They swarmed, swiped, pushed, suffocated.

He rocked, fired, drained, stared.

Yeah, there wasn't much the Los Angeles Lakers and Kobe Bryant didn't do in Houston Friday night, en route to a 108-94 whooping they put on the Rockets to take a 2-1 series lead.

This game wasn't anything like the first two, which means the Rockets really didn't have much of a chance even though the score was close late into the fourth quarter. After exchanging hip checks and vicious elbows in Los Angeles, we knew the series would take on a life of its own with physicality providing the bow tie to this May extravaganza.

The Rockets were in good shape heading home with something to prove and some retaliation in order after Derek Fisher's crack-back hit that flipped Luis Scola like a blueberry pancake left the Lakers starting point guard at the team hotel serving a one game suspension.

But arrogance and bravado can only take you so far in the playoffs, and Game 3 drew the line between the Lakers and the Rockets. Haymakers and arm bars aside, the Lakers simply have more talent than the Rockets, and that's a problem that Houston coach Rick Adelman cannot overcome.

Houston played defense as well as they could in the first half, keeping the Lakers off the free throw line and forcing them to settle for contested jump shots. The only problem was that the Lakers came out of the gate stroking, particularly Bryant.

"Booooooo!!!"

That was the only audible syllable in the Toyota Center every time Bryant touched the basketball, but that didn't stop Kobe from attempting to scorch every last mile of Houston by the time the lights were turned out.

Bryant attacked with anger, dribbled with aplomb, and let his swagger stifle the Houston faithful. Certain guys rise for the big moments, and others live for the big moments. Big difference. Bryant stalks the spotlight, pausing for effect after swishing a three-pointer from Austin to end the third quarter. There's times he still likes to remind you of the irrepressible fear he is capable of inducing.

Bryant's 33 points - coincidentally on the night when he passed Larry Bird for all-time post season points - led the Lakers and set the tone for the evening. It was time for the real Los Angeles Lakers to take the floor.

With Fisher ordering room service, Farmar trying to find a rhythm, and Vujacic becoming best buddies with the back of the rim, it was easy to see why the Rockets were still around heading into halftime. No supporting player on the Lakers could knock down a three-pointer or a wide-open jump shot.

When that happens, the Lakers are susceptible to hot streaks and unanswered scoring runs by the Rockets, a team that is made to run with Kyle Landry and Aaron Brooks stepping on the accelerator, Ron Artest down for any style of ball, and Shane Battier quietly become one of basketball's best sixth men.

But those deep bombs started falling in the second half and you could see the fight leaving the Rockets. The Rockets suddenly became a chain smoker on the second mile of a marathon thinking, "What did we get into here?" They just couldn't keep up, and it was a helpless sight.

Kobe started driving and drawing such attention in the paint that he could have created open looks for you and me. Trevor Ariza started splashing some shots, including 3-of-4 from behind the line.

Lamar Odom speed dialed his primal cousin, flexing and roaring on his way to the rim, chest bumping anyone after scoring a handful of his 16 points. Odom isn't  big enough to play center, but somehow he is big enough - and more importantly, mean enough - to be the Lakers enforcer. He's a rare game-changer that can bang and drain. His 13 boards were only one less than Yao Ming's.

Pau Gasol struggled with a 4-for-11 night, but he hit five free throws and altered enough shots on defense to make a difference. I'll be impressed when he quits trying to juke a smaller defender out of his jersey, and tries to tear the rim down. Gasol is a dynamic offensive threat who can do things that most men his size can't, but his refusal to own the paint limits his overall presence.

By the time the final buzzer had sounded, all Lakers starters had scored in double figures, and a line was drawn between the two teams. A line that goes two ways: one end to the Finals, the other to Barbados. We don't need to see travel itineraries, we already know who is heading where.

It's not like the Rockets played poorly or can't compete, because they have already given Los Angeles more irregular heartbeats than they figured they would have until their date with LeBron.

Houston is tough, athletic, and unafraid to answer a challenge. They pressure the Lakers on defense and out rebounded them 56-43, but are now faced with cold reality. Top to bottom, they don't have the sheer talent to last in this series.

Oh, there's plenty to enjoy, just not enough. Yao Ming is one the game's elite centers, and his 19 points and 14 rebounds were probably all Houston could ask from him on this night, a night where he could barely hobble off the court by the end of the fourth quarter.

