2014-15 Lakers Season Thread (21-61) KAT

This summer, if the chance comes, Love, Rondo, Neither, or Both?

  • Love

    Votes: 0 0.0%
  • Rondo

    Votes: 0 0.0%
  • Neither

    Votes: 0 0.0%
  • Both

    Votes: 0 0.0%

  • Total voters
    0
  • Poll closed .
Status
Not open for further replies.
Again, it's been said plenty of times, had we been at 3rd worst in the league, we keep the pick. NEVER has a team been outside top 5 at 3rd worst. So nah we wouldn't have. The lakers didn't do there ******* job. 

If you like lotteries, more power to you, i like certainties, and had the lakers done there job at the trade deadline or buy out season, we wouldn't be having this conversation. 

Hell we never beat boston in boston for a championship...then it happened.....

So no matter what...its is a lottery. We do not control what happens in the lottery.

Sure more could have been done to help the case. I agree.

End of the day its not in our control....

If we were in the top 2, 3 teams could jump us and we still wouldn't lose our pick.

4 days ago we were within a game of the 1-2 spot.

It was in our control. We chose not to go with it.
 
C CP1708 LOL you know nobody will be fired if we lose that pick.

I will do every single thing I can think of to make it so.

On here, on Twitter, on Facebook, on Instagram, on the radio call in shows, everything I can think of that will get a response.

Ha, I'll even have a white woman write a letter. That **** works every time. :lol :rollin
 
@CP1708 LOL you know nobody will be fired if we lose that pick.
Ideally fans get pissed and stop going to games, but probably another 3-4 years of this before that happens.

Hurt there pockets and maybe changes would be possible. 

but i doubt that ever happens.
 
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[quote name="miamib30514"]Lakers and Knicks , NBA's best and most worthy franchises of you let NT tell it ...[/quote]You lost? In this thread, one of those 2 teams IS the best and most worthy franchise.

(Not the Knicks :lol)
 
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Didn't we give Sacre and Elias Harris multi year deals? Jabari is way better, love his demeanor, toughness and scoring ability.
 
C CP1708 LOL you know nobody will be fired if we lose that pick.

I will do every single thing I can think of to make it so.

On here, on Twitter, on Facebook, on Instagram, on the radio call in shows, everything I can think of that will get a response.

Ha, I'll even have a white woman write a letter. That **** works every time. :lol :rollin

DEAD
 
Last edited:
The NBA Choice: No One-Size-Fits-All Approach

Coach Calipari’s undefeated Kentucky Wildcats are back in the Final Four — but that doesn’t mean the current NCAA system is perfect.

By Julius Randle

I knew what it was immediately and I knew it was serious.

Season opener at home, Staples Center, my professional debut with the Los Angeles Lakers. The Rockets were in town. Dwight Howard, James Harden — it doesn’t get any bigger than that for a 19-year-old rookie. Kobe Bryant, coming off an Achilles tear last year, was back in the starting lineup where he belonged, and even though outsiders didn’t think our team would contend for anything, there was a clear sense of optimism and purpose inside our locker room. Kobe demands no less, but it wasn’t just his presence; the collective confidence in the room was palpable.

13 minutes and 34 seconds.

That’s how long it took for the entirety of my first season in the NBA to come to a crashing halt. Fractured tibia, they told me. I would need surgery, and I was done for the year. It happened on a routine play. I drove toward the basket like I had done thousands of times before, only this time, when I planted my right leg to go up for the score, I heard a pop.

There was no pain. There was just that pop, and the immediate realization that there was no point in even trying to stand up.

That was the night of Oct. 28, 2014. Now, just about five months to the day since my injury occurred, I am back on the court — on a non-contact basis for now — practicing with my Lakers. The leg feels great, and even though I was extremely anxious during the earliest stages of the rehab period, I never let doubts take seed in my mind. I never wavered or lost confidence.

I owe that mindset largely to Kobe. There he was, one of the greatest players of all time, one of the most recognizable athletes on the planet — and the guy who was my boyhood idol — and he’s calling and texting me on the night I got hurt, and in the days afterward. “This is no time for a pity party,” he said. “Your recovery starts NOW.”

That’s the thing about No. 24: When he says something, you listen. And you believe him.

