Kobe Bryant: The End of His 40-Point Streak Is a Small Victory for Us All

The Los Angeles Lakers won against a surging Dallas Mavericks team, but Kobe Bryant lost. That's the wonky distillation from Monday's Mavs-Lakers rematch.

Bryant had been on one of his trademark scoring tears, dropping 40 a night like that mysterious German doctor had given him a Fountain of Youth injection.

The Lakers won against a Dallas team that is gaining strength. But Kobe Bryant failed at something. As long as we remain conflicted about Kobe, we'll take these small victories anywhere we can get them, no matter how nonsensical they may sound.

That is, unless you really believe that the enduring feature of Kobe's Hall of Fame career is his desire to freeze out teammates and sabotage the Lakers' championship hopes.

The harshest criticism may be reserved for LeBron James, but Kobe is subject to his own,  equally unusual brand of scrutiny. Whether the Lakers win or lose, there's the ongoing question of whether Bryant has behaved himself. Kobe astounds us, but was it morally sound?

The ethics of basketball, if you believe in such things, are simple. Hot doggers, ball hogs and show offs offend our sensibility, and aren't supposed to succeed—at least not in the long run.

When they do, sometimes we are forced to compromise our standards, or just succumb to the flat-out thrill of, say, Allen Iverson putting an entire team on his back.

Kobe, though, is in a complicated situation. He's one of the game's all-time greats, and not in the speculative way that LeBron is. He's never been as scabrous as advertised, nor have his more harmonious teams been totally free of Kobe playing the hero.

Finger-wagging is part of watching Kobe. It's the way we assuage our guilt—at excusing a possible rapist, maybe, or just for the numerous bad judgments or bouts of egotism that are part of his game. There is no player as confident as Kobe Bryant. There's also only a handful who can claim his level of technical proficiency.

That tension can be maddening, but it also keeps us from ever pinning Kobe down, or understanding what's going through his head. Sometimes, he takes "bad" shots on purpose to disorient his opponents. Sometimes, we just aren't smart enough to see what he's trying to do.

And yet Kobe Bryant also shoots simply because he can, because when he's feeling it, or trying to get going, he figures he has as good a chance as anyone of connecting for two points.

It was easy with Iverson. He was an insult to basketball who, at his best, captured our hearts, raided our imaginations and made us swoon. We were helpless, but it didn’t happen too often. It didn't happen as regularly as his fans would have you believe.

Kobe, on the other hand, is very frequently amazing. We can’t plead intoxication without starting to look soft, or silly.

Last season, he started to look his age. He started 2011-12 chucking unrepentantly, and his first 40-point game felt like nostalgia. Then the next one came. And the next one. We were right back where we always are with Kobe: entranced, but eager to pass judgment whenever we get an opportunity. We need to at least maintain that illusion.

The truth is, though, it's too late for all that. Kobe Bryant has five rings, a place in the pantheon, and is the most memorable player in professional basketball since Michael Jordan (sorry, Tim Duncan fans).

We may never come to terms with the way he plays the game, or what we imagine his personality to be. Our attempts at finger-wagging are ritualistic, self-serving. The best we can do is assuage our conscience, and when he decisively falters—like going 7-of-22 and breaking a streak of 40-point games—act a little smug.