Welcome back to the Deep Dive. It is February
18th, 2026. And I want you to picture the scene
outside Crypto .com Arena last night. You've
got the statues, you know, Kobe, Shaq, Magic,
Kareem, and they're all bathed in that classic
purple light. And then you have this absolute
sea of people, thousands of them, and they aren't
wearing number 23 anymore. They're not even wearing
number three. They're wearing number 77. It is
a visual that still doesn't feel quite real,
does it? Luka Donicic in purple and gold. I mean,
even a year after the fact, it kind of feels
like a glitch in the simulation. It really does.
Yeah. We are sitting here exactly one year and
17 days removed from the trade that, I mean,
it shook the earth. Yeah. And we're just a few
months removed from the other earthquake, the
sale of the team. Yeah. If you're a basketball
fan, or honestly, even if you just pay attention
to the business of pop culture, the last 12 months
in Los Angeles have been just absolutely unrelenting.
Unrelenting is the perfect word. We are looking
at a franchise that has effectively reinvented
its entire identity while at the same time desperately
trying to keep the same face on. It's like we're
watching a real time experiment. An experiment
in what exactly? Well, can you surgically transplant
the heart of a franchise? I'm talking both ownership
and superstar without killing the patient. That
is the perfect way to frame it. Because here's
the thing that kept bugging me as I was going
through the massive stack of sources for today's
deep dive. We always talk about the Lakers as
this inevitability. Right. It's just supposed
to happen. Exactly. Of course they have the stars.
Of course they have the rings. It's the purple
and gold. It's Hollywood. It's the Laker way.
But that inevitability is a myth. Or maybe more
accurately, it's a very carefully constructed
reality. Right. And that's the hook. That's what
we want to get into. How does a team... that
started as a literal failed franchise in Detroit.
And I'm not talking about the Pistons. I'm talking
about the Detroit Gems, a team that went 4 -44
in high school, Jim. How does that wreckage become
the glitziest, most expensive, most culturally
significant brand in basketball history? It's
the ultimate glow -up story. But when you really
dig into the records, you know, into the transaction
logs from 1947 all the way to the Luca trade
of 2025, you realize it wasn't an accident. There
is a specific DNA, a very specific philosophy
that connects George Mikan in a freezing Minneapolis
armory to Luka Doncic stepping back for a three
pointer in Los Angeles today. So that is our
mission today. We're going to trace that DNA.
We're going to look at the dynasties, the heartbreaks
that people forget about. And believe me, there
are some brutal ones. Oh, yeah. We'll get into
the Showtime era, the Kobe Shack soap opera and
land right here in 2026 to understand what this
new ownership of this new superstar mean for
the future. And we really have to start with
the present because everything that happened
in the last year or so is actually a perfect
mirror of the last 70 years. If you understand
the Luca trade, you pretty much understand the
entire history of the Lakers. OK, let's unpack
that, because I think for a lot of our listeners,
the shock of February 1st, 2025, so just over
a year ago, is probably still wearing off. The
blockbuster trade. I mean, it was a trade that's
going to define the decade, right? The Lakers
sent Anthony Davis, Max Christie, and a 2029
unprotected first -round pick to the Dallas Mavericks.
And it wasn't just a simple two -team deal, was
it? It was a three -teamer. Because the money
just didn't work otherwise. Correct. The Utah
Jazz had to get involved to facilitate the salary
cap math. You know, the Lakers were operating
above the second apron, which is this super restrictive
salary cap tier that basically handcuffs you
from making moves. You can't aggregate salaries
in a normal way. Exactly. So they had to route
pieces through Utah to make it all legal. But
at the end of the day, the headline was simple.
Anthony Davis out, Luka Donicich in. And Maxi
Kleber. And Markeith Morris, let's not forget
the death pieces that came along with him. But
really, it was A .D. for Luka. I remember the
reaction so vividly. People were just stunned
that the Lakers would move off Davis after everything
he did, specifically that 2020 title. He was
their defensive anchor. So why did they do it?
They did it because of what I'd call the first
law of Laker physics. And that is the Lakers
do not rebuild. That is the cardinal rule. Never.
Never. When a championship window starts to creak
shut and with LeBron entering his 40s and Davis
having his well -documented injury history, most
teams would tear it down. They would trade the
stars for five or six draft picks and just accept
being bad for three, four, maybe five years.
Like what Oklahoma City did or what Utah did
just a few years back, the big yard sale. Exactly.