Say what you want about Ron Artest, but I'm a fan of Artest the competitor. Yeah, he's emotional at times, violent at times, a knucklehead many times, but there's something you have to respect about a guy who believes he is the one to knock off the stars. Part of the reason Artest is known for his aggressive reputation is because he's been on teams where nobody else wanted to be the guy in the spotlight, nobody else wanted to be the one to put a straight jacket on a lethal scorer like Kobe.

That takes balls, and forget the "this is what playoff basketball is all about" theme that is tacked onto post-season scuffles, the playoffs are about balls. Cojones. Big ones.

I'm not sure how much longer this series will go - I wouldn't be surprised if the Lakers end it in the next two - but I want my veins to boil with every last ounce of this Kobe-Artest intravenous drip. Artest was wrongly ejected for a Flagrant 2 foul on Gasol in the fourth quarter, and there is no way the NBA should even think about suspending him. That foul was a product of the crew's tight whistles, not an accurate evaluation of what actually happened.

The aforementioned Scola, Lowry, Landry, and Battier are nice complements, but they aren't players that can resuscitate a team when Artest can't hit from outside or Ming is facing a double team. At least not yet, and that's why their playoff run is coming to a close.

The Lakers are simply more talented and that's where this story ends. The Rockets have two very good players in Artest and Ming, but the Lakers have a spectacular cast of three that happens to include arguably one of the game's top-15 greatest players ever, the same guy who dreams of shutting you up and making your heart wilt. Houston can't beat that.

The Rockets still have a chance, but it ain't looking good. The Lakers will have Fisher back for Game 4, and you know Bryant won't let anybody relax. Nobody smells blood better than Kobe.

Houston can try to get mean, they can try to get vicious, but that energy runs out sooner or later, and your true talent level is exposed. This compelling series finally revealed its true plot.

You can reach Teddy Mitrosilis at tm4000@yahoo.com.

You could put Chris Rock, Jerry Seinfeld, and Kat Williams all on the same stage, and they combined wouldn't be able to crack as many one-liners as Major League Baseball is today. Baseball has fans on pins and needles , and that's become the appropriate theme of the last decade.

With the latest positive drug test, Manny Ramirez the one falling on his lumber this time, you could say that this era of baseball players has made a mockery of the sport, but I would disagree because 'mockery' seems like too serious of a word. Something has to really matter for it to be a mockery, and Major League Baseball just doesn't fit that criterion anymore.

The game has been made a joke by its own servants, the players who we pay big dollars to watch perform on a nightly basis and do things on a baseball field that are unimaginable to the mind of the average human being.

I wasn't even angry or upset after hearing the news on Ramirez, I just laughed and shook my head. "What a joke." Baseball happens to be its own punch line while the rest of us sit back and marvel at how such a great game and such a great brand could continually force away loyal fans by the minute.

The Los Angeles Times first reported Thursday morning that Ramirez has tested positive for performance-enhancing drugs and has been suspended 50 games by Major League Baseball. The commissioner's office did not specify what exactly Ramirez tested positive for, but Ramirez issued a statement saying that the positive test stemmed from a medication that was prescribed by a doctor.

"Recently I saw a physician for a personal health issue. He gave me a medication, not a steroid, which he thought was OK to give me. Unfortunately, the medication was banned under our drug policy. Under the policy that mistake is now my responsibility. I have been advised not to say anything more for now," said Ramirez.

But, wait, it gets much better.

Yahoo! Sports reported that the substance Ramirez tested positive for is a "sexual enhancer... is supposed to boost sex drive." What, Viagra didn't do the job?

The drug Ramirez reportedly tested positive for is referred to as HCG - obtained from a Miami-based physician -- and is most commonly used by women with fertility issues. HCG is also used to trigger testosterone production, proving to be convenient for men whose testosterone levels have been dramatically decreased due to past steroid use.

Yahoo! Sports quoted an anonymous source, one who claimed to be close to Ramirez, and the source indicated that HCG is not a steroid or human growth hormone (HGH). There is no test currently available for HGH.

What is interesting is that the report stated that Ramirez tested positive for the substance during spring training, and it wasn't until a recent second test turned up positive that any action is taken. Did nobody notify Manny Ramirez in spring training that he tested positive? Did Major League Baseball keep this information to itself? Did the Dodgers not pay enough attention? Is Manny Ramirez just that ignorant, like a lot of famous athletes are? We need answers.

But when are professional athletes going to figure it out? Figure out the fact that they are being paid millions of dollars to be on the field and perform, and they cannot trust anybody other than team doctors and MLB officials to authorize the intake of any substance? It's not as if the players haven't been warned.

