Chron: One word describes Lakers: Dynasty ... as in soap opera

http://www.chron.com/cs/CDA/ssistory.mpl/sports/2515655

Is there any better reality TV than the Los Angeles Lakers? Gary Payton is whining, Shaquille O'Neal is cursing, and Kobe Bryant is vamping. They're the high-wire act you can't take your eyes off -- because you don't want to miss it whether they flourish or fall.

Question: How many Lakers does it take to change a light bulb?

Answer: None. They'd rather sit in the dark so they can't see each other.

These Lakers bicker so much, their starting lineup should read, "Bryant, O'Neal, Payton, Hatfield, McCoy." The only way the Lakers could have worse team chemistry is if they hired Jim Gray as their full-time sideline reporter.

Not only are the Lakers a better soap opera than The Young and the Restless, they're a better Shakespearean tragedy than a Shakespearean tragedy. Heck, I wouldn't be surprised to wake up tomorrow morning and read that Slava Medvedenko has an Oedipus complex.

Yet for all the Lakers' foibles -- like the Yankees in baseball -- it's always a more interesting NBA playoff chase when they're still around. So somewhere in midtown Manhattan, NBA and TV executives are lighting a conspiratorial candle for Phil Jackson's Divisive Dozen.

(I don't want to say the Lakers are on ABC a lot, but Rick Fox is up for a best-supporting-actor Emmy. Not to mention the network seems to televise the Lakers only when they're playing in Los Angeles, part of Al Michaels' "I'll Broadcast Any NBA Game Between My Front Yard and Staples Center" ABC contract.)

My goodness, the final week of the Lakers' regular season alone -- preceding their fascinating, in-progress playoff series against the Rockets -- had more curves than J-Lo.

Kobe appeared to tank against the Sacramento Kings, then handed the Lakers the Pacific Division title by making two ridiculously improbable 26-foot shots (at the end of regulation and the end of double overtime) against Portland. Shaq -- suddenly one part Wilt Chamberlain, one part Andrew Dice Clay -- has become so profane of late, I could've sworn he had been traded to Deadwood. Meanwhile, Payton and Karl Malone roll their eyes so often at the surreal abyss they've dropped into, they'd be better off with a cigarette and a blindfold.

After Kobe appeared to purposefully not shoot against Sacramento in response to criticism that he was shooting too much, an unnamed teammate said: "I don't know how we can forgive him." Kobe then asked every teammate the next day who uttered the damning words; nobody confessed.

(At press time, Kobe reportedly had widened his investigation to include the team mascot, his wife, Vanessa, and Jack Nicholson.)

Against the Rockets on Saturday night, Kobe again took only one shot in the first half, but sideline savant Gray, Kobe's unofficial stenographer -- perhaps subconsciously seeking to help the Lakers family stay in denial -- didn't ask him about that on ESPN, preferring to inquire if Kobe knew why Payton had to go to the locker room late in the second quarter.

Indeed, the Lakers are limping into the postseason with a variety of ailments.

Still, the Lakers don't need a trainer, they need a therapist.

Lakers team meals are starting to resemble the Last Supper, only with more tension.

The Lakers not only don't talk off the court, they've stopped talking on the court. Late in the regular season, the Lakers started running the Bermuda triangle offense -- throw the ball to Kobe and watch it disappear. Then again, nobody else in recent NBA days has made other teams' leads disappear as often as Kobe has.

You're still never quite sure how happy the Lakers are when Kobe wins the game for them.

Alas, the Lakers are so dysfunctional that when they're on the road, they stay in 12 different hotels.

Of course, the Lakers still will win the NBA championship. They'll just have the only victory parade in history via fax.