But the Lakers can't be bad. The brand value,
that staggering $10 million number we'll talk
about later, is predicated on having stars on
the court. So instead of rebuilding, they reloaded.
They went out and got the next generational superstar
to extend the window. It's a pattern. It's the
whole pattern. They did it when they got Kareem
to bridge the post -willed era. They did it when
they got Shaq to end the drought of the 90s.
Acquiring Luka Donica to pair with an elder statesman,
LeBron James, is, I mean, it's the most Lakers
move possible. It's the idea that the Lakers
are never really. They're building for the future.
They're just waiting for the next guy to show
up. Precisely. And just look at the roster now
in this 2025 -26 season. It is surreal. You have
Luca, the new centerpiece running the entire
show. You have Austin Reeves, who has become
such a staple, almost like the Derek Fisher of
this era. Just steady, reliable, knows his role.
And a fan favorite, too. Huge fan favorite. And
then you have J .J. Reddick, who was hired back
in June of 2024, trying to manage all these massive
egos and make it work. And then, of course, you
have the history -making duo. We have to talk
about LeBron and Bronny. I still get chills thinking
about it. October 23, 2024. The season opener.
Against Minnesota, of all teams. It was a moment
that just transcended the sport. LeBron James
and Bronny James becoming the first father -son
duo to play together in an NBA game. I don't
care what you think about the nepotism arguments
or the draft position. Seeing them check into
the game together for the first time was just
pure history. It was. And currently, LeBron is
still listed on the roster for his age 41 season.
He's obviously not the 2013 athletic. force of
nature LeBron anymore, but he's still contributing
at a high level. He's completely evolved his
game. He's playing off the ball more, letting
Luka cook, preserving his body. But that father
-son dynamic speaks to why the Lakers are different.
I mean, any other franchise might have shied
away from the circus that comes with drafting
a superstar son who might not be fully NBA ready
from day one. Well, for sure. The media attention
alone is a lot. A ton. But the Lakers leaned
into it. They understand that they are in the
entertainment business just as much as they are
in the basketball business. Having LeBron at
age 41 playing alongside his son while Luka Donicic
throws no -look passes. I mean, that is pure
box office. But here's where the plot thickens.
Because usually when we talk about the Lakers'
box office feel, we are talking about the Buss
family. Dr. Jerry Buss and then his daughter,
Jeannie Buss. The mom -and -pop shop of the NBA
just on a much grander scale. Right. But late
2025 changed everything. This is the part that
I think historians will look back on as the definitive
end of an era, the sale to Mark Walter. The Dodgers
owner, a guy with deep, deep pockets. The deepest.
For decades, the Buss family held onto the Lakers
as their primary source of income and identity.
It was the family business. If the Lakers lost
money, the Buss family couldn't pay their bills.
But the NBA landscape has just. It's changed.
It's the era of the deca billionaires now. You've
got Steve Ballmer with the Clippers, who's worth,
what, $100 billion? Exactly. The Suns have Matt
Ishbia. The buses, as wealthy as they were, were
getting priced out of their own game. They couldn't
compete with that level of capital. So in late
2025, the deal was approved, valued at $10 billion.
$10 billion. That number is just staggering.
It's the highest valuation for a sports team
in history. And Mark Walter acquired majority
control. Now, part of the deal is that Jeannie
Buss remains as governor, and she's the face
you see at the games. But make no mistake, the
financial muscle, the real power, has fundamentally
shifted. What does that actually mean for the
fan—for the— person buying the ticket well it
means the family store model is officially gone
we are now in the corporate conglomerate era
of the lakers on one hand it means unlimited
resources mark walter can pay any luxury tax
bill without even blinking but on the other hand
there is this kind of palpable fear that the
laker family vibe what do you mean by that you
know the idea that they take care of their own
Where they say overpay Kobe at the end of his
career just out of loyalty, there's a fear that
might be replaced by cold, hard analytics and
bottom line decisions. That is the tension of
2026, isn't it? Yeah. Can you keep the soul of
the family business but operate with the wallet
of a hedge fund? That is the billion dollar question,
or I guess the $10 million question. But to understand
what they're trying to preserve or what is at
risk of being lost, we have to go back. We have
to understand what they built that $10 billion
valuation on in the first place. And that takes
us to the most un -Hollywood beginning imaginable.
Detroit, 1946. Detroit gems. I love this nugget.
