That's the provocative (and well supported) theory posed by sports shorty Jemele Hill over on ESPN.com's Page 2. Here in Chi-town, folks have ended up in the Chicago river sporting cement swim trunks for even whispering such outrageous basketball blasphemy, let alone writing it down! In a city where members of the '85 Bears still receive the red carpet treatment, you have to know that there's already a drop squad heading to Jemele's crib to 'readjust' her thinking on this matter. Now frequent Malone Zone posse members know ol Ty ain't got the first bit of love for Kobe 'Cane Sporco' Bryant (hit the Babel Fish translator to break down that bit of butter soft Italian, y'all) but Jemele lays out a pretty convincing case that has me switchin' lanes...
Hate it or love it Kobe fans, despite his prodigious basketball talent (which seems to increase every season) and three championship rings, this is the enduring image that will haunt Cane Sporco even after he leaves the game. The 'I Love My Wife' press conference following the very public bustin' out of his undercover shenanigans up in Eagle, Colorado. I'll go on record as saying that had that never happened Kobe's basketball popularity, global impact and cheddar stack would be rivaling Tiger Woods' right now. His wallet would be swole, y'all. Jacked up? Check.
Now contrast that to Jockey underwear pitchman Michael 'Space Jam' Jordan. Hate it or love it Kobe fans but this is the enduring image we'll remember Mike by. Hitting the jumper after shedding Bryon Russell and leaving his right arm J'ed until well after the ball had hit the bottom of the net to win his sixth championship . MJ never hit 50 four games in a row and damn sure never sniffed the air around 81. If Mars Blackmon was callin' MJ 'Money', what the heck would he be callin' Kobe? Federal Reserve? Fort Knox? His game in insane, but it doesn't matter, yo.
Kobe's legend will continue to grow but it will never grow big enough to escape the indelible shadow cast by his completely unexpected and explicable fall from grace in that Eagle, Colorado hotel room. Jacked up? Check.