Lamar Odom the difference-maker for the Lakers

I've got a confession to make: I'm writing a column about a player on a team that's playing in a series that I haven't even watched yet.

First, the sorry excuses. On Monday night, during the Los Angeles Lakers' 128-107 neat and tidy disposal of the Phoenix Suns, I was playing kickball (we won, by the way) and then getting my, um, butt handed to me in Fifa 2010 so badly that I kept playing until the Lakers game was over, hoping that maybe, just maybe, I could improve my corner kicks and not feel so embarrassed. (Side note: My man, Ben, was checking on the score to make sure it wasn't close.) Then on Wednesday night, my organization had one of our three huge fundraisers. So I was kind of busy with that all night.

Now that I've cleared that up, let me give you my thoughts on the series I haven't watched. And, honestly, so far it hasn't needed watching. The box scores say it all. And believe me on this -- I've watched enough Lakers basketball to know what takes them from a really good team to an unstoppable one.

Lamar Odom.

Simple as that. Check out what the bench player did in Games 1 and 2 (a 124-112 victory) against the Suns: 19 points, 19 rebounds; 17 points, 11 rebounds. Absolutely spectacular numbers for a bench player. The entire Suns bench put together 26 points and nine boards in Game 2. Wow.

That's too much of a burden for the Suns to overcome when you factor in the Lakers having, you know, the most clutch player in basketball -- a guy named Kobe -- and perhaps the most underrated, consistent big man in the game, scoring machine Pau Gasol.

Too much.

Of course, this series isn't over. I've stuck by this tenet for many years (and now, even, the big-time pundits use it): A series can't be declared over until a team wins on the other team's homecourt ... until a Game 7, of course. So don't pencil this series in.

But if Odom plays like he did the first two games, forget about it. After the Game 2 victory, Bryant was asked what makes the Lakers so tough. Versatility, he said. And, yep, he's right. When Odom, at 6-foot-10, is playing aggressive and smart (read: not settling for 3-pointers; he's a horrible outside shooter), using his strength and length to get to the basket and score or set up others, additionally putting himself in position for offensive rebounds, the Lakers are unbeatable outside of a Kobe injury, a Gasol injury or some freaky thing like Leandro Barbosa dropping 50.

So far this series, the Suns have no answer for Odom. He has dominated with his long arms, springy feet and basketball wits. He has made Amare Stoudemire, who has a combined nine rebounds between the two games, resemble Bill Wennington (sorry, Amare). And he's only taken two 3-pointers, not giving the Suns any dumb decisions to fuel their fast-paced offensive mobile.

Stat of the series: The Lakers are +32 when Odom is on the floor. That's not quite as good as Bryant's +36 and not close to Gasol's ridiculous +41, but I think it says a little something about the big fella's impact. He's all over the place, making plays and frustrating a Suns team that can't afford to give up any extra shots (they're porous enough, already, on the defensive end). Odom has 10 offensive rebounds in the two games.

You want past numerical proof of Odom's impact? Look at last year's Finals, a 4-1 series victory for the Lakers over Orlando. And forget about Game 4, which the Magic completely blew at the end (oh, by the way, Odom had a poor game):

Game 1: Lakers win handily -- Odom 11 points, 14 boards
Game 2: Lakers in in OT -- Odom 19 points, 8 boards
Game 3: Magic win tight one -- Odom 11 points, 2 boards
Game 5: Lakers roll -- Odom 17 points, 10 boards

The man is, as the experts would say, the Lakers' X-factor. No, not all by himself. It's hard to figure how last year's champions would have fared sans tough-as-bricks, money-in-crunch-time Derek Fisher. All he does is hit big shots (he saved the Lakers in that Game 4 Orlando debacle). And Ron Artest has made a difference as well, knocking down three huge 3-pointers in Game 2 when the Suns' defense sagged.

But here's the bottom line: The Lakers' most valuable players list goes like this -- 1. Um, Kobe; 2. Gasol; 3. Odom. Yes, that's right. A bench player ranks ahead of three starters. It's a fact.

The dangerous thing about Odom is that there are times when he appears uncaring on the court, chucking up 3s and not banging bodies down low for boards. That was apparent in at least two of the Lakers' losses to the Celtics in the 2008 Finals when he was a starter -- Odom had a decent night in Boston's Game 6 clincher, but that far from mattered the way the Lakers, um Kobe, tanked.

But these last two postseasons, he's mostly been the Good Odom. And we're seeing the results.