I feel like 99 % of Lakers fans don't know this
part of the story. If you buy a Lakers jersey
today, you are indirectly supporting a franchise
that started as the gems in the NBL, and they
were just... Terrible. They weren't just terrible.
They were historically bad. Their record was
four and forty four. They played in the National
Basketball League, which was a precursor to the
NBA. And you mentioned it before. They played
their home games at Ferndale High School. Wait,
literally a high school, not a college gym or
a small arena. Literally a high school gymnasium.
The team was a complete disaster. They were losing
games by 30 or 40 points in an era where teams
were only scoring like 60 points total. It was
a farce. So how on earth does that wreckage become
the Lakers? Two men, Ben Berger and Morris Chelfin.
They were Minnesota businessmen. They saw an
opportunity. They bought the team in 1947 for
$15 ,000. $15 ,000. I mean, you can't even buy
a courtside seat for a big Lakers game for $15
,000 today. Inflation is a funny thing, but yeah.
And here is the kicker. And here's where the
branding genius... Or maybe just accidental genius
started. They needed a name that fit Minnesota.
The land of 10 ,000 lakes, hence the Lakers.
It makes zero sense in Los Angeles, which has,
what, a handful of lakes and certainly not 10
,000 of them. But in Minneapolis, it was perfect.
But a name doesn't win games. They needed a star.
And this is the very first instance of a Lakers
core strategy. Get the giant. George Mikan, number
99. The first true superstar of professional
basketball. We really cannot overstate how dominant
Mikan was for his time. He was 6 '10", wore these
thick round glasses, and he literally forced
the league to change its rules to contain him.
In what way? What rules did they change? Well,
before Mikan, basketball was a game for, you
know, 6 '2 guys who ran around and shot set shots.
Big men were considered clumsy, uncoordinated.
Goons, basically. Mikan had soft hands. He could
score with either hand, the famous Mikan drill
that every kid does today. He invented that.
So he was a skill player in a giant's body. Exactly.
And he was so dominant in the paint that the
NBA widened the lane from six feet to 12 feet
just to push him further away from the basket.
They called it the Mikan rule. They also introduced
the goaltending rule because he would just stand
under the basket and swat away any shot on its
way down. Unbelievable. He led them to five championships
in six years between 1940. in 1954. That is just
absolute dominance. It was the league's first
real dynasty. But there is a fun fact in the
notes here that just blows my mind every time
I see it. The lowest scoring game in NBA history
happened specifically because of Mikan. This
was in 1950. Lakers versus the Fort Wayne Pistons.
November 22, 1950. The Fort Wayne Pistons looked
at the scouting report and said, look, if Mikan
gets the ball, he scores. If he scores, we lose.
So the only way to win is to make sure Mikan
never touches the ball. And this is, crucially,
before the shot clock existed. Exactly. There
was no 24 -second violation. So the Pistons get
the tip off, and they just hold the ball. Larry
Faust, one of their players, just stood near
midcourt holding the ball on his hip. The Lakers
stood in their zone defense just waiting, and
they just stood there. What was the crowd doing?
The crowd was booing, throwing pennies on the
court. It was a complete farce. It was an embarrassment
to the sport. And the final score of that game?
The Pistons won 19 -18. Mikan scored 15 of the
Lakers' 18 points. It was the game that nearly
killed the league, but also proved that Mikan
was so terrifying that opposing teams would rather
ruin the sport than actually play against him.
That is true power. But all dynasties end. Viking
retired. His body broke down. The team started
to struggle financially in the late 50s. And
then there's this what -if moment in their history
that is genuinely terrifying. The plane crash.
January 18, 1960. The team is flying back from
a game in St. Louis. It's a DC -3, a propeller
plane, not a jet. and a massive snowstorm hits.
Just picture this for a second. It's pitch black
outside. It's freezing. They're in this tiny
plane. And the pilot loses all electrical power.
The radio goes dead. The navigation is gone.
He is flying completely blind in a blizzard with
the entire Minneapolis Lakers roster in the back.
I mean, a young Elgin Baylor is on that plane.
Hot Rod Humley is on that plane. And the pilot
has to literally open the cockpit window to scrape
ice off the windshield? Yes. He is literally
hanging out the window with a scraper, trying
to see the ground. He spots a cornfield. in Carroll,
Iowa. He has no other choice. He manages to crash
land the plane in the snow. And everyone survived.
Miraculously, everyone survived. They spent the
night huddled in the wreckage in the cornfield
until help arrived the next morning. But you
just have to think about the fragility of history.