I met Kobe for the first time last summer. He had invited me to Orange County to train with him in advance of summer league, and the experience was pretty surreal. Just a few months earlier, I had truly been agonizing over whether or not to declare for the NBA Draft after just one year at the University of Kentucky, and now I was getting schooled on the game’s finer points by a player I grew up idolizing.

Kobe, of course, never had to go through that decision process. He went straight to the NBA from high school, just like Kevin Garnett, Tracy McGrady and LeBron James. Those guys were elite athletes at age 18, each “boy” capable of playing with men despite their lack of experience, and despite never attending college or learning from a top-notch NCAA coach.

Yes, there were others in their era who jumped and never truly made it, but I believe that decision — whether a year or more in college will be beneficial — should be left up to the individual. Once you make the choice, it’s on you.

To be perfectly honest, I, too, thought I could compete with anyone in the world coming out of high school. Before I even stepped foot on Kentucky’s campus, I was confident in my ability to become a member of the so-called “One and Done” club that quickly passes through the college ranks on the way to the NBA. What I didn’t expect was for my college experience to be so amazing. It helped me in a ton of ways on and off the court, and gave me a lot to think about before I made the decision to declare for last year’s draft.

First off, there’s no college experience like playing for the University of Kentucky, and it starts with the fan base. The fans are absolutely ridiculous, in a great way. When you play for the Wildcats, you’re like a member of their family. Those who wear the blue and white are treated like rock stars around town. Our fans live and breathe the game, and the passion runs year-round.

When people ask me what makes playing basketball there so different, I laugh, and I tell them, “Imagine practicing in front of 10,000 people; that’s why UK is the most amazing program in the country.” Elements of that level of devotion may exist elsewhere, but in Kentucky, you are never forgotten. Guys who played there 20 years ago will get mobbed if they show up on the streets of Lexington. Antoine Walker, Jamal Mashburn, Rex Chapman, Tayshaun Prince, it doesn’t matter — every single one of them is beloved.

I chose Kentucky, though, for one reason above all others:
Coach Cal, plain and simple.

I basically decided to play for him during my freshman year at Prestonwood Christian High School in Texas. I couldn’t officially commit until my senior year, but the decision was an obvious and easy one for me. It was always going to be Calipari. Part of it was the style of play he ran — I saw what he had done in the past with other players — but a major piece was what happened throughout the recruiting process, both in-person and on the phone. When you move past his custom suits and quick retorts, Coach is the face of a family-oriented environment at Kentucky, and for an African-American kid from Dallas like me, this was no minor thing.

I grew up in a single-parent family, and I had a pretty big chip on my shoulder. I also had issues trusting people, but with Coach, my trust in him was implicit from the start. He treated me like one of his own sons, and in the end, he molded me into a better man and a better person. I may have thought I was ready for the NBA before Kentucky, but from a mental and emotional perspective, I probably wasn’t. And that’s the thing: the lessons I learned in one year of college extend far beyond the basketball court. I was taught accountability. I was taught responsibility. I was given tools I am going to need for the rest of my life.

In the end, the decision to turn pro ended up being far tougher than I ever expected. Not only did my teammates and I suffer a heart-breaking loss to Connecticut in the NCAA Tournament title game — in my home town, no less — but we also left the job we set out to do together undone. Plus, I really loved being a college student. Giving up that life wasn’t something I took lightly. This, despite the fact that some fans think that if a college player can get paid at the next level, then what else is there to think about?

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Man, Julius, what if you had stayed at Kentucky and broken your leg. Where would you be then?!”

You’re right; I won’t try to deny it. I, myself, have wondered the same thing at times, mostly when the days rehabbing my injury were longest and bleakest. But just because the security of my first NBA contract soften the blow of my injury, that doesn’t mean I believe that leaving college after one year is the right move for every player who is projected to be drafted high into the pros.

For me, things went down the way they did for reasons that were beyond my control and my comprehension. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and God puts us where we are supposed to be when we are supposed to be there. If there was anyone who ensured I was ready for the NBA, though, it was Coach. The only thing left was to win a championship, and as important as that was to me, and as special as that would have been to accomplish with my teammates, my mind was made up.

All I can say is that I have no regrets. Even if I hadn’t gotten hurt in my first pro game, I would trust that the decision I made was the right one for me.

