#CourtsideColumn DUNKING IN L.A.

Showteens.

L.A.X. Welcome to Los Angeles, California. Hollywood. The home of movies and stars. Now as we make our descent on our runway, look to your left and you may see someone running like that time Leonardo DiCaprio took off from his Pan Am flight and told Tom Hanks 'Catch Me If You Can'. Ready to fly it could be a bird, a Griffin, or even a Jordan. And whose controlling all this air traffic? A man holding a basketball instead of those two ping pong bats. Some call him CP3. The Lakers almost called him theirs. Until NBA commissioner David Stern was involved in a nixing scandal, no Watergate, but no water under the bridge. See Los Angeles will always be Lakerland but in recent years from news clippings to barbershop ones the Los Angles Clippers have claimed their home town as their own. Even renaming it as the red, white and Buffalo blue have taken some of the gold gleam from the purple reigned heart of the City of Angels. But who would have thought that the retirement of one of the greatest ever, let alone the West best L.A., Kobe Bryant would be the thing that truly brought the Lakers back from the brink?

And now they're about to take Lob City...and make it theirs!

Last night in a coastal Californian clash the Lakers lost to the Western Conference champion and NBA finalist, almost Kevin Durant guranteed next seasons title, the Golden State Warriors. Nothing new there. You can see it one more time this week in preseason, or even three times in November for the season. But what you really should have seen was a reflection. From Draymond Green to Julius Randle. Superstar signing, big ticket Kevin Durant to number two lottery draft pick Brandon Ingram. And the Splash Brothers to the Swag Brodies. Sure these Laker men in the mirror may look like Warrior wannabes, but they're actually an even more run ready "death line-up" that could run this small ball revolution association into the ground.

Yeah Chris Paul's lane and alley to the big oops and "aah's" of beasts Blake Griffin and DeAndre Jordan may be the big L.A. blockbuster franchise to marvel at right now in Hollywood. But you don't need to go to the Venice Beach boardwalks or courts to see something more athletic, unless it's a rookie GQ photo-op shoot. All you do is have to walk across the STAPLES hall to the Lakers lockers to see that Purple and Gold men can jump too. Of course we all know the parentage and lineage of Larry Nance Jr. The nightly highlight reel is about to be a star in his own show and right, but when it comes to above the rim this man has all eyes on him like 2Pac. He should have been in the Slam Dunk Contest last season. This year he'll win it.

But junior isn't the only one who can get up. Have you seen rookie Ingram's coast to coast wingspan? They call the kid thin, but in the thick of it this buck fifty soaking wet could reach for the rim, all whilst putting all his teammates jerseys out on the line for washing...and maybe even pin his number 14 one up there in the rafters with 24 or 8 whilst he's at it. Everyone can get it and get it good. From Brown to Black, Ant and Tarik. New bigs Mozgov and Zubac. Even All-Star veteran Luol Deng still has some hop. Whilst Randle can handle the rock like that as Julius channels the good doctor. It's all going to be like the freewheeling ABA once Jose Calderon and Marcelo Huertas know whose starting the break like the first person to leave a coffee shop past putting the chairs on the table closing. That is if they don't defer to clutch Sixth Man spark shooters Nick Young and old Lou Williams mind. Of course in reality it will be the Brodie backcourt of D'Angelo Russell and Jordan Clarkson leading the fast break amd their still young enough to ride the rim and rock away themselves, even if they don't seem tall enough.

And when the Lakers go real small and ball out with a line-up of Clarkson, Russell, Randle and Nance Jr and Ingram flanking then it'll really be over. Talking about a revolution? This 'Death Lineup' stat sheet scout reads more like a eulogy for other teams, delivered in gold from the Buss brass. Now before you can say, "what the hell are they doing dunking in L.A." like a drunk Bran Van 3000 this franchise flipped script surprise is giving you a new Hollywood Frat Pack picture set to run and run. Until this Academy of gifted youngsters in this superhero star age become Oscar gold winners. Act up! TIM DAVID HARVEY.

2016/2017 LOS ANGELES LAKERS-NBA SEASON PREVIEW

60 points from Kobe Bryant really was the end of an era in Los Angeles for a franchise that in the last ten years had just celebrated six decades in the association. As the Laker legend played his final game in purple and gold on his retirement tour, farewell season, not only did he hang up his sneakers and raise his jersey into the Hall of Fame rafters. He also finally closed the locker room door on his banner eras with Shaquille O'Neal. For some Los Angeles Times that made Shaq and Kobe one of the best one-two, big man and small guard dynamic duos in NBA history. For a storied Laker franchise who from Wilt Chamberlain and Jerry West to Kareem Abdul-Jabbar and Magic Johnson have had many legends in that Laker legacy making gold light.