If that landing goes differently, the Lakers
franchise likely ceases to exist. There is no
Magic, no Kobe, no LeBron in L .A. The entire
history of the NBA is rewritten in an Iowa cornfield.
That is just chilling to think about. But they
do survive. And shortly after that, in 1960,
the owner at the time, Bob Short, makes the call.
They're moving west. They become the first West
Coast NBA team. And this move fundamentally changed
the identity of the league. It went from a regional
East Coast Midwest bus league to a truly national
product. But when they got to L .A., they didn't
bring the winning with them immediately. They
brought the stars, yes, but they also brought
a decade of heartbreak. This is the Jerry West
era. The logo and, of course, Sylvain Baylor.
Two of the greatest players to ever touch a basketball.
Elgin Baylor was the forerunner to Dr. J and
Michael Jordan. He was this high flying above
the rim player in an era of set shooters. I mean,
the man scored 71 points in a regular season
game. He scored 61 points in a finals game, which
is still a record. And Jerry West, Mr. Clutch,
a relentless, obsessive competitor who is the
platonic ideal of a shooting guard. But for a
guy nicknamed Mr. Clutch, the 1960s were an absolute
nightmare for him. It was the decade of almost.
The Lakers made the NBA Finals six times in the
1960s. And they lost to the Boston Celtics every
single time. Times. It has to be some kind of
psychological torture. It was. Jerry West has
talked about how it haunted him his entire life.
He felt like a failure, despite being arguably
the best guard in the league. The worst moment
had to be 1962. Game seven, Boston Garden. The
Lakers have a chance to win it all in regulation.
Frank Selvey, a reliable shooter, has an open
look from about 18 feet. The championship winning
shot. A shot. Klang. The ball bounces off the
rim. The game goes to overtime. The Celtics win.
Frank Selvey said 40 years later, he still thinks
about that shot every single day. It was the
defining moment of the curse. And then there
is 1969. This is one of those stats that just
sounds fake. Jerry West wins finals MVP on the
losing team. The only time it has ever happened
in NBA history. By 1969, the Lakers had acquired
Wilt Chamberlain, another instance of that get
the giant superstar strategy. So now you have
a super team. West. Baylor and Wilt. Should have
been unbeatable. On paper, yeah. They play the
Celtics again. Game 7 is in Los Angeles at the
Forum. The owner, Jack Kent Cook, was so confident
they were going to win that he had thousands
of purple and gold balloons suspended in the
rafters. Oh no, you do not jinx it like that.
That's rule number one. He even put little notices
on all the seats saying, when the Lakers win,
look up for the balloon drop. The Celtics saw
the balloons during warm -ups. Bill Russell,
the Celtics legend, looked at Wes and basically
said, those balloons are staying up there. And
they did. They did. The Lakers imploded. Wilt
got hurt or said he was hurt. The Celtics won.
Jerry West had a triple -double. He averaged
nearly 38 points in the series. He was absolutely
magnificent. But he had to walk out to center
court to accept the finals MVP trophy while the
Celtics were popping champagne in his arena.
He looked like he wanted to throw the trophy
through a wall. So the narrative at this point
is that the Lakers are cursed. They're the team
that has the Hollywood glitz. They have the individual
stars. But they just can't beat the gritty. team
-oriented Celtics. When does that finally change?
It changes with a coach named Bill Sharman and
a magical season in 1971 -72. This is the moment
the Los Angeles Lakers finally stepped out of
the shadow of Minneapolis and Boston. And this
is the season of the streak. The 33 -game winning
streak. It is still the longest winning streak
in the history of major American professional
team sports, not just the NBA. Baseball, football,
hockey, nobody has won 33 in a row. And the irony
is, it happened right after Elgin Baylor, the
franchise icon, retired. That is the tragic part
of the story. Elgin Baylor, one of the greatest
Lakers ever, retired nine games into that season
because his knees were just completely shot.
Literally, the very next game, the streak started.
They did not lose for over two months. What changed?
Was it just that Baylor was gone? Well, that's
part of the narrative, that it freed up the offense.
But the bigger change was Bill Sharman. He invented
the shoot -around. Before him, teams just showed
up to the arena and played the game. He made
them practice on the morning of the game to get
loose. It completely professionalized the preparation.
And the players bought in. Completely. Wilt Chamberlain
reinvented himself from a guy who needed to score
50 to a dominant defender and rebounder. Jerry
West became the primary playmaker. They were
an absolute machine. And they finally got the
ring. They beat the New York Knicks in 1972.