Since last summer, I have spent countless hours watching and talking about basketball with Kobe. Not many people get that kind of opportunity, but it’s allowed me to study the game in a way I never could when I was actively playing it, and think about the path to development in more nuanced ways.

Meanwhile, there has been A LOT of critique about the college game this season — offense is lagging, players can’t shoot, there are too many timeouts, the game is over-coached — but a large part of the debate, at least as it relates to potential NBA players, is whether college is even necessary (and/or helpful) for all of them.

NCAA basketball is a lot different than the pros, beyond the level of talent you face. In college, you often get a week to prepare for one opponent, so the game plan ends up being schemed for that particular matchup. In the NBA, with the schedule so packed, coaches focus more on their own teams. Players have to improvise more at the pro level. There just isn’t enough time between games to fully prepare for any one opponent. Not to mention, there is a huge adjustment to the freedom of off-court life when you are a professional.

There are young players that would thrive with that level of responsibility, while others would benefit with the maturity that a year or more of college can bring. Perhaps NBA teams are protecting some players by forcing an age limit on the draft, but we have proof — Kobe and LeBron being the best examples — that some guys are ready sooner than the league currently allows. While I understand that exceptions don’t always prove the rule, we have more than enough cases to show that this is not a one-size-fits-all situation. NBA draft rules should accommodate that.

Just look at this year’s Kentucky team for an example. Coach has a bunch of potential pros sacrificing for each other and for the betterment of the team, and the result may be college’s first perfect season(!) in nearly four decades. They have been great to watch. Who can possibly argue that college basketball this season would be better off without this Wildcats team, or that next season will be worse once some of the best freshmen move on, in Lexington and elsewhere? Players like Jahlil Okafor and D’Angelo Russell have earned that right to make that choice.

Losing some stars after just a season has little to do with the quality — or lack thereof — of the college game today. I’d love to see the NCAA game open up by stopping defenses from packing the paint, for starters. And while many college teams would benefit from being able to keep their players together longer, it becomes a slippery slope when it comes to “student-athletes” on non-guaranteed scholarships who are at risk of injury every time they step out on the court. The pressure and benefits of leaving for financial security are very real.

What we need is an understanding amongst all the parties — the NCAA, the NBA, and the players and their families — that there is a lot at stake on all sides. Any one solution, whether its increasing the age-limit restriction, paying college athletes (an approach I am not on board with, but that’s a post for another day), or something else entirely, may end up opening a can of worms worse than what we have now. The current system treats players as commodities, but we are not.

The sooner everyone involved understands that our needs and wants as players are as individual as we are as people, the closer we will be to making changes that make sense for everyone.
 
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So with that sixers win last night, we may now lose our top 5 pick.

Sixers line up next year:

Mudiay (3rd pick)

Wroten

Winslow (our 6th pick)

Noel

Embiid

Our line up:

Rondo

Kobe

Young

Randle

Love
 
The NBA Choice: No One-Size-Fits-All Approach

Coach Calipari’s undefeated Kentucky Wildcats are back in the Final Four — but that doesn’t mean the current NCAA system is perfect.

By Julius Randle

I knew what it was immediately and I knew it was serious.

Season opener at home, Staples Center, my professional debut with the Los Angeles Lakers. The Rockets were in town. Dwight Howard, James Harden — it doesn’t get any bigger than that for a 19-year-old rookie. Kobe Bryant, coming off an Achilles tear last year, was back in the starting lineup where he belonged, and even though outsiders didn’t think our team would contend for anything, there was a clear sense of optimism and purpose inside our locker room. Kobe demands no less, but it wasn’t just his presence; the collective confidence in the room was palpable.

13 minutes and 34 seconds.

That’s how long it took for the entirety of my first season in the NBA to come to a crashing halt. Fractured tibia, they told me. I would need surgery, and I was done for the year. It happened on a routine play. I drove toward the basket like I had done thousands of times before, only this time, when I planted my right leg to go up for the score, I heard a pop.

There was no pain. There was just that pop, and the immediate realization that there was no point in even trying to stand up.

That was the night of Oct. 28, 2014. Now, just about five months to the day since my injury occurred, I am back on the court — on a non-contact basis for now — practicing with my Lakers. The leg feels great, and even though I was extremely anxious during the earliest stages of the rehab period, I never let doubts take seed in my mind. I never wavered or lost confidence.