So if you're like me, and actually can't watch all the playoff games (no worries: I should be good for the rest of the postseason), try this before simply looking up the score on your Blackberry/iPhone/Droid/etc.: Google Lamar Odom, pull up his stat line and then make an educated guess as to who won.

Sure, Barbosa might have dropped that 50. But more than likely, a good night by Odom means a Lakers win.

There aren't many surer things in this shaky world we live in.

Letting a name and tradition fool you

ON BASEBALL

It's an easy trap to fall into, so I won't laugh at a friend for the text messages he sent me after Boston's wins over Tampa Bay in Game 5 of the ALCS Thursday night and Game 6 Saturday night.

After Boston's improbable 8-7 comeback for the ages Thursday: "Well that sucks that might break the Rays."

During Boston's hotly contested 4-2 win Saturday, when I texted him that I smelled a Game 7: "It will happen and tampa will probably lose which sucks."

My friend wasn't the only one. Without doing a lick of research, I can guarantee you that even with Boston down 3-2 and needing two wins in St. Petersburg, a good portion of this country smelled two Boston wins. I'll bet my house — OK, I don't own a house; but you get the point — that prior to Game 7 Sunday, the majority of America thought Boston had another World Series berth in the bag.

The reasons for these thoughts? It's very simple, actually: name recognition and tradition. In other words, Boston had won two World Series in four seasons; Tampa hadn't sniffed the postseason ... ever. Fenway Park is one of the most recognized sports venues in the country and hundreds of books have been written about the Red Sox; the Rays haven't even been the "Rays" for a year and have only been a franchise for 11 seasons.

To make a bad analogy, you walk into a store to buy a six-pack. On one rack is Samuel Adams (no Boston connection intended). You know what you'd be getting. You've sipped hundreds of SAs over the years. On the other rack is an ale you've only seen at a party yet. You took one from a friend, but you aren't convinced you want to buy it yourself.

You take the Sam Adams simply because of its name and your history of drinking it.

It's a poor call. Just like giving up on the Rays to win the ALCS after their Game 6 loss.

The series went seven games, but the Rays dominated the first six games. There was no arguing that they weren't the better team. Just examine Games 3 through 6, because the first two games — Boston 2-0, Tampa 9-8 in 11 innings — cancel each other out as very tight ballgames.

Tampa dominated Games 3 and 4, both at Fenway, by scores of 9-1 and 13-4. Their hitters owned Boston pitching, sending seven balls out of the park and slamming 27 hits. The big bats in Boston's lineup, primarily David Ortiz and Dustin Pedroia, were as silent as Red Sox Nation during the blowouts.

We all know what happened in Game 5. The Rays dominated the game for six innings before two big Bostons swings, by Ortiz and , got the Red Sox back into the game after being down 7-0. A couple clutch hits later, Boston had an 8-7 victory.

Game 6 was a close contest throughout, with the most unlikely of home runs by Boston catcher Jason Veritek — his first and only hit of the series — and a Tampa Bay error allowing Boston to turn a 2-2 game into a 4-2 victory. It was a solid victory, closed out by Boston's bullpen, but in no way was it backbreaking. In no way was it a "Don't even bother showing up at the ballpark tomorrow" kind of win.

So the Rays showed up Sunday, loose and confident like they should have been. Of course they couldn't forget what had transpired the previous three days, but hey, they were still a game away from the Fall Classic. That's the attitude the precocious team took, and it worked wonders.

There was never a sense of panic, a whiff of desperation. When asked after Tampa's 3-1 Game 7 victory to "honestly" say whether there was doubt in the clubhouse, winning pitcher Matt Garza said there wasn't. I believe him.

You see, it's one thing when you get lucky in a game or two and squeak out a couple other games to get to a Game 7. In that scenario, it's hard for a team to be completely sure of itself. Living on the edge will do that to you. But entering Game 7, the Rays — have I said this already? — were the better team; they were the superior team during 162 regular-season games, and they were for the first six games of the series.

Still, the money was on Boston because it's, well, "Boston." I can't say I blame people. I'm no betting man, but with my minimal income, it would have been tough to bet on the Rays Sunday.

It happens in all sports all the time. The newcomer to the grand stage is written off — again, and again and again. Never mind that they've proven themselves countless times. Until they win that first championship, people doubt they have the chutzpah to pull it off.

Just look at the Pistons' easy series win over the Lakers in the 2004 NBA Finals. People kept doubting the unfamiliar group of Detroit players, even as they dominated the familiar Lakers. Picking Kobe and Shaq, and their three previous championships, was easier (and, of course, just plain dumb, especially after wins by Detroit in Games 1, 3 and 4).