Wilt was the finals MVP. It was the exorcism.
They finally proved they could win the big one
in L .A. But that team was aging. West and Wilt
retired shortly after and the franchise started
to drift again. They needed a spark. They needed
magic. Literally. Literally. So let's pivot to
1979. This is, in my opinion, the birth of the
modern NBA as we know it. Dr. Jerry Buss buys
the team. And this is where the business side
of the story becomes absolutely fascinating.
He bought the Lakers, the NHL's LA Kings, and
the Forum Arena all in one package for $67 .5
million. It was a massive real estate deal that
just happened to include a basketball team. But
Dr. Buss was different from the old school owners.
Totally different. He was a chemist who made
his fortune in real estate, and he was, you know,
a bit of a playboy. He looked at NBA games, which
were pretty dour, quiet affairs at the time,
and he said, Why isn't this like a nightclub?
Why isn't this Hollywood? Enter the Laker girls.
Enter the live bands at halftime. Enter the entire
vibe. He wanted it to be an event. He raised
the ticket prices for courtside seats and made
them a status symbol where celebrities had to
be seen. But the vibe needs a conductor. And
in the 1979 draft, the Lakers had the number
one overall pick. They selected Irvin Magic Johnson.
The smile that changed the world. He was just
infectious. He was a six foot nine point guard,
which was completely unheard of. He could pass
like a little guy, but rebound like a big guy.
And he joins Kareem Abdul -Jabbar, who the Lakers
had traded for a few years prior. Again, following
the pattern, when in doubt, get the best center
in the world. Kareem was the stoic, intellectual
captain. And Magic was this enthusiastic, high
-fiving rookie. And they win the title immediately
in 1980. The rookie season of Magic Johnson is
the stuff of legend. Specifically, game six of
the 1980 finals against the 76ers. This is up
there with the flu game level of myth -making.
Kareem sprains his ankle badly in game five and
can't travel to Philadelphia for game six. So
the Lakers are flying east without their captain,
their MVP. It seems over. It does. But Magic
Johnson, a 20 -year -old rookie, gets on the
plane and sits in Kareem's designated seat. He
looks at his teammates and famously says, never
fear, Magic is here. And then he actually backs
it up. He starts the game at the center. At center,
a rookie point guard. He jumps center against
Daryl Dawkins. He plays in the post. He brings
the ball up the court. He scores 42 points, grabs
15 rebounds, and dishes out seven assists. He
played every single position on the floor that
night. They win the title, he's the finals MVP,
and Showtime is officially born. But the 80s
wasn't just a joyride for them. The Celtics were
back. The Bird versus Magic era, this rivalry,
I mean, it saved the NBA. The league was on tape
delay before these two came along. Magic and
Bird made it must -see primetime TV. But for
the Lakers, the old trauma returned in 1984.
They meet Boston in the finals again. And the
Lakers were the better team. They were faster,
more talented, but they made critical mental
errors. This is where the nickname Tragic Johnson
comes from, right? It was brutal. Magic made
a bad pass at the end of game two. He had the
ball stolen from him in a key moment in game
four. They lost in seven games in the boiling
hot Boston Garden. The media just crucified him.
They said Showtime was just flash with no substance.
They said they couldn't beat the tough, physical
Celtics. It was the Memorial Day massacre the
next year, in 1985, that seemed to be the turning
point. Wow, game one of the 85 finals. The Celtics
absolutely destroyed the Lakers, 148 to 114.
It was a bloodbath. Kareem looked old and slow.
It looked like the curse was eternal. But Pat
Riley, who had taken over as coach in 81, made
a brilliant psychological move. What did he do?
He realized the team was mentally soft. He worked
them into the ground in practice for two days.
But more importantly, he stopped showing them
game film of their mistakes. Instead, he just
showed them film of the Celtics celebrating.
He convinced them that their legacy, their entire
destiny hinged on beating Boston in Boston. And
they did it. They won the series in six games.
Game six was at the Boston Garden. It was the
first time in history that a visiting team had
ever won a championship on that famous parquet
floor. Kareem, at age 38, was the MVP. It silenced
all the ghosts. Completely. They won again in
87, beating Boston. And then, in the locker room
celebration after that title, Pat Riley does
something absolutely insane. He guarantees a
repeat. He didn't ask the team first or anything.
