I’m writing this while drinking Jack Daniel’s straight and wearing a Sunday White Lakers’ jersey. It’s a sad scene.
I’m not gonna mince words: the Lakers are terrible. It’s a spectacular type of terrible, too. Only achievable by the mismanagement of prideful Jim Buss (shoulda hired Phil Jackson) and Mitch Kupchak (traded away our future for a geriatric Steve Nash). I could go on a tirade about how David Stern blocked the Chris Paul trade, or the Dwight Howard experiment, or how the Lakers put such a nasty taste in Pau Gasol’s mouth he fled to play with the brittle, disaster that is Derrick Rose — maybe the only player in the NBA that’s played less games than Kobe Bryant in the last two-years. More recently, I could talk about Byron Scott’s perplexing offense rotations and putrid defense, but I won’t. The team is just a mess, and this leads directly into my gaming shame. It involves NBA 2k.
Sometimes when I’m feeling particularly down on my favorite basketball team, I go into the roster editor in MyLEAGUE and give every single player on the team a ninety-nine overall rating. There, I said it. I pretend that my Lakers are the best basketball team ever assembled — better than the Bulls when they went 72-9. The only team that could stand a chance against my dishonorable creation is the Monstars from Space Jam. Maybe.
I pretend Roy Hibbert is a rebounding maniac that can grab fifteen a game, in which five of those are offensive. I pretend that D’Angelo Russell is leading the league in scoring, assists and steals. I pretend Kobe Bryant isn’t in his 20th season and can shoot better than 38 percent from the field. I get rid of the salary cap so I don’t have to worry about going over it, and I turn off injuries so I don’t have to worry about my players getting hurt. Possibly the worst of all my sins is the fact that I simulate all the games — I’m basically Adam Morrison when he rode the Lakers’ pine throughout 2009 and 2010: getting rings just for showing up. I don’t play any of them, and if by chance the NBA 2k logic decides that I’ve won too many championships in a row, I quit and reload my save just to try it again. I will not be denied my Larry O’Briens.
I win championships like the Lakers are supposed to — three-peats, four-peats, five-peats. Then, when I’m done digitally masturbating to this dynasty simulator, I feel incredibly dirty, empty and like a fraud. I delete the franchise and go wash my hands of NBA 2k.
Why is this shameful? Shouldn’t I be able to play the game how ever I want. I mean, basketball sims are just power fantasies, right? Wrong. If any of my friends found out what I was doing I would be barred from all conversations about professional basketball. I’d be a pariah. “You made all your team a ninety-nine? Wow. You probably play on rookie, too.”
In short, yes, the power fantasy is exactly what makes it fun; the control over every move a franchise like the Lakers makes, but the validation of winning a championship isn’t only satisfying if done the right way. MyLEAGUE in NBA 2k is where I’m supposed to prove how much smarter I am as fan with zero experience running a professional basketball team, that’s where the validation comes from — that’s the true power fantasy. It’s where I make Jim Buss look like the second generation incompetent business owner that ruins the family dynasty. But, creating a team of juggernauts to do that is just, well, shameful.
Really, I don’t blame myself, though. I can’t. It’s Jim Buss, Mitch Kupchak, and Kobe Bryant’s lift-less jumpshot’s fault. They’ve created this monster.
