I Am Shameless: A Treatise on Kobe Bryant

I tend to like athletes who above all, win. I don't really care what else they do, so long as they don't annoy me, and they win. I don't typically gravitate towards athletes who are beloved by all (the notable exceptions: Tom Brady and Derek Jeter), and I refuse to support anyone who is inconsistent when the pressure's on in the playoffs (see: A-Rod, Peyton Manning, Dirk Nowitzki). I like winners.

I used to hate Kobe Bryant. Hate, hate, haaaaaaate Kobe Bryant.

He ruined a championship team because he couldn't get along with Shaq- one of the most congenial pro athletes in the past half century; he played for the Lakers; he had weird hair; he shared with us all that he considered going to Duke; he pretended he was street; he proposed to that girl while she was still in high school; he was a bit quick with the Jordan comparisons; and, he really, really doesn't pass the ball. I mean, JESUS, KOBE, PASS FOR ONCE.

I debated writing a college admissions essay about my general loathing for Kobe. It seemed like a quirky, unexpected topic that would generally interest a bored admissions employee. Eventually, I changed tactics after realizing that the essay would largely be: "HATE. KOBE. GRRRR." Also, the rape allegations sprung up and then everybody hated Kobe and it wasn't any fun for me anymore. Besides, the Lakers had taken Kwame "MJ Broke My Will to Do Anything Other than Make Katherine Angry" Brown off our hands for Caron Butler, so I couldn't really complain.

But something changed after the rape acquittal. Maybe it was the unecessary dimension of intellectual feminism that came with the territory of Hating Kobe Bryant, maybe it was all the lost endorsement money, maybe it was that he actually was innocent, but I didn't really hate Kobe Bryant anymore. He was just there.

Then this season happened. At the beginning of the year, he pretended to be a genuine team player; improving the questionable talent around him and making the Lakers contenders. Injuries got in the way of that, so he took over. You just don't put Kobe Bryant on a team like this; it's extremely akin to putting Baby in the corner.

I mean, this one of the 30 greatest NBA players ever, in his absolute prime, surrounded by Kwame "No, Seriously, I Suck" Brown, Lamar Odom, Jordan Farmar, Luke Walton, Andrew Bynum, and an adult named "Smush." Now, I realize that Kevin Garnett has experienced an entire career with some fools Kevin McHale picked up at the Exxon for $16 and a dinner at the Sizzler, but Kobe's playing for the L.A. LAKERS. They went 42-40 this season while stranding their star, someone whose talent actually deserves the title "greatness."

I just don't think you can do that to somebody like Kobe. You're toying with fate, Mitch Kupchak, and fate doesn't enjoy it. Fate said no, stop saying yes. He wants a trade and with good, justifiable reason. Kobe is nasty, smart, and self-centered, but he has to win. It goes beyond wanting or needing to win, he has to win. I have to win. I've come to terms with this, and with Kobe Bryant.

I hate to lose. Much more than I've ever hated Kobe Bryant. We have seen so much losing from the Washington Wizards and Redskins, that somewhere, George Washington weeps. The losing is just a pervasive, all-encompassing feeling that strangles you into apathy about Washington sports. It's always been bad for the Wizards, and really only worse since they went from "Bullets" (COMPLETELY RESPECTABLE) to "Wizards" (HORRIFYINGLY BAD). Anytime your team name can be shortened to "Washington Whiz," you have picked the wrong one, sir. Needless to say, no one was shocked when Gilbert Arenas anounced that he will opt out of his contract in 2008.

The time is now, Wizards. I know Kobe wants to go to Chicago, but John Paxson may get coquettish about it and fritter a deal away like he did with Deng for Gasol. Strike while you can. Send Gil, Etan Thomas, and maybe even #16 (Thad Young, perhaps?) away to Hollywood, and bring Kobe Bryant to the nation's capital.

Kobe, you can do whatever you want here. We promise. The Verizon Center is a very nice arena. You can (read: please do), change the team name and uniforms. I mean, hell, start doing cocaine, you could be mayor in the District.

So, I know I've told everyone I've ever met how much I hate Kobe Bryant, but don't worry, I'm shameless enough to still want him to come here...even shameless enough to pretend like there's some logic and reason behind that change of heart.