant kin of Charles Barkley but with more mound to his rebound. More force than fun. Chuck may have chucked a guy through a window after a bar fight but this guy battles for the glass with the best. You saw him stand up for himself against Kevin Durant. Even amongst the downpour of a thunder storm he wont back down from the best. But he still shows restraint...its a good job for Steven Adams that we all discovered that. This guys no punk...he's a pro...albeit a professional one. The best of the best to ever do it and make artwork in the paint that will last on the court canvas of the Hall of Fame's gallery know it. Know this King is the new Chris Webber of Sacramento going fourth, strong but smooth on the inside with some out too. Former teammate of C-Webb and Sacramento's General Manager Vlade Divac knows this. As does former opponent and Kings part owner Shaquille O'Neal (and you by George, best believe Coach Karl does too...no matter what everyone thinks. You, him, her!). And Boggie's moves definitly have help and inspiration from these two former playing, legendary Los Angeles Lakers centres. From Divac's flair for the all-round running the floor of the FIBA international game, to the pure petroleum power of the Diesel. Oh and both those big men were perfect point passes like they were off guards. Soon you wont just know D.C. as a 20 and 10 guy. You can take 5 too. One through five, through fifteen this is what this all round team needs too to bolster their raw but real roster. Featuring the legendary role playing likes of the 'Tuff Juice' defensive dogging of Caron Butler to the have points will travel, All-Star journeyman gunner Rudy Gay and the happy go shot lucky future of Seth Curry whose on the same coast as some big brother of his. And then of course we can't forget the alumni.

Country cousins isn't just familiar with King purple. His heart belongs to the Big Blue Nation. As this former Wildcat wildcard who clawed away with Coach Caps boys is a Kentucky king too. U.K. all day like England. He's united in the kingdom of men who made it over the walls of Rupp arena. Teammates and freshman to be alike. Legacy makers who now make the league like everyone from Washington Wizard John Wall and Phoenix Sun Eric Bledsoe. To Los Angeles Laker sophomore Julius Randle, to one of this years top rookies, Willie Cauley-Stein, drafted by...drum roll please...the Sacramento Kings. Forming a future force of a formidable, frontcourt frontline with his new Sacramento brother Cousins. But this perfect partnership isn't the dynamite, dynamic duo these young princes run on however. That would be the Kentucky court connection of DeMarcus' pick and the roll of pass first, prototype Point Guard Rajon Rondo, quarterbacking the now and later of this franchise. Making for quite the team and one of the leagues best double acts complete with matching headbands and varsity gear. But if you want to talk about a real Kentucky connection crossover and contemporary then look no futher to the line of joining hair above the New Orleans Pelicans franchise faces line of sight. Because in this 'things done changed', new era of notorious bigs the only one better than this bad boy is the Ant-Man Anthony Davis. Sure Wilt and Bill this isn't Chamberlain and Russell, but in this small ball, present tense league its still a revolution amongst all this Curry and other Kings and a far cry from the Shaq vs hack from every fouling out rotated player above 6, 10 age. The numbers speak for themselves. 27.3 points, 11.3 rebounds and 3.2 assists and countless nightly and career highs that brutalise the box score like he does interior defenders. Sure most brilliant big men mount up numbers that make their court vision 20 and 10, but in foresight just how great could 30 and 10 be? It would be the old engine of this running league, under the hood of some Fast and Furious nitrus. Flip the switch because this young mans rumble is changing the game. He's a knockout. Putting them all down. Now hows that for punishment in this NBA war zone...with a capital D.M.C.?! Click...clack...BANG!