The ball careened off the rim and into the hands of Pietrus, another clutch jumper missed by Kobe Bryant.
Magic, 87. Lakers, 82. 1:02 left.
By all indications, the Lakers were done. They were visibly weary and deflated from battling the Orlando Magic. The 17k+ packed inside of Amway Arena. The whistles, or non-whistles, of Bennett Salvatore, Mike Callahan and Scott Foster. The mounting pressure of not having won a Finals game away from Staples Center since 2002.
This was supposed to be the defining moment for the Orlando Magic.
It’s been said that you can live your whole life in one manner, stray from it for just a single moment, and be judged by that moment for the rest of history. History is not a record of lengthy accounts; it’s a record of defining moments. If you think about it, we only read a story if the ending is worthy of enduring the journey it took to get there. Why suffer through the expedition if the destination is never realized?
The Los Angeles Lakers are on the threshold of history – A chance to erase the bitter memories of last years’ NBA Finals. Perfectly interlaced in the Lakers story looms a surplus of subplots anxiously waiting to be defined.
