Athletes need arrogance. Some demonstrate it differently than others, but you don't achieve the way a pro basketball player achieves without a little (or big) voice inside of you that tells you "I can.'' That rule applies to people who score 81 in a game as well as a pro basketball player who even scores 1 in a game.
      That person, fueled by self-confidence, is an achiever.
     Nevertheless, Kobe "The Black Mamba'' Bryant has made himself into one of America's most hateable jocks in large part due, I think, to something that extends far beyond confidence, far beyond arrogance. There is a stench around The Black Mamba because of his unprecedented air of smug entitlement.
      This quote is so telling: "They made a concerted effort to run two, three, four guys at me," said The Black Mamba, in an attempt to explain his laughable 5-of-22 night in Tuesday's 102-87 loss at Dallas.
      Really, Kobe? You were covered by four guys?
      There was in fact one Lakers possession when Kobe found himself on the perimeter and double-teamed, and when the ball popped loose (a Kobe turnover) a third Mav collapsed on him and stole the ball. There was no "three people guarding him'' and there certainly were not "four people guarding him.''
      Let The Legend of Kobe grow. ... and the fact that the Mavs (having been embarrassed twice already this year by Kobe and the .500 Lakers) held Bryant to 24 points, 12 under his average, on 22-percent shooting. ... well, that fact will get lost.
      Because if Kobe doesn't score 41 points or 62 points or 81 points, it's because he was being guarded by four or five or six guys, right?
      (I heard that one time last night, Kobe drove to the basket and he was stopped only because Paul Bunyan was in the lane. ... and then Babe The Blue Ox brought weakside help and undercut him!)
      Dirk Nowitzki said this time, the Mavs used "a different game plan than the first two times.'' And indeed, there were really three simple keys to controlling The Drama Queen/The Black Mamba/Kobe Bryant on this night:
      Key No. 1: Deny the ball: Adrian Griffin started on Kobe. Josh Howard later took effective turns. But the strategy that really got into Kobe's head, and really took him out of his game, was to assign the lightning-quick Devin Harris to him. Harris is slight of build, but he's long. And he can run all day. And he's fearless. So in the second quarter especially, Devin took Kobe and simply denied him the ball. Kobe would go down low and call for it, but Harris fronted him and denied. Eventually, LA adjusted by having the ball in Kobe's hands at it was brought across the timeline. ... and Harris stayed with Kobe the whole way, making him labor just to bring the ball upcourt.
      Said Harris: "We just tried to make other guys beat us. We tried to take away a lot of his penetration and his splits on the pick and roll and just trap him and see if he could find other people.''
      "Finding other people''? More on that in a moment. Here, we'll note that while Harris' breakdown is obviously accurate, he humbly skips over his individual work. In the second quarter, Kobe didn't score. In the second quarter, he managed only one desparation show. In the second quarter, it was Harris denying him the opportunity to do either.
      You can stop Kobe Bryant with a baby-faced 6-2 point guard who barely casts a shadow? Who knew?
      Key No. 2: Take away his left hand: This ain't exactly brain surgery; it's always part of the gameplan. But a defender's tendency is to want to play Kobe straight up, inasmuch as he's still strong going to his right. Here, Griffin especially pushed Kobe right. Most times, Bryant ended up spinning back to his left, into Griffin and into the teeth of the defense. On one notable play, Kobe tried to go baseline right. ... and dribbled the ball off his foot. On another, he tried to go right and was met by Dirk Nowitzki, who denied the layup. "Kobe to his right'' isn't a weakness. But it is his "least strength.''
      Key No. 3: Make it a matter of Pride vs. Pride: Much is being made and written about the Mavs' "pride'' and the concept is valid. To a man, players said they were embarrassed by having allowed The Black Mamba to score 62 points in Los Angeles on Dec. 20 (and for that matter, embarrassed to have allowed him 43 points in an LA win a week before that.)
      "I wouldn't say it was personal," Mavericks coach Avery Johnson fibbed. "We were all just kind of embarrassed. ...''
      It WAS personal. And it was personal for Kobe, too. Kobe's greatest talent is his one-on-one brilliance. The "one'' thing, though. ... his Oneness, is also his greatest flaw.
      "Their problem," Jerry Stackhouse said, is that "they rely so much on one guy."
      Remember what Devin said about Kobe "finding other people''?
     When Harris denied him the ball, Kobe squealed at teammates. When he didn't get calls, he berated officials. (Sometimes, he berated/stared down officials even when he DID get the call.) And when it was over -- ending the game on the bench, not even LA's leading scorer -- he went into a pout. He mockingly applauded along with the Dallas crowd. He maintained eye contact with the refs who had "wronged'' him. He reeked of that unprecedented air of smug entitlement.
      It WAS personal for Kobe, and in that sense, Dallas found his Achilles heel: If Bryant really was "guarded by four defenders,'' or five or six or seven. ... shouldn't he have generously passed the ball elsewhere?   

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