It occurs in college sports as well. I was inside Michigan Stadium last year when Appalachian State knocked off the mighty Wolverines. Even as the Wildcats led Michigan for most of the game, there was a sense among the Big House faithful that it couldn't possibly happen. That a tiny school from Boone, N.C., couldn't knock off fabled Michigan.

We all know what transpired.

And now the Rays are in the World Series, and anyone who continues to doubt them — regardless of how they fare in the World Series — is a complete nut job.

In fact, barring major offseason developments, anyone who doesn't predict the Rays to repeat as American League East champs next season will be disillusioned as well. With a super young team full of improving starting pitchers and everyday guys who play great defense, run the bases well and have power ... well, this team is here to stay for the long haul.

Oh, and did I mention that the man on the mound for Boston's final four outs Sunday was a kid, 23, who had pitched in a whopping five regular-season games?

Yep, that's right. David Price isn't going anywhere. And neither are most of his teammates.

You can doubt them if you want. Go ahead and pick the older Yankees or Red Sox to win the division next year.

Just know that you'll likely be basing your prediction more on the past than what's actually the case today.

And you probably won't be the only one.

Lakers overcome distraction, become contender

ON BASKETBALL

It was a Christmas Day Miracle, really.

There were the mighty, high-flying, running-and-gunning Phoenix Suns, the lock this season to win the Western Conference's Pacific Division and roll into the playoffs as one of the top few seeds.

But they weren't the miracle. The miracle workers were the guys in yellow jerseys.

There was Kobe Bryant, the subject of trade speculation for the past eight months. In May, he said he wanted to be traded — for sure — then recanted ... then said he wanted out again.

Leading up to the season, all the talk in Laker Land revolved around No. 24 leaving. Chicago? New York? He was bound for the East Coast.

The discussion continued into the regular season, but somehow the Lakers played through it. While the Chicago Bulls couldn't overcome the Kobe Talk to play half-decent basketball, the Lakers managed to play .500 ball.

And Bryant showed why he's the NBA's best talent, hearing all the whispers in one ear and coach Phil Jackson in the other. On opening night, there he was — almost leading the Lakers back from a 12-point hole in the final minute, 36 seconds.

Say what you want about Bryant's arrogance, his selfishness at times, but you can't say he ever gives up in a game. He didn't on that night, and he hasn't since then.

And while a month and a half ago, I thought the Lakers with Kobe needed another marquee player — such as Indiana's Jermaine O'Neal — to make a serious run in the mighty West, I don't think so anymore. This team, with its current makeup, is capable of challenging the Suns, the Mavericks, the Jazz ... and maybe even the Spurs (OK, probably not the Spurs, but neither can the aforementioned squads).

The main reason: the play of Andrew Bynum, the 20-year-old kid who has grown thick skin and ignored all the clamors by L.A. fans — and the media — that he needs to be traded for a big-name, proven veteran.

On Christmas, the 7-footer was at his best, skying for a slew of easy alley-oops, causing the Suns to play a bigger, slower lineup than usual — and then out-muscling those guys, including Amare Stoudemire, for 12 rebounds. He finished with a career-high 28 points, the dozen boards, four assists and two blocked shots.

And after the Lakers' 122-115 win, don't look now, but ... but ... but a certain team in gold uniforms sits just a game back of the mighty Suns.

And maybe — just maybe — the trade talk has died down for now.

With Bynum averaging 12.5 points, 10.1 boards and 2.1 blocks a game. With Derek Fisher and Jordan Farmar anchoring the point guard position, a veteran leading a youngster who will eventually steal all his minutes. With Lamar Odom and Bynum holding strong in the post. With high-flyer Trevor Ariza and Luke Walton — when he returns from injury — providing a variety of skills at the small-forward position. ... these Lakers, at 18-10 and on a three-game winning streak, look like contenders.

Wait — I forgot to mention one player: um, Kobe Bryant?

That's right. When one can talk about the Lakers without mentioning the longest-tenured player in the NBA, you know there's a little talent around him.

In the fourth quarter Tuesday, it was Kobe Time. Bryant knocked down an array of fall-away jumpers from all over the court to score 12 of his game-high 38. He was the center of the show. The player whom kids are trying to emulate on playgrounds all over L.A. today.

But he's no longer the only show in town, folks. Bynum, Odom, Ariza, Fisher...

Learn the names, kids. Because if this keeps up, they'll be making just as much noise as their celebrated teammate well into the spring.