No. He's in the middle of a press conference
pouring champagne, his hair is all slicked back,
and he just tells the media, I guarantee we'll
do it again next year. No one had repeated his
champs in almost 20 years. Talk about putting
pressure on your own team. But that 1988 team
was special. They had to survive two grueling
game sevens just to get out of the West. And
then they beat the bad boy Pistons in the finals
in another seven games. They were the first team
to repeat since the 60s Celtics. That was the
absolute peak of showtime. And then. As always,
the cycle turns. In November 1991, Magic announces
he has HIV. It was a global shock. He retires
immediately. The team goes into a slump. The
mid -90s were, well, they were weird. You had
Nick Van Axel, Eddie Jones. Fun teams, but not
championship contenders. It was showtime late.
You know, they were good. They made the playoffs,
but they weren't giants. And Jerry West, who
is now the general manager of the architect,
he knew it. He knew the Lakers don't hang banners
for making it to the second round of the playoffs.
So that brings us to the summer of 1996. I would
argue this is the single most impactful offseason
by any GM in the history of sports. It is really
hard to argue against it. In the span of just
a few weeks, Jerry West completely reshapes the
NBA for the next decade. First, he sets his sights
on Shaquille O 'Neal. Shaq was in Orlando. He
was this unstoppable source of nature. But he
was unhappy there. He felt underappreciated.
So Jerry West cleared cap space. He traded away
beloved players like Cedric Sabato's just to
have enough money to offer Shaq a max contract.
And he signed him. That alone would have been
a massive franchise -altering success. But he
wasn't done. No. He had been scouting this 17
-year -old kid from Lower Marion High School
in Philadelphia, Kobe Bryant. A guard coming
straight out of high school. That just didn't
happen back then. Kevin Garnett had done it as
a big man, but a guard was seen as a huge risk.
Everyone thought it was crazy. But West saw the
pre -draft workout. He saw Kobe destroying college
-level players. He just knew. So he works out
a trade with the Charlotte Hornets, who had the
13th pick in the draft. He sends Vlade Divac,
his starting center, a very good popular player,
to Charlotte for the rights to draft this teenager.
Imagine that. Trading your starting center for
a kid who needs a permission slip from his parents
to play. It was a massive gamble. Vlade actually
threatened to retire rather than go to Charlotte,
which have killed the deal. But Wes talked him
into it. He pulled it off. So now you have Shaq
and Kobe. But it wasn't instant magic like it
was with Magic Johnson. It took a while. They
struggled to gel. It was a clash of personalities.
They were two alphas. Shaq was a party guy who
relied on talent. Kobe was an introvert obsessed
with technique and practice. They got swept by
Utah in the playoffs. Kobe shot, what, four air
balls in the final minutes of an elimination
game? It was rough. It was. But then Phil Jackson
arrives in 1999, the Zen master. He had the six
rings with Jordan. He had the credibility. He
had the credibility to manage those two egos.
He got Shaq to get in the best shape of his life.
He implemented the triangle offense. And from
2000 to 2002, we saw arguably the most dominant
peak of any team ever, the three -peat. But it
wasn't easy. I always go back to the 2000 Western
Conference Finals against Portland. Game seven.
Oh, man. They were down 15 points in the fourth
quarter. The brand new Staples Center was groaning.
It looked like a historic choke job. And then
the defense just tightened up. They went on a
huge run. And then the lob. The Kobe to Shaq
lob. It's the most iconic alley -oop in history.
Kobe crosses over Scottie Pippen, drives into
the lane, and just throws it up high. Shaq catches
it with one hand and slams it down with such
force. He runs back down the court, pointing
at the sky, mouth wide open. That one moment.
Ended the choker narrative for that team. They
won the title. Then in 2001, they went 15 -1
in the playoffs. They just destroyed everyone.
Shaq won finals MVP three times in a row. But
we have to talk about 2002. The Kings series.
The Western Conference finals against Sacramento.
The Kings were probably the better team that
year. They played this beautiful, free -flowing,
passing basketball. And game four, Robert Horry's
buzzer beater saved the Lakers' season. The ball
gets tipped out right to him. He picks it up.