Now the torch is passed to the former role player that connected the two with his amazing assists, Luke Walton and his staff of three-peat veterans from Brian Shaw to mad dancing Mark Madsen to lead this team in a new direction like a guard. But the point forward and son of Bill is now one of the youngest coaches in a youth in revolt league. Taking over from 80's Showtime legend Byron Scott and coming off some assistant experience with the California champion Golden State Warriors. Including some inspired interim at the head, remaining unbeatable in place of a rehabing Steve Kerr to begin last season. In a new era that has moved away from bigs thanks to MVP Steph Curry and the Dubs, Walton is the perfect member of the Lakers family to lead their own death line-up in this new NBA small ball revolution.

They could really kill it. Like they've done in the last few drafts, hitting the lottery with their new big tickets. Mixing the right top ten picks with some late round, slept on steals the Lakers have quite the young raw core. Now through trades and free agent years patient fans just hope the Buss brass can Kupchak keep this nucleus for the future intact. First they brought in Kentucky bruiser Julius Randle who as a third year man now really is shaping into a Draymond Green tough guy. But in his first injury plauged rookie season it was actually Jordan Clarkson who made an impact. And now the late first rounder is widely considered the best Laker. Even Kobe knew you couldn't go wrong with a first name like that. Last year the purple team struck gold with the second lottery pick in the draft. And after this perfect preseason the matured D'Angelo Russell looks to be the right choice to be the number one to lead the Lakers from the front of his jersey. Now don't put your phones away because you're going to want to record all he does. Kid is even cooking up Chef Curry comparisons from Walton. Speaking of family relations in the NBA, the slam dunk champ son Larry Nance Jr. is doing more than just dunking in L.A. The athletic fast break starter and finisher really brings something to both ends of the court that is seeing his famous name being put up there in Hollywood lights.

And if Ivica Zubac becomes the Gasol like player the Laker should have kept in Pau or drafted brother Marc, (coincidentally traded for his older sibling back in the day), thanks to some sky-hook and sinker training from legend Kareem Abdul-Jabbar then he'll be the teams third sleeper steal in a row. But all eyes are on second, second pick in a row Brandon Ingram who really could be the post-Kobe future face of this franchise in the middle of the Russell and Clarkson backcourt and Randle and Nance forward tandem. Built like Golden State Warrior new free agent superstar Kevin Durant in frame and game and folding the waistband of his shorts over twice to keep them up, so long as Brandon pulls everything up from his socks to his jump shots then Ingram could be the next star of this league. Let alone the Lakers with potential as wide as his canyon wingspan.

But don't dub these Cali Lakers 'Baby Warriors'...they're much more than that. With youth in reserve, from underrated x-factor Anthony Brown to golden era, 90's tough-guy throwback Tarik Black who could have just as easily found himself between Ewing and Oakley back in the day like he is Randle and Russell today. But if the kids aren't alright the Lakers have the vets to heal the knee scrapes like another retired longtime Laker legend Gary Vitti, all lead by scoring All-Star Luol Deng who looks to take the reigns of this purple and gold franchise. All whilst being the perfect mentor to show fellow Dukie Ingram the big-league ropes. The Great Brit giving a veteran alternative with another inspired international in China's Yi Jialian, who is as a scorer as automatic as his shot from the FIBA three-point line. More around the world range is circling at the Point Guard position, from fellow Olympians speedy Jose Calderon and the much overlooled skill-set of Marcelo Huertas (who will wear coaches old number 4 after giving up the 9 for new star Deng) who has a great 2016 Rio Olympics leading host nation Brazil. And even if you have no idea how on earth they do the Hollywood Lakers still have World Peace. And from Randle to Brandon, Metta is the perfect mentor. If that wasn't enough then the Lakers have two potental Sixth Men of the Year for their dozen to finish you off in the clutch. Nuke cooked by microwave men Lou Williams and Nick Young with his swagger back P. To plug the spark off the bench with their streaky to scorching scoring. If one 6 is cold you know the other can go off...but imagine if they both got hot? Now that's a lot of options. All that and we almost forgot the Luc Longley in the middle Timofey Mozgov. But don't scoff this Cav champion is the last one here with a ring.

The only thing left for a franchise that once had fire, ice, a couple of Goliaths, a magician and the logo as its symbol is to find a new identity. Whether that be lead by D'Angelo or finished on the break by Ingram. They need to identify when to let Jordan rule. Or when to pound it inside to Julius, with Mozgov and Black cleaning up whatever mess needs to be rebounded. From pick and rolls to post ups we guess savvy basketball quarterbacks like Huertas and Calderon will know what to run with and whether to pass off to the hot hand of Young or Lou Will. But for now the safest bet may to be let the superstar experienced hand of Luol lead. Deng may just be the difference maker in this battle for Los Angeles with the Clippers. But in all these Californian clashes in the Pacific we all know the real Kings lie in the Warrior state not Sacramento. The Lakers will just look to have Lil' Wayne advised fun like Phoenix. Before rising from the ashes for their time in the sun.

Now without Bryant the Nicholson favourite Lakers still have beans in a league that's now more Jack than beanstalk. That sounds like something out of Hollywood, like this brand new show that not only must go on...but will and is. Ready for a new blockbuster franchise?

Let the new Showtime begin!

#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