In this age of steroids and sports, professional athletes should make sure their bottle of Advil is okay to take before popping a couple of those after taking a fastball to the ribs. Why even risk testing positive for anything and facing a subsequent suspension? Any substance, prescribed or not, should be checked directly through MLB, and then if you come up positive on a test, then it is MLB who will have to face the bullets.

If Manny really didn't knowingly take anything that would be deemed foul by baseball's drug policy, why isn't he appealing his suspension? He had that right, but waived it after consulting the Players' Association.

But, apparently, Manny is going to take his 50-game vacation with a smile, which begins tonight with the Dodgers hosting the Washington Nationals, and return to the lineup on July 3 against the San Diego Padres.

"I do want to say one other thing; I've taken and passed about 15 drug tests over the past five seasons. I want to apologize to [Dodgers owner Frank] McCourt, Mrs. McCourt, [manager Joe] Torre, my teammates, the Dodger organization, and to the Dodger fans. LA is a special place to me and I know everybody is disappointed. So am I. I'm sorry about this whole situation," Ramirez said Thursday.

Hey, Manny? Nobody cares. At this point it doesn't matter how many drug tests have been passed, how many clean seasons have been played, or how many pharmaceutical prescriptions have gone aloof. If a player is suspended for testing positive for a substance that he did not have examined directly by MLB before taking, it's his own fault and he has nobody to blame. It's unfortunate, but Manny Ramirez is just another guy who will always been stamped as a cheater.

But "sorry's" and sob stories aren't good enough anymore, because there is so much information made available to the players about the sport's drug policy and they have plenty of resources - including a Hot Line that was created in the wake of the Mitchell Report -- to help them sidestep any performance-enhancing minefields. In the end, it's the fans that suffer, not the suspended player.

I wonder how this is going to go over in 'Mannywood', Section 53 at Dodger Stadium that the Dodgers dubbed after their rock star? A marketing ploy that consists of two 'Mannywood' t-shirts and two tickets for the convenient price of $99 just sunk to the bottom of the Pacific because Section 53 cannot provide a home for the waves of Manny worshipers that have swept over Chavez Ravine since the slugger landed in L.A. at the trading deadline last season.

Well, at least not until July 3, but I can't imagine it will have the same feel. Then again, the Dodgers have carved out a niche of fans that rock their eyes to Manny like a salivating dog does to a pork chop, creating the perfect pendulum that was designed to build momentum, not destroy hype.

The baseball fan in me is still sad about what this means for yet another one of the game's greatest players. Manny has had a remarkable career, and may be defined as the best right-handed hitter ever.

Ramirez is currently 17th all time in home runs and 19th all time in RBIs, but forget about those numbers because he just got tossed in the soiled laundry basket that he now shares with Barry Bonds, Roger Clemens, Alex Rodriguez, Rafael Palmeiro , and others.

Manny, for his numerous clubhouse faults, has always been a guy that embodied the free spirit and zeal of competition, a guy who was so fascinating to watch because he actually looked like he loved being on the field, as simple as that sounds. The dream of playing Major League Baseball is too often painted to be a chore by players who want to collect checks and dissipate.

But the pedigree is meaningless now, as it is doubtful Manny Ramirez will ever be inducted into the Hall of Fame; the same can be said for the aforementioned names. Throw in Mark McGwire and Sammy Sosa, and that is quite a handful of players who left an indelible mark on the history of baseball, and yet their careers won't be documented in the ultimate light, the annals of Cooperstown.

Past generations were raised on the lore of baseball and the thrill of sport, but this generation, and probably the next one too, has been raised on suspicion, dishonesty, and false beliefs. We should still enjoy going to games and following our favorite teams and players, but we also should take what we see as a byproduct of a generation that lied to its fans. Not like that hasn't happened before.

Leave it to the idiosyncratic Manny Ramirez to be the first player to test positive for a drug that enhances performance on AND off the field.

Leave it to Major League Baseball to become the quintessential laughingstock.

And leave it to the fans to exercise their perfectly appropriate right to pull their caps down and snicker.

Teddy Mitrosilis is a staff writer for Around The Majors. You can reach him at tm4000@yahoo.com.

It's no surprise that the Chicago Cubs and St. Louis Cardinals clash across Midwest like thick, swirling twisters dancing on the same collision course, because real life happens across the Midwest, not the glitz and glamour fairytales hailed from the coasts.

Cubs and Cardinals fans aren't into the tabloid pages of the East or the popping flash bulbs of the West, because they have better things to do, like drink up the history of one of the most underrated sports rivalries in America.

