It’s been almost two weeks, but it’s still a little hard to write about Derek Fisher’s departure from LA Lakers.
As we all know, on March 15, responding to pressure and pleas for a
trade that could offer a jolt in the diminishing power voltage to one of
the greatest franchises in sports, Jim Buss and the rest of the Lakers
management answered with a thundering surprise that left many of us,
fans and haters alike, in shock to this very day.
They traded Derek Fisher.
To the many of us in Lakernation, this was the day that came to be known as the day the Los Angeles Lakers lost its soul.
The trade felt so horribly wrong and cheap. I personally felt offended.
For a typical, occasional sports fan, it is difficult to wrap your
head around why a lot of us felt wronged about that obvious salary dump
of a trade. It is ridiculous to grieve and hurt with a man most of us
haven’t met or spoken to and be intensely involved in a life-altering
moment that has completely nothing to do with our own. But whenever a
class-act player gets a treatment like this, it always hits the heart.
I don’t care if Derek Fisher is 37 years old, aging, and his sprints dwindled down to jogs across the court. He is still Derek
Fisher, capable of running last minute clutch plays and, as far as I
know, the single player that holds the Lakers ‘culture’ together.
He was the constant glue between the Lakers’ new blood and the
Championship Lakers of the past. When there were uncertainties
surrounding the team, Fisher called, presided, and ended meetings to
patch things up. Even when the 2011-2012 NBA season came to a threat,
Fisher was the one who stood tall for all the players; negotiating with
them big bad bullies.
In 2010, Fisher was instrumental in the NBA Finals Game 7 thriller against long-time rival Boston Celtics.
But what really cemented him in the many hearts of the Purple &
Gold fans everywhere was the buzzer-beater game winning shot he took off
an inbound pass with 0.4 seconds left in Game 5 of the Western
Conference semifinals against then defending champions San Antonio
Spurs.
I remember watching that game with my brothers back in 2004. Although
that same year brought a collapse for the team (Finals upset vs
Detroit, Shaq traded to Miami, Phil Jackson retired, and Fish
transferred to Golden State for a higher salary), that 0.4 in ’04 was
one of the few victorious moments fans relived again and again until the
team got back on its feet to win a three-peat.
You don’t trade local legends just like that. Same way die-hard fans feel guilty for cheering on another team.
For everything it’s worth, Derek Fisher deserved to retire as a
Laker. He would’ve welcomed the diminishing minutes, even if it meant
sliding further at the end of the bench. He would accept it, like how
many great players in their twilight careers will–knowing that there
will always be someone younger than you, faster than you, shoots better
than you. Fisher understood that. He said repetitively in interviews
that he would accept the demotion, because he wanted to retire in the
same team he started with as a rookie back in 1996.
It would’ve been the more gentlemanly gesture for someone who has
brought the team 5 championship rings out of its 16 NBA titles, in his
being a Laker for 13 seasons spanning 12 years.
But there’s very little room for gratitude in a cutthroat business
like the NBA. Sadly, the management saw Fisher more of tradable
liability than an asset.
But the fans will always remember Derek Fisher as a Laker… forever.