Bang. But game six? That is the controversial
one. The Lakers shot 27 free throws in the fourth
quarter alone. Kings fans will go to their graves
saying the league and the referees fixed it to
ensure a game seven. It definitely looks suspicious
watching it back. A lot of very soft calls. It
did. But the Lakers survived it. They won game
seven in overtime. They went on to sweep the
nets for the third ring. The ego, the internal
friction. It's the Greek tragedy of the Lakers,
isn't it? When you have two alphas as big as
Shaq and Kobe, the gravity eventually just tears
the planet apart. It does. Shaq came into the
next training camp out of shape. He famously
said, I got hurt on company time, so I'll heal
on company time. Kobe, who lived in the gym,
resented that. Kobe wanted to be the man. They
lost to the Detroit Pistons in the 2004 finals,
a super team that added Karl Malone and Gary
Payton, but completely failed. And that was it.
The marriage was over. Shaq was traded to Miami
for Lamar Odom and spare parts. Phil Jackson
left and wrote a book calling Kobe uncoachable.
It really felt like the end of an era. It was
the end of the dynasty, but it was the start
of Kobe's individual crusade, the Black Mamba
era. Kobe was absolutely determined to prove
he could win a championship without Shaq. But
the roster around him was just terrible. Smush
Parker, Kwame Brown. I mean, Kobe scored 81 points
in a game just to keep them competitive. He was
averaging 35 points a game and they were barely
making the playoffs as a seventh or eighth seed.
He was miserable. He demanded a trade in the
summer of 2007. I completely forgot he demanded
a trade. He was ready to go to the Chicago Bulls
or even the Clippers. He was done. He publicly
ripped the front office. But Dr. Buss didn't
panic. And funnily enough, Jerry West, even though
he was working for the Memphis Grizzlies at the
time, ended up facilitating a trade that saved
the Lakers. Pau Gasol. February 2008. The Lakers
acquire Pau Gasol from Memphis for, essentially,
Kwame Brown and some draft picks. It changed
the entire trajectory of the franchise overnight.
Pau was the perfect complement to Kobe. He was
high IQ, a skilled passer, unselfish. He didn't
need the spotlight. He just wanted to win. They
went to the finals immediately in 2008, but lost
to guess who? It had to be Boston. The Celtics
again. The new big three. Kevin Garnett, Paul
Pierce, Ray Allen. They beat the Lakers down.
They embarrassed them in the deciding game six
by 39 points. But that loss just fueled Kobe.
It set up the redemption tour. 2009, they roll
through the playoffs and beat the Orlando Magic.
Kobe gets his fourth ring, his first finals MVP.
The monkey is finally off his back. He won one,
but without Shaq. But 2010 is the one that mattered
most to him. A rematch with Boston in the finals.
Game seven at Staples Center. That was the ugliest,
most brutal basketball game I have ever seen.
It was a complete rock fight. Nobody could shoot.
The pressure was suffocating. Kobe himself was
six for 24 from the field. He couldn't buy a
bucket, but he grabbed 15 rebounds. He defended.
Ron Artest, now Metta World Peace, hit a massive
three. Sasha Vujacic hit clutch free throws.
They just grounded out and won. And the image
of Kobe standing on the scorer's table, arms
outstretched, confetti falling. He had five rings,
one more than Shaq, and tied with Magic Johnson.
For him, that felt like the mountaintop because
the descent after that was steep and fast. Kobe
tore his Achilles in 2013. That was really the
end of his prime. But he gave us one last incredible
moment. 2016, his final game. 60 points. He took
50 shots to get there, but nobody cared. It was
the most Kobe Bryant ending imaginable. He just
willed the ball into the hoop one last time and
walked off the court. Mamba out. And that ushered
in the wandering in the desert years. Yeah. The
young core. Brandon Ingram, Lonzo Ball, Kyle
Kuzma. The Lakers were trying to rebuild through
the draft, which, as we established earlier,
isn't really their DNA. They were bad. They missed
the playoffs for six straight years, which was
the longest drought in franchise history. It
was a really dark period. But the brand is strong.
The city is L .A. And in 2018, the best player
in the world decided he wanted to live in Los
Angeles. LeBron James. He signed as a free agent.
He didn't even meet with other teams. He just
came. But he knew, just like Jerry West knew
back in 96, that one star isn't enough to win
a title in LA. So the young core had to go. In
the summer of 2019, the Anthony Davis trade.
They sent Ingram, Ball, Josh Hart, and a bunch
of picks to New Orleans for AD. Critics said
they gave up too much. They said they mortgaged
their entire future for an injury prone star.
And then 2020 happened. Context is everything
here. January 2020, Kobe Bryant dies in that
tragic helicopter crash. The city was devastated.
The team, the organization was devastated. LeBron
and AD had to carry that incredible emotional
weight. Then COVID hits. The world shuts down.
