Kobe Bryant: How Does Series Sweep to Mavericks Affect His Legacy?

With the Los Angeles Lakers’ three-peat aspirations crashing down in flames, one of the many story lines that will undoubtedly be beaten like a dead horse over the upcoming days, weeks and months is Kobe Bryant’s legacy. 

But let me take a crack at it while the wound is still fresh. 

Unable, at least for now, to tie Michael Jordan’s six championships, pass Magic Johnson’s five or even outplay Dirk Nowitzki and his zero, how will this debacle of a postseason affect our appreciation of Kobe’s career? 

On a self-admitted quest to become the GOAT (Greatest of All Time), Kobe has hit a roadblock. But what exactly are the implications? 

First, let me say this: Legacy is a tricky thing to analyze and evaluate, as it is purely subjective. Sorry, sabermetrics geeks, but there is no way to quantify opinion and judgment. 

There may be general consensus, but there is no right or wrong. 

For example, intense debates rage between proponents of Wilt Chamberlain and Bill Russell, Karl Malone and Tim Duncan. Stat gurus love the Stilt and the Mailman, while title guys favor Russell and Duncan. 

Furthermore, there are factors besides actual performance that impact legacy. 

Do I think Jordan is unequivocally the greatest player of all-time? Definitely (in fact, this may be one of the few almost unanimous stances in sports).

But I also believe that the perception of MJ’s greatness was influenced and amplified by the media maelstrom that surrounded his NBA era. His Airness profited considerably from an explosion of available basketball-related media—from frequent TV broadcasts to endorsement advertisements to the Internet boom to trading cards—as his exploits were more readily accessible to the public than his predecessors’. 

Another case in point: Every basketball fan I know has seen at least highlights from Kobe’s 81-point game, if not the whole thing, but I don’t know a single person that reports any visual evidence of Wilt’s 100. 

Everyone views Bryant’s eruption with awe, wonderment and reverence; on the other hand, too many people dismiss Wilt’s accomplishments, maintaining that Chamberlain’s prodigious physical advantage gave him an unfair edge. 

I must say I find this a preposterous assertion. Sports are all about finding the edge, whether it’s Ray Allen’s jumper or Jerry Rice’s hands or Lio Messi’s quickness. Physical dominance should never be used as a qualifier when discussing greatness.

Chamberlain has become somewhat of a myth, a Herculean character whose purported feats are taken with a grain of salt. Sometimes, though, a measure of disbelief can be beneficial. 

Take Wilt’s ridiculous assertion that he bedded 20,000 women. That absurd boast engenders nothing but good-humored scoffing, whereas Kobe’s adultery still elicits reprobation and harms his reputation. 

There’s also a “what have you done for me lately” culture that pervades sports. Especially in this modern age ruled by the highlight and the soundbite, recent results outweigh the big picture. If you’re not producing now, who cares what you’ve done for the past decade.

Moreover, we rarely view current superstars as favorably as we do former greats (and this extends to musicians, actors, authors and even politicians). We want them to withstand the test of time before we bestow immortality. Unless they’re undeniably transcendent, such as Jordan, we tend to give those from past generations the benefit of the doubt. 

So let’s talk Kobe. 

In my opinion, getting swept by the Mavericks doesn’t affect Bryant’s legacy one bit. While we might be tempted to condemn Kobe for his inability to carry his team, the perspective that comes with time should allow perception to normalize. 

Conventional wisdom places the Black Mamba between two and 10 on the all-time list, depending on your values and biases. Although, some people argue that, with another ring this year, Kobe versus Jordan would have been a legitimate discussion. 

I thoroughly disagree.

Not only was Jordan the indisputable leader on six championship teams—compared to Kobe’s two—he’s also No. 1 in career Player Efficiency Rating (PER), while Kobe sits 18th. I believe Bryant would need to win eight titles to challenge Jordan’s throne—unlikely to say the least. 

On the flip side, there’s no way that these playoffs remove Kobe from the top 10. 

He clearly could have played better, but age is catching up to Bryant, and this edition of the Lakers was significantly worse than past ones (Derek Fisher and Ron Artest are also slowing down, Steve Blake and Matt Barnes turned out to be downgrades and something happened to Pau Gasol).

And you can’t criticize Kobe for quitting, as was alleged after Game 7 of the 2006 first-round series against the Phoenix Suns. He just wasn't good enough this time around. 

Lastly, Bryant’s career is far from over. Even though he is declining athletically, he can still play at a high level, and there are so many unanswered questions that will ultimately inform his legacy. 

Where will he end up on the all-time scoring list? 

Will the Lakers acquire Dwight Howard and win another trophy or two? 

Right now, Kobe—along with Phil Jackson and the rest of the Lakers—is receiving the heat that deservedly comes with a sweep. As humans, or maybe as Americans, or perhaps just as sports fans, we seem programmed to unnecessarily project enormous implications on relatively small matters. 

As the furor dies down, we’ll all hopefully realize that this one postseason doesn’t mean much at all.