This generation has no apparent winner in the quest for attention stretching across I-55, as the St. Louis Cardinals have a World Series title in this decade, but cannot say they have necessarily competed with the Cubs across the National League Central landscape in recent years.

The N.L. Central has been a Cubs division as of late, and the Wrigley Faithful are going to continue to have chances to root their Cubbies through October.

But the division is changing and baseball may be creeping back to the days of great Cubs-Cardinals summer theater, and that may be the greatest gift of the season. What's compelling is the fact that the rivalry hasn't been tipped one way or the other, and there are no 'bragging rights' hanging in either ballpark. Both teams have to prove it.

Forget the whole Cubs-Haven't-Won-In-More-Than-A-Century thing as the only motivation for Cubdom, because there is more angst in their beer than that. Since the two clubs first met in 1885, the Cardinals are the ones flying high.

St. Louis has ten championships to Chicago's two, and seventeen National League Pennants to the Cubs' ten. No wonder the animosity is as sweltering as a day game at Busch in August.

Of course, the players make this rivalry what it is, and luckily there has always been a handful of polarizing figures in the middle of it. Rogers Hornsby did the unthinkable, and crossed both Chicago and St. Louis lines, setting single-season records for hits and runs for both franchises. But that jersey swapping isn't a trend, as Bob Gibson, Stan Musial, Ernie Banks, and Ryne Sandberg would never dare do such a thing.

The Cardinals look to be a different ball club this season and lead the Cubs, and everybody else, in the N.L. Central as May gets underway. There is something to be said for the Albert Pujols-led brigade at the plate and the reputation Cardinals pitching coach Dave Duncan has earned for sprinkling his mastery over broken pitching careers, but whatever it is, St. Louis has looked like one of the N.L.'s best teams through the first month.

The Cardinals are second in the National League in runs (141) and slugging (.443), and rank third in OPS (.798). Pujols is cementing his legacy as the best hitter of this generation, and he is arguably the best all-around player in baseball. His nine home runs and .460 OBP is a testament to his uncanny ability to pulverize any pitch thrown while staying disciplined enough to take what a pitcher gives him.

He rides the wave of his competition, he doesn't try to fight it like some players and hit every ball out of the ballpark. Pujols is arguably the game's greatest power hitter, and he has eleven more walks than strikeouts. Amazing.

Pujols has a supporting cast that can slug with most, but it is not without questions. Ryan Ludwick had a stellar 2008 and opened '09 with the same ferocity, but can he keep his power and batting average on similar levels for a second full season, and prove that he truly does deserve more recognition?

Rick Ankiel covers a lot of ground in center, but hasn't been anywhere near the type of hitter he showed in spurts last season. His power and plate discipline seem stuck in extended spring training, but I don't know what to make of Ankiel because he hasn't had as much development time as a hitter compared to the guys who actually began their careers at the plate. But after Monday's scary collision with the outfield wall, those concerns can wait.

Yadier Molina, Chris Duncan, Joe Thurston, all of them have questions. Thurston is taking advantage of the absence of Troy Glaus, but he has no track record to draw from. If Colby Rasmus can progress as the season grows, the sting of an underachieving Ankiel could be minimized.

I am a believer in the St. Louis pitching staff, although some skepticism is fair. Adam Wainwright is a big-time talent, and the true ace of the staff when healthy. He appears to be so thus far.

Kyle Lohse's 3.22 ERA and Joel Piniero's 3.24 ERA have been welcomed surprises, but while pitching against N.L. competition under the tutelage of Duncan, are those really that shocking?

Ryan Franklin appears to have solidified the closer's role, for now, after Jason Motte was given the slack of, oh, one blown save, before being replaced. The wildcard for the Cardinals is Chris Carpenter, and whether or not he can return fully healthy from a torn oblique.

There have been some rumors of a late May return for Carpenter, but considering Carpenter's super fragile history, I wouldn't be surprised if St. Louis just gets him right for the second half, where he could be a huge help.

Combine this with the fact that the Cubs have been a relative mess compared to their talent level, and there is an opening for the Cardinals at the top of the N.L. Central. This division is no longer owned by the Cubs, and any other team wishing to play postseason baseball better lock on to the wild card.

The Cubs' myriad issues could stifle their title aspirations at some point, but the struggles could just be early season woes, and not much more. But where are the Cubs going to go if Geovany Soto (.167 BA) and Derek Lee (.639 OPS) don't hit, and Milton Bradley, who has been hampered by a groin injury, can't stay on the field?

Not October. Alfonso Soriano and Aramis Ramirez can't do it all, regardless of the unforeseen help they are getting from Kosuke Fukudome.