I owe that mindset largely to Kobe. There he was, one of the greatest players of all time, one of the most recognizable athletes on the planet — and the guy who was my boyhood idol — and he’s calling and texting me on the night I got hurt, and in the days afterward. “This is no time for a pity party,” he said. “Your recovery starts NOW.”

That’s the thing about No. 24: When he says something, you listen. And you believe him.

I met Kobe for the first time last summer. He had invited me to Orange County to train with him in advance of summer league, and the experience was pretty surreal. Just a few months earlier, I had truly been agonizing over whether or not to declare for the NBA Draft after just one year at the University of Kentucky, and now I was getting schooled on the game’s finer points by a player I grew up idolizing.

Kobe, of course, never had to go through that decision process. He went straight to the NBA from high school, just like Kevin Garnett, Tracy McGrady and LeBron James. Those guys were elite athletes at age 18, each “boy” capable of playing with men despite their lack of experience, and despite never attending college or learning from a top-notch NCAA coach.

Yes, there were others in their era who jumped and never truly made it, but I believe that decision — whether a year or more in college will be beneficial — should be left up to the individual. Once you make the choice, it’s on you.

To be perfectly honest, I, too, thought I could compete with anyone in the world coming out of high school. Before I even stepped foot on Kentucky’s campus, I was confident in my ability to become a member of the so-called “One and Done” club that quickly passes through the college ranks on the way to the NBA. What I didn’t expect was for my college experience to be so amazing. It helped me in a ton of ways on and off the court, and gave me a lot to think about before I made the decision to declare for last year’s draft.

First off, there’s no college experience like playing for the University of Kentucky, and it starts with the fan base. The fans are absolutely ridiculous, in a great way. When you play for the Wildcats, you’re like a member of their family. Those who wear the blue and white are treated like rock stars around town. Our fans live and breathe the game, and the passion runs year-round.

When people ask me what makes playing basketball there so different, I laugh, and I tell them, “Imagine practicing in front of 10,000 people; that’s why UK is the most amazing program in the country.” Elements of that level of devotion may exist elsewhere, but in Kentucky, you are never forgotten. Guys who played there 20 years ago will get mobbed if they show up on the streets of Lexington. Antoine Walker, Jamal Mashburn, Rex Chapman, Tayshaun Prince, it doesn’t matter — every single one of them is beloved.

I chose Kentucky, though, for one reason above all others:
Coach Cal, plain and simple.

I basically decided to play for him during my freshman year at Prestonwood Christian High School in Texas. I couldn’t officially commit until my senior year, but the decision was an obvious and easy one for me. It was always going to be Calipari. Part of it was the style of play he ran — I saw what he had done in the past with other players — but a major piece was what happened throughout the recruiting process, both in-person and on the phone. When you move past his custom suits and quick retorts, Coach is the face of a family-oriented environment at Kentucky, and for an African-American kid from Dallas like me, this was no minor thing.

I grew up in a single-parent family, and I had a pretty big chip on my shoulder. I also had issues trusting people, but with Coach, my trust in him was implicit from the start. He treated me like one of his own sons, and in the end, he molded me into a better man and a better person. I may have thought I was ready for the NBA before Kentucky, but from a mental and emotional perspective, I probably wasn’t. And that’s the thing: the lessons I learned in one year of college extend far beyond the basketball court. I was taught accountability. I was taught responsibility. I was given tools I am going to need for the rest of my life.

Julius :smokin solid writing
 
The NBA Choice: No One-Size-Fits-All Approach

Coach Calipari’s undefeated Kentucky Wildcats are back in the Final Four — but that doesn’t mean the current NCAA system is perfect.

By Julius Randle
I knew what it was immediately and I knew it was serious.

Season opener at home, Staples Center, my professional debut with the Los Angeles Lakers. The Rockets were in town. Dwight Howard, James Harden — it doesn’t get any bigger than that for a 19-year-old rookie. Kobe Bryant, coming off an Achilles tear last year, was back in the starting lineup where he belonged, and even though outsiders didn’t think our team would contend for anything, there was a clear sense of optimism and purpose inside our locker room. Kobe demands no less, but it wasn’t just his presence; the collective confidence in the room was palpable.

13 minutes and 34 seconds.

