The third quarter ended.
Fisher’s wide-open three-pointer had brought the deficit back to single digits, keeping the Lakers’ hopes of a comeback alive. During the break, Jackson let Lambis draw up the fourth-quarter tactics for the rest of the team while he pulled Kobe into a corner. He ignored the stench of sweat wafting off Kobe, hooking an arm around the player’s shoulders. He gripped him tightly, holding him close with an unprecedentedly serious expression.
It was do-or-die now; if some things weren’t said, it would be too late. He had to give Kobe one final lesson.
"Kobe!"
Jackson pointed his free left hand at the court, his tone profound. "I know you. I know you’ve been holding onto a fire in your heart these past few years, always wanting to prove yourself."
Regardless of what actually happened, the outcome remained that Kobe had forced O’Neal out. That was the biggest blemish on Kobe’s career. Even though several years had passed, fans and media alike still dug up that old drama, calling him an ingrate who rode O’Neal’s coattails to two championships before his wings grew strong enough to seize the alpha role and kick O’Neal to the curb. Therefore, Kobe needed to prove himself. He needed to prove he could lead a team to a championship all by himself. Over the years, he trained with brutal intensity, returning from every offseason with improved skills. Winning the regular-season MVP with an average of thirty-five points per game, Kobe had pushed his individual abilities to the absolute limit.
"I also know that you don’t just want to lead the team to a title; you want to become a superstar like Michael. You want to be a leader." Jackson tapped his finger against Kobe’s chest.
"In my eyes, a leader exists for victory. No matter the circumstances, he pursues only one thing: winning!
"A leader will always put the team first!
"Don’t tell me that scoring forty or fifty points means you can lead the team to a win. No, Kobe, it doesn’t work like that. That’s your personal victory, not the team’s.
"So as a leader, don’t expect your teammates to cater to you or sacrifice for you. You must sacrifice for them. You must create opportunities for them. When they perform poorly, you need to encourage them, using your individual brilliance as a safety net to guarantee the team’s success.
"You are our sharpest weapon, but you’re also our trump card. And a trump card only proves its worth when it’s played in a crisis."
Jackson thought of Hardaway. In his mind, no matter how spectacular Nowitzki’s stats looked, the true leader of the Phoenix Suns would always be Hardaway. He was the kind of person willing to sacrifice for the team and serve his teammates, yet when they struggled to break through in crucial moments, he would step up, actively shoulder the offensive load, and secure the game. He was also humble enough to willingly yield his spotlight to O’Neal. As if that wasn’t enough, he yielded it to Nowitzki this year. If he hadn’t stepped aside, couldn’t he have easily averaged thirty points per game or more? The man had averaged over twenty points since his sophomore season.
Kobe furrowed his brows deeply. It was unclear if the words had truly sunk in, but Jackson no longer had time to care. At this point, if they didn’t win, they would be packing up and going home.
"Kobe, I need you to make a change," Jackson urged. "I want you to become the team’s leader, which means you can’t just brute-force your way through anymore. You need to pay attention to your teammates, pass the ball, and lead us to a win. Do you understand?"
The unspoken truth hung in the air: Kobe was selfish. A rush of blood to the head, and he would go full throttle without a thought, treating his teammates like thin air. Their lineup was already countered by the Phoenix Suns, so if he kept playing like this, how were they supposed to win? Did he really think he was Jordan? He still had a long way to go before reaching Jordan’s level.
Kobe’s frown deepened. He seemed ready to argue, but Jackson gave him no chance, shoving him back toward his teammates to listen to Lambis’s tactical breakdown. Jackson stared intently at Kobe, trying to decipher what was going through his mind at that moment. But what did it matter even if he figured it out? He had said what needed to be said. Whether or not Kobe listened was entirely up to him.
Two minutes hurried by, and the game resumed.
Lakers on offense.
As the ball crossed half-court, Fisher immediately fed it to Kobe. Kobe instinctively prepared to drive but abruptly stopped. For the first time, he scanned his teammates’ positioning with the mindset of seeing if someone else had a better opportunity. He had looked at their positioning before, but his mind had always been focused on how he should move to receive a pass and carve out a shooting window for himself. Startled by the sudden realization, Kobe woke up to the fact that Jackson wasn’t wrong. He really did have a problem.
In a flash, without overthinking, Kobe spotted an opening. Flashing a quick hand signal, he dribbled toward Odom. Odom set a solid screen, sealing Poseidon behind him. Kobe instantly burst forward, driving toward the basket. Poseidon, Chandler, Nowitzki—in a split second, nearly half of the Phoenix Suns’ defensive attention was drawn his way.
It looked as though Kobe was about to blindly force a solo play again, rising up for a pull-up jumper near the baseline. Yet, at the very last second before the release, he whipped the ball outward. Sneaking up behind Chandler from the weak side, Yao Ming caught the pass in stride and threw down a vicious slam dunk.
"Yao, beautifully done!"
Kobe recalled Jackson’s words about how a leader needed to encourage his teammates and guide them to victory. Thus, he rushed over, enthusiastically high-fiving Yao Ming while shouting his praise.
Yao Ming stared a bit blankly as Kobe jogged away, a wave of confusion washing over him. Why did he suddenly feel like Kobe was acting different?
Lakers on defense.
Kobe had already retreated to the high post, spreading his arms to meet Hardaway while yelling to everyone, "Guys, we have to get a stop here!"
Yao Ming threw him another sidelong glance. In the day-to-day operations of the team, Yao Ming didn’t consider Kobe an easy person to get along with. Personality might have played a role, but the main reason was that Yao Ming felt Kobe took the game far too seriously. He was like one of those rigidly impartial bosses in the corporate world; no matter how polite they were, you instinctively kept your distance, afraid to open up completely. Not that it mattered much. Professional basketball was just a job, after all. Everyone worked hard to do it well while keeping their personal lives separate. They didn’t necessarily have to hang out off the court and be best friends. But now, Yao Ming could distinctly feel Kobe’s transformation.
However, the fast-paced nature of the court left no time for deep thought. Even with Kobe’s encouragement, the Lakers still struggled to contain the Phoenix Suns, and Nowitzki still managed to run off a screen for an open look. Fortunately, Nowitzki missed the shot. The deficit was cut down by two points.
It was Kobe again, running almost the exact same play as the previous possession. His explosive drive drew the defense, leading to a sweeping cross-court pass straight to Artest in the corner. They ran a setup similar to the Spurs’ Ham tactic. For once, Artest stepped up to the plate, sinking the crucial three-pointer.
The gap closed to four points!
"Ron!" Kobe flashed a thumbs-up at Artest from a distance, then clapped his hands to rally the teammates around him. "Just play like this, we can win."
At that moment, as he motivated his peers, Kobe suddenly realized that this group of teammates wasn’t as weak or incapable of carrying the load as he had imagined.

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