The season resumes in the bubble in Orlando.
It was the strangest championship run ever, but
maybe the most. Mentally taxing. Absolutely.
Isolated from family for three months. No fans.
Just basketball. But LeBron and Davis were perfect.
They dominated. They beat the Miami Heat. LeBron
won his fourth finals MVP. And the Lakers tied
the Celtics with 17 championships. They did it
for Kobe. Job finished, as Kobe would say. Or
job finished. I guess not. Yeah. Because Boston
won in 2024 to go up 18 -17 in the all -time
race. Right. And that brings us full circle to
the motivation for the Luca trade that we started
with. After the bubble, the Lakers were kind
of stuck. They had the 2020 title. They won the
inaugural in -season tournament in 2023, which
was nice. But it's not a banner you brag about
too much. No. They needed to respond to Boston.
They needed to future -proof the franchise for
the post -LeBron era. And that's where we sit
today, February 18, 2026. Luca's wearing purple
and gold. LeBron is 41. Mark Walter is signing
the checks. And we have to talk about the culture
shift that comes with Mark Walter because it's
a huge deal. Yeah, let's dive into that because
the Buss family, there was always this drama,
this Game of Thrones stuff going on. Wow, the
2017 coup attempt. We skipped over that, but
it's crucial context. After Dr. Buss died in
2013, he left the team to his six children in
a trust. His son, Jim Buss, was running basketball
operations, and it was a complete disaster. Some
of the worst contracts in NBA history. Jeannie
Buss, his sister, had to literally go to court
and fire her own brother to take control of the
team. She and Scald Magic Johnson, who then quit
a year later in a bizarre press conference. Then
she hired Rob Palenka. It was high drama. Very
succession coded. Very, but it was personal.
It was family. And the Linker way was about treating
stars like family. They retire numbers only for
Hall of Famers. They have 14 numbers retired,
including both 8 and 24 for Kobe. They took care
of their own. Kobe got that massive contract
at the end of his career when he was injured
because he was family. Do you think that changes
with Mark Walter? He's a hedge fund guy. He's
the head of Guggenheim baseball management. It's
the most valid question to ask. The deal was
structured to keep Genie as the governor, likely
to maintain that link to the past, that Lakers
mystique. But Mark Walter is data driven. He's
about efficiency and massive revenue. I mean,
you look at the Dodgers under his ownership.
They have been the best run organization in baseball,
spending huge money, but also having the best
analytics and player development. So maybe that's
the hybrid future, the soul in the face of the
Buss family with the wallet and the brain of
the Walter group. That is the best case scenario
for Laker fans. The Luka Donicic era will be
the ultimate test case. If they win a title with
Luka, the transition is a roaring success. a
corporate soulless product? Well, the fans in
L .A. are fickle. They love winners, but they
also love their icons and their stories. It's
just amazing to think about the cycle we just
walked through. It's always the same beat. The
team struggles. They find a giant Mike and Wilt,
Kareem, Shaq, Powell, LeBron, now Luka. They
win. They create drama. They fall apart. And
they win again. It is the most reliable script
in all of sports. And what's fascinating to me
is that no matter how much the league changes,
salary caps, three -point revolutions, international
players, the Lakers formula remains almost archaic,
yet. Unbelievably effective. Star power wins.
So what does this all mean for you listening
right now? If you're a Lakers fan, you're probably
feeling pretty good about having Luka for the
next decade. If you're a hater. If you're a hater,
you're probably rolling your eyes that they got
bailed out again by a superstar demanding a trade
to L .A. You're saying, of course they got Luka.
They always do. True. But here's the provocative
thought I want to leave you with. With the Buss
family selling majority control, is the mom and
pop era of the NBA officially dead? The Lakers
were the last great holdout team run by a family
whose only business was basketball. Now they
are part of a massive investment portfolio. It's
a great point. Does the Lakers mystique survive
when it's just a line item on a billionaire spreadsheet?
Or was the mystique always just about the players
wearing the jersey and the championships they
won? I have a feeling as long as Luka is throwing
lobs to Bronny James, the fans won't care too
much about who signs the checks. But it does
feel like the end of the romantic era of the
NBA. It does. But hey. I'd say go watch some
highlights of the Showtime fast break. Watch
magic throw a no -look pass to James Worthy.
That spirit, I think that spirit is still in
the building somewhere. I hope so. Thanks for
diving in with us. We'll see you next time. Take
care.