That’s how long it took for the entirety of my first season in the NBA to come to a crashing halt. Fractured tibia, they told me. I would need surgery, and I was done for the year. It happened on a routine play. I drove toward the basket like I had done thousands of times before, only this time, when I planted my right leg to go up for the score, I heard a pop.

There was no pain. There was just that pop, and the immediate realization that there was no point in even trying to stand up.

That was the night of Oct. 28, 2014. Now, just about five months to the day since my injury occurred, I am back on the court — on a non-contact basis for now — practicing with my Lakers. The leg feels great, and even though I was extremely anxious during the earliest stages of the rehab period, I never let doubts take seed in my mind. I never wavered or lost confidence.

I owe that mindset largely to Kobe. There he was, one of the greatest players of all time, one of the most recognizable athletes on the planet — and the guy who was my boyhood idol — and he’s calling and texting me on the night I got hurt, and in the days afterward. “This is no time for a pity party,” he said. “Your recovery starts NOW.”

That’s the thing about No. 24: When he says something, you listen. And you believe him.

I met Kobe for the first time last summer. He had invited me to Orange County to train with him in advance of summer league, and the experience was pretty surreal. Just a few months earlier, I had truly been agonizing over whether or not to declare for the NBA Draft after just one year at the University of Kentucky, and now I was getting schooled on the game’s finer points by a player I grew up idolizing.

Kobe, of course, never had to go through that decision process. He went straight to the NBA from high school, just like Kevin Garnett, Tracy McGrady and LeBron James. Those guys were elite athletes at age 18, each “boy” capable of playing with men despite their lack of experience, and despite never attending college or learning from a top-notch NCAA coach.

Yes, there were others in their era who jumped and never truly made it, but I believe that decision — whether a year or more in college will be beneficial — should be left up to the individual. Once you make the choice, it’s on you.

To be perfectly honest, I, too, thought I could compete with anyone in the world coming out of high school. Before I even stepped foot on Kentucky’s campus, I was confident in my ability to become a member of the so-called “One and Done” club that quickly passes through the college ranks on the way to the NBA. What I didn’t expect was for my college experience to be so amazing. It helped me in a ton of ways on and off the court, and gave me a lot to think about before I made the decision to declare for last year’s draft.

First off, there’s no college experience like playing for the University of Kentucky, and it starts with the fan base. The fans are absolutely ridiculous, in a great way. When you play for the Wildcats, you’re like a member of their family. Those who wear the blue and white are treated like rock stars around town. Our fans live and breathe the game, and the passion runs year-round.

When people ask me what makes playing basketball there so different, I laugh, and I tell them, “Imagine practicing in front of 10,000 people; that’s why UK is the most amazing program in the country.” Elements of that level of devotion may exist elsewhere, but in Kentucky, you are never forgotten. Guys who played there 20 years ago will get mobbed if they show up on the streets of Lexington. Antoine Walker, Jamal Mashburn, Rex Chapman, Tayshaun Prince, it doesn’t matter — every single one of them is beloved.

I chose Kentucky, though, for one reason above all others:
Coach Cal, plain and simple.

I basically decided to play for him during my freshman year at Prestonwood Christian High School in Texas. I couldn’t officially commit until my senior year, but the decision was an obvious and easy one for me. It was always going to be Calipari. Part of it was the style of play he ran — I saw what he had done in the past with other players — but a major piece was what happened throughout the recruiting process, both in-person and on the phone. When you move past his custom suits and quick retorts, Coach is the face of a family-oriented environment at Kentucky, and for an African-American kid from Dallas like me, this was no minor thing.

I grew up in a single-parent family, and I had a pretty big chip on my shoulder. I also had issues trusting people, but with Coach, my trust in him was implicit from the start. He treated me like one of his own sons, and in the end, he molded me into a better man and a better person. I may have thought I was ready for the NBA before Kentucky, but from a mental and emotional perspective, I probably wasn’t. And that’s the thing: the lessons I learned in one year of college extend far beyond the basketball court. I was taught accountability. I was taught responsibility. I was given tools I am going to need for the rest of my life.

In the end, the decision to turn pro ended up being far tougher than I ever expected. Not only did my teammates and I suffer a heart-breaking loss to Connecticut in the NCAA Tournament title game — in my home town, no less — but we also left the job we set out to do together undone. Plus, I really loved being a college student. Giving up that life wasn’t something I took lightly. This, despite the fact that some fans think that if a college player can get paid at the next level, then what else is there to think about?

