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Do you think this is legit?
EL SEGUNDO, Calif. -- Stretching on the floor of the Lakers' practice floor, Kobe Bryant was as vulnerable as you will see him on a basketball court. He was flat on his back, getting the kinks worked out by a member of the Lakers' training staff -- the old bones moving this way and that, the odometer reading 51,000 minutes (regular-season and playoffs) and counting.
But for how long? How long until this vintage model must be traded in for something younger and newer -- something that will endure in a league that is so much different than the one a cocky, Afro-domed Bryant joined way back in 1996?
At 34, after the first two days of training camp as he embarks upon his 17th NBA season, Bryant was in a reflective mood last week. He'd already spoken of how this might be the most talent that's ever surrounded him in a Lakers uniform, and how his improbable union with Dwight Howard is about both today and tomorrow -- about the chase for his sixth championship and the inevitable passing of the baton to Howard. Bryant made clear last week as the media descended in full force upon Lakerland that this is still his team, but again he used the words "after I'm gone" to describe the franchise's future under Howard's leadership.
When will he be gone? When will the most masterful, historically important basketball career this side of Michael Jordan's be chiseled in stone, the way some might joke that his first NBA contract was?
Speaking with CBSSports.com in a quiet moment after practice, Bryant conceded that, in all likelihood, the finish line and the conclusion of his current contract will be one in the same. Bryant has two years left, and though he was careful to point out, "One can never be too sure," he made it clear in the next breath it's almost unfathomable he would play beyond 2013-14, which would be his 18th season.
Even after visiting the fountain of youth in the form of a knee procedure in Germany that allowed him to average nearly 39 minutes per game last season, Bryant senses that the end is near -- and not only for his knees, wrist, ankles or other body parts, but also for his incomparably competitive mind. The window, he is ready to acknowledge, is two years. Two more chances to catch Jordan.
"It's not about health necessarily," he said. "It's about 'Do I want to do it? Do I have that hunger to continue to prepare at a high level?"
Bill Parcells, a competitive sociopath from another sport, used to say that if you're talking about retirement, it means you've basically already retired. To hear Bryant, the most cutthroat basketball combatant of his generation, speak about the day -- the moment -- when his smoldering desire to win finally will be extinguished, was something to behold.
So much so that the next question -- about whether Bryant would ever change his mind and hang on for an extra year or two as a role player averaging 15 points just to pad his championship resume -- needn't have been asked.
"That's not gonna happen," Bryant said. "That's just not me."
Had the Lakers' offseason continued deep into summertime in the uneventful manner in which it began, this would've been an entirely different, much more wistful conversation. The Lakers had maxed out their existing roster with a second straight exit in the conference semifinals, and Bryant knew it. The Chris Paul elixir had been snatched from Bryant's eager fingertips before he got a chance to drink of it, and the Lakers were coming from way back in the field in the yearlong Howard chase -- never really appearing to be in the race until the end.
Given his intense desire to finish his career with one more championship to equal the six titles achieved by Jordan, and considering the Lakers' inability to rise to the challenge presented by the Oklahoma City Thunder in the West, it should've been enough to push Bryant into conceding his chase was over. It should've shaken his belief that the Lakers could reinvent themselves one more time, could deal Bryant a championship hand once more before it was over.
Right?
But for how long? How long until this vintage model must be traded in for something younger and newer -- something that will endure in a league that is so much different than the one a cocky, Afro-domed Bryant joined way back in 1996?
At 34, after the first two days of training camp as he embarks upon his 17th NBA season, Bryant was in a reflective mood last week. He'd already spoken of how this might be the most talent that's ever surrounded him in a Lakers uniform, and how his improbable union with Dwight Howard is about both today and tomorrow -- about the chase for his sixth championship and the inevitable passing of the baton to Howard. Bryant made clear last week as the media descended in full force upon Lakerland that this is still his team, but again he used the words "after I'm gone" to describe the franchise's future under Howard's leadership.
When will he be gone? When will the most masterful, historically important basketball career this side of Michael Jordan's be chiseled in stone, the way some might joke that his first NBA contract was?
Speaking with CBSSports.com in a quiet moment after practice, Bryant conceded that, in all likelihood, the finish line and the conclusion of his current contract will be one in the same. Bryant has two years left, and though he was careful to point out, "One can never be too sure," he made it clear in the next breath it's almost unfathomable he would play beyond 2013-14, which would be his 18th season.
"It's just that three more years seems like a really long time to continue to stay at a high, high level of training and preparation and health," Bryant said. "That's a lot of years. For a guard? That's a lot of years."
Even after visiting the fountain of youth in the form of a knee procedure in Germany that allowed him to average nearly 39 minutes per game last season, Bryant senses that the end is near -- and not only for his knees, wrist, ankles or other body parts, but also for his incomparably competitive mind. The window, he is ready to acknowledge, is two years. Two more chances to catch Jordan.
"It's not about health necessarily," he said. "It's about 'Do I want to do it? Do I have that hunger to continue to prepare at a high level?"
Bill Parcells, a competitive sociopath from another sport, used to say that if you're talking about retirement, it means you've basically already retired. To hear Bryant, the most cutthroat basketball combatant of his generation, speak about the day -- the moment -- when his smoldering desire to win finally will be extinguished, was something to behold.
So much so that the next question -- about whether Bryant would ever change his mind and hang on for an extra year or two as a role player averaging 15 points just to pad his championship resume -- needn't have been asked.
"That's not gonna happen," Bryant said. "That's just not me."
Had the Lakers' offseason continued deep into summertime in the uneventful manner in which it began, this would've been an entirely different, much more wistful conversation. The Lakers had maxed out their existing roster with a second straight exit in the conference semifinals, and Bryant knew it. The Chris Paul elixir had been snatched from Bryant's eager fingertips before he got a chance to drink of it, and the Lakers were coming from way back in the field in the yearlong Howard chase -- never really appearing to be in the race until the end.
Given his intense desire to finish his career with one more championship to equal the six titles achieved by Jordan, and considering the Lakers' inability to rise to the challenge presented by the Oklahoma City Thunder in the West, it should've been enough to push Bryant into conceding his chase was over. It should've shaken his belief that the Lakers could reinvent themselves one more time, could deal Bryant a championship hand once more before it was over.
Right?
"Nope," Bryant said.
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