Jersey Boys Part 2: The Bandwagon Strikes Back

(Our Epic Saga Continues)

So here we have morons of every shape, size and color sporting a specific piece of athletic wear dyed in regal purple and brilliant gold. Although their surnames all differ, the handle on the back reliably reads, "Bryant"; the 2 and the 4 displayed prominently just below are also a given. Are they diehards? Kobe cultists? Over-enthusiastic supporters of the mesh tank-top? Our sideline reporter Amy Winehouse says no, no, no... then nods off in a junk-induced tv time-out.

What they are, in fact, are members of the Lakers Playoff Bandwagon, which unlike migratory birds, cannot be counted upon each spring. Their presence is as erratic as their gameday behavior at the local watering hole, and about as enjoyable to experience as a kick in the mouth with a golf shoe. You'll know them from true Laker fans when you see them, and you'll probably hear them calling Pau Gasol, "Paul" before that. These are the same residents of this fine city of angles that have no problem rooting for USC football and UCLA basketball simultaneously, because you can't have a favorite college team if you never went to one. These are the "proud" fans at Dodger stadium who throw beers at fathers and sons who happen to be wearing the visiting team's hat. They are, besides their beloved Kobe Bryant (who demanded to be moved so much and so often last summer that some people mistook him for Al Davis), the real reason why fans in every NBA city learn the "Beat L.A." chant at birth.

But never fear, faithful Laker supporters. Their joy, like their fanaticism, is fleeting. For how can you appreciate the success of a team if you've never experienced the sorrow of years past?

How do you rejoice over Robert Horry or Derek Fisher's three pointers if you've never witnessed a Van Exel brick? How do you delight in the grace of Pau Gasol when you've never cringed at the dreaded Divac flop? How can you chant "Kobe" when you've never cursed Kwame?

You cannot. Anyone who endured the Del Harris years will tell you that. So we will have our memories of the good, the bad, and the Vlade, and they will have their sleeveless shirts.