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Man, Julius, what if you had stayed at Kentucky and broken your leg. Where would you be then?!”

You’re right; I won’t try to deny it. I, myself, have wondered the same thing at times, mostly when the days rehabbing my injury were longest and bleakest. But just because the security of my first NBA contract soften the blow of my injury, that doesn’t mean I believe that leaving college after one year is the right move for every player who is projected to be drafted high into the pros.

For me, things went down the way they did for reasons that were beyond my control and my comprehension. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and God puts us where we are supposed to be when we are supposed to be there. If there was anyone who ensured I was ready for the NBA, though, it was Coach. The only thing left was to win a championship, and as important as that was to me, and as special as that would have been to accomplish with my teammates, my mind was made up.

All I can say is that I have no regrets. Even if I hadn’t gotten hurt in my first pro game, I would trust that the decision I made was the right one for me.

Since last summer, I have spent countless hours watching and talking about basketball with Kobe. Not many people get that kind of opportunity, but it’s allowed me to study the game in a way I never could when I was actively playing it, and think about the path to development in more nuanced ways.

Meanwhile, there has been A LOT of critique about the college game this season — offense is lagging, players can’t shoot, there are too many timeouts, the game is over-coached — but a large part of the debate, at least as it relates to potential NBA players, is whether college is even necessary (and/or helpful) for all of them.

NCAA basketball is a lot different than the pros, beyond the level of talent you face. In college, you often get a week to prepare for one opponent, so the game plan ends up being schemed for that particular matchup. In the NBA, with the schedule so packed, coaches focus more on their own teams. Players have to improvise more at the pro level. There just isn’t enough time between games to fully prepare for any one opponent. Not to mention, there is a huge adjustment to the freedom of off-court life when you are a professional.

There are young players that would thrive with that level of responsibility, while others would benefit with the maturity that a year or more of college can bring. Perhaps NBA teams are protecting some players by forcing an age limit on the draft, but we have proof — Kobe and LeBron being the best examples — that some guys are ready sooner than the league currently allows. While I understand that exceptions don’t always prove the rule, we have more than enough cases to show that this is not a one-size-fits-all situation. NBA draft rules should accommodate that.

Just look at this year’s Kentucky team for an example. Coach has a bunch of potential pros sacrificing for each other and for the betterment of the team, and the result may be college’s first perfect season(!) in nearly four decades. They have been great to watch. Who can possibly argue that college basketball this season would be better off without this Wildcats team, or that next season will be worse once some of the best freshmen move on, in Lexington and elsewhere? Players like Jahlil Okafor and D’Angelo Russell have earned that right to make that choice.

Losing some stars after just a season has little to do with the quality — or lack thereof — of the college game today. I’d love to see the NCAA game open up by stopping defenses from packing the paint, for starters. And while many college teams would benefit from being able to keep their players together longer, it becomes a slippery slope when it comes to “student-athletes” on non-guaranteed scholarships who are at risk of injury every time they step out on the court. The pressure and benefits of leaving for financial security are very real.

What we need is an understanding amongst all the parties — the NCAA, the NBA, and the players and their families — that there is a lot at stake on all sides. Any one solution, whether its increasing the age-limit restriction, paying college athletes (an approach I am not on board with, but that’s a post for another day), or something else entirely, may end up opening a can of worms worse than what we have now. The current system treats players as commodities, but we are not.

The sooner everyone involved understands that our needs and wants as players are as individual as we are as people, the closer we will be to making changes that make sense for everyone.
Julius is on point about NCAA basketball. 

God bless this kid.
 
The NBA Choice: No One-Size-Fits-All Approach

Coach Calipari’s undefeated Kentucky Wildcats are back in the Final Four — but that doesn’t mean the current NCAA system is perfect.

By Julius Randle

I knew what it was immediately and I knew it was serious.

Season opener at home, Staples Center, my professional debut with the Los Angeles Lakers. The Rockets were in town. Dwight Howard, James Harden — it doesn’t get any bigger than that for a 19-year-old rookie. Kobe Bryant, coming off an Achilles tear last year, was back in the starting lineup where he belonged, and even though outsiders didn’t think our team would contend for anything, there was a clear sense of optimism and purpose inside our locker room. Kobe demands no less, but it wasn’t just his presence; the collective confidence in the room was palpable.

13 minutes and 34 seconds.

That’s how long it took for the entirety of my first season in the NBA to come to a crashing halt. Fractured tibia, they told me. I would need surgery, and I was done for the year. It happened on a routine play. I drove toward the basket like I had done thousands of times before, only this time, when I planted my right leg to go up for the score, I heard a pop.

There was no pain. There was just that pop, and the immediate realization that there was no point in even trying to stand up.

That was the night of Oct. 28, 2014. Now, just about five months to the day since my injury occurred, I am back on the court — on a non-contact basis for now — practicing with my Lakers. The leg feels great, and even though I was extremely anxious during the earliest stages of the rehab period, I never let doubts take seed in my mind. I never wavered or lost confidence.

I owe that mindset largely to Kobe. There he was, one of the greatest players of all time, one of the most recognizable athletes on the planet — and the guy who was my boyhood idol — and he’s calling and texting me on the night I got hurt, and in the days afterward. “This is no time for a pity party,” he said. “Your recovery starts NOW.”

That’s the thing about No. 24: When he says something, you listen. And you believe him.

I met Kobe for the first time last summer. He had invited me to Orange County to train with him in advance of summer league, and the experience was pretty surreal. Just a few months earlier, I had truly been agonizing over whether or not to declare for the NBA Draft after just one year at the University of Kentucky, and now I was getting schooled on the game’s finer points by a player I grew up idolizing.

Kobe, of course, never had to go through that decision process. He went straight to the NBA from high school, just like Kevin Garnett, Tracy McGrady and LeBron James. Those guys were elite athletes at age 18, each “boy” capable of playing with men despite their lack of experience, and despite never attending college or learning from a top-notch NCAA coach.

Yes, there were others in their era who jumped and never truly made it, but I believe that decision — whether a year or more in college will be beneficial — should be left up to the individual. Once you make the choice, it’s on you.

To be perfectly honest, I, too, thought I could compete with anyone in the world coming out of high school. Before I even stepped foot on Kentucky’s campus, I was confident in my ability to become a member of the so-called “One and Done” club that quickly passes through the college ranks on the way to the NBA. What I didn’t expect was for my college experience to be so amazing. It helped me in a ton of ways on and off the court, and gave me a lot to think about before I made the decision to declare for last year’s draft.

First off, there’s no college experience like playing for the University of Kentucky, and it starts with the fan base. The fans are absolutely ridiculous, in a great way. When you play for the Wildcats, you’re like a member of their family. Those who wear the blue and white are treated like rock stars around town. Our fans live and breathe the game, and the passion runs year-round.

When people ask me what makes playing basketball there so different, I laugh, and I tell them, “Imagine practicing in front of 10,000 people; that’s why UK is the most amazing program in the country.” Elements of that level of devotion may exist elsewhere, but in Kentucky, you are never forgotten. Guys who played there 20 years ago will get mobbed if they show up on the streets of Lexington. Antoine Walker, Jamal Mashburn, Rex Chapman, Tayshaun Prince, it doesn’t matter — every single one of them is beloved.

I chose Kentucky, though, for one reason above all others:
Coach Cal, plain and simple.

I basically decided to play for him during my freshman year at Prestonwood Christian High School in Texas. I couldn’t officially commit until my senior year, but the decision was an obvious and easy one for me. It was always going to be Calipari. Part of it was the style of play he ran — I saw what he had done in the past with other players — but a major piece was what happened throughout the recruiting process, both in-person and on the phone. When you move past his custom suits and quick retorts, Coach is the face of a family-oriented environment at Kentucky, and for an African-American kid from Dallas like me, this was no minor thing.

I grew up in a single-parent family, and I had a pretty big chip on my shoulder. I also had issues trusting people, but with Coach, my trust in him was implicit from the start. He treated me like one of his own sons, and in the end, he molded me into a better man and a better person. I may have thought I was ready for the NBA before Kentucky, but from a mental and emotional perspective, I probably wasn’t. And that’s the thing: the lessons I learned in one year of college extend far beyond the basketball court. I was taught accountability. I was taught responsibility. I was given tools I am going to need for the rest of my life.

In the end, the decision to turn pro ended up being far tougher than I ever expected. Not only did my teammates and I suffer a heart-breaking loss to Connecticut in the NCAA Tournament title game — in my home town, no less — but we also left the job we set out to do together undone. Plus, I really loved being a college student. Giving up that life wasn’t something I took lightly. This, despite the fact that some fans think that if a college player can get paid at the next level, then what else is there to think about?

Now, I know what you’re thinking. “Man, Julius, what if you had stayed at Kentucky and broken your leg. Where would you be then?!”

You’re right; I won’t try to deny it. I, myself, have wondered the same thing at times, mostly when the days rehabbing my injury were longest and bleakest. But just because the security of my first NBA contract soften the blow of my injury, that doesn’t mean I believe that leaving college after one year is the right move for every player who is projected to be drafted high into the pros.

For me, things went down the way they did for reasons that were beyond my control and my comprehension. I believe that everything happens for a reason, and God puts us where we are supposed to be when we are supposed to be there. If there was anyone who ensured I was ready for the NBA, though, it was Coach. The only thing left was to win a championship, and as important as that was to me, and as special as that would have been to accomplish with my teammates, my mind was made up.

All I can say is that I have no regrets. Even if I hadn’t gotten hurt in my first pro game, I would trust that the decision I made was the right one for me.

Since last summer, I have spent countless hours watching and talking about basketball with Kobe. Not many people get that kind of opportunity, but it’s allowed me to study the game in a way I never could when I was actively playing it, and think about the path to development in more nuanced ways.

Meanwhile, there has been A LOT of critique about the college game this season — offense is lagging, players can’t shoot, there are too many timeouts, the game is over-coached — but a large part of the debate, at least as it relates to potential NBA players, is whether college is even necessary (and/or helpful) for all of them.

NCAA basketball is a lot different than the pros, beyond the level of talent you face. In college, you often get a week to prepare for one opponent, so the game plan ends up being schemed for that particular matchup. In the NBA, with the schedule so packed, coaches focus more on their own teams. Players have to improvise more at the pro level. There just isn’t enough time between games to fully prepare for any one opponent. Not to mention, there is a huge adjustment to the freedom of off-court life when you are a professional.

There are young players that would thrive with that level of responsibility, while others would benefit with the maturity that a year or more of college can bring. Perhaps NBA teams are protecting some players by forcing an age limit on the draft, but we have proof — Kobe and LeBron being the best examples — that some guys are ready sooner than the league currently allows. While I understand that exceptions don’t always prove the rule, we have more than enough cases to show that this is not a one-size-fits-all situation. NBA draft rules should accommodate that.

Just look at this year’s Kentucky team for an example. Coach has a bunch of potential pros sacrificing for each other and for the betterment of the team, and the result may be college’s first perfect season(!) in nearly four decades. They have been great to watch. Who can possibly argue that college basketball this season would be better off without this Wildcats team, or that next season will be worse once some of the best freshmen move on, in Lexington and elsewhere? Players like Jahlil Okafor and D’Angelo Russell have earned that right to make that choice.

Losing some stars after just a season has little to do with the quality — or lack thereof — of the college game today. I’d love to see the NCAA game open up by stopping defenses from packing the paint, for starters. And while many college teams would benefit from being able to keep their players together longer, it becomes a slippery slope when it comes to “student-athletes” on non-guaranteed scholarships who are at risk of injury every time they step out on the court. The pressure and benefits of leaving for financial security are very real.

What we need is an understanding amongst all the parties — the NCAA, the NBA, and the players and their families — that there is a lot at stake on all sides. Any one solution, whether its increasing the age-limit restriction, paying college athletes (an approach I am not on board with, but that’s a post for another day), or something else entirely, may end up opening a can of worms worse than what we have now. The current system treats players as commodities, but we are not.

The sooner everyone involved understands that our needs and wants as players are as individual as we are as people, the closer we will be to making changes that make sense for everyone.

Good read. He kneeds to write more. :smokin
 
Damn can the lottery happen before we even talk about losing the pick?

Yeesh yall talking about like its for sure gonna happen.
 
True but I think this is common knowledge :lol

IMO These 2 draft classes(last yr/this yr) are farrrrrrr superior

Best back to back since 07, 08?
 
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