Where are the Cubs going to go if Carlos Zambrano, who just landed on the DL with a hamstring strain, Ryan Dempster, and Rich Harden don't pitch up to their All-Star capabilities, and manager Lou Pinella keeps readjusting the bullpen like a bugging boxer-briefs bunch up?

Not the World Series. The Cubs currently have all the stability of a leaning Jenga tower.

One impending transaction I like regarding the Cubs is their ownership change, which continues to drag on. Tom Ricketts and the Ricketts family won exclusive negotiating rights in a deal with Tribune Co. for an estimated $900 million. Negotiations are ongoing and the owners still will need to approve the sale, but it looks like this will be a good thing for the Cubs.

As of this January, the Ricketts family held 22% of TD Ameritrade Holding Corp.'s stock at an estimated value of $1. 5 billion, in case you were wondering how anybody could fork over that kind of dough to buy a baseball team, enough money to purchase 2,200 2009 Maybach 62s.

Stepping out from the corporate stepchild mold of Tribune Co. will be good for the Cubs because there are extreme emotional ties between the Cubs and the Ricketts family.

Tom Ricketts is a Chicago guy, grew up loving the Cubs, and will seemingly do whatever it takes to make the Cubs a winner. I can only imagine the thrill it would be to see his hometown team win a World Series. Maybe he starts by bringing Jake Peavy to the North Side?

Regardless of what happens with the sale of the Cubs, there won't be any swank bravado until the Cubs take back the division that is theirs only on paper, the rivalry that the Cardinals have historically feasted on, and slip one of those shiny things on their fingers.

Until that happens, though, St. Louis is going to believe it can take the N.L. Central division and tack another pennant, and possibly a championship, onto its growing pedigree. Don't tell them they take a backseat to anybody, because in their eyes, they've always been the class of the Midwest.

The type of confrontation that is going to make one of these two clubs melt with the division title at their fingertips. Finally.

Teddy Mitrosilis is a staff writer for Around The Majors. You can reach him at tm4000@yahoo.com.

The pink pillows, scented candles, and meditating yoga routines don't get as much play today in San Francisco as they did four years ago in Oakland, but that's because Barry Zito isn't the same guy.

Zito still has the unwavering sense of calm about him when he strolls through the Giants clubhouse or shags fly balls in the spacious outfield at AT&T Park on the days he doesn't pitch, but life is different on the other side of the Bay.

And how could it not be? How could a man be the same player when he switches from a franchise dependent upon fresh faces and young bodies instead of flashy free-agent market splashes, to a franchise that has some green stored away for the next opportune time to drive a stake through the heart of anything and everything Los Angeles Dodgers?

How can Zito be the same preconceived surfing aficionado that he was in Oakland when the waves of division rivals crash a little harder in San Francisco and the current of a nine-figure contract truly does attempt to suck him under?

He can't be, but luckily, he doesn't have to be all of what was originally asked of him after signing that behemoth seven-year, $126 million contract in December 2006.

After signing the largest contract ever given to a pitcher - until Johan Santana broke that record with a $137.5 million deal with the Mets in February 2008, only to be outdone once more by CC Sabathia's $161 million deal with the New York Yankees last winter - expectations grew larger than the Golden Gate Bridge, and Zito was set up for failure.

How could he of such riches be set up for failure? The ink didn't have to dry on that contract before Zito was expected to return to his 2002 form, with anything less being a sickening disappointment and a proverbial waste of money. Zito's '02 season marked his presence on the big league level as he led the Oakland A's rotation with a 23-5 record, 2.75 ERA, and won the Cy Young Award at 24 years old.

The problem is that there were plenty of reasons to be skeptical of Zito's fantastic Cy Young season, as four seasons of mediocrity, certainly nothing better than "fairly good," followed with the A's. Over the next four seasons, Zito only cracked 15 wins once, and saw his ERA rise substantially.

In 2004, Zito posted an ERA nearly two runs higher (4.48) than his '02 season, and his 2005 and 2006 seasons registered at 3.86 and 3.83, respectively. It would be appropriate to assume that the '02 season was an anomaly, an outlier on Zito's statistical pedigree, but the Giants got drunk on his 16-10 record in '06, right before hitting the free agent market.

It wasn't exactly surprising that general manager Brian Sabean went hard after Zito, considering that the Giants hadn't been to the playoffs in the three seasons prior to the signing of Zito, and the Giants' pitching staff was floating somewhere on the bottom of McCovey Cove. In 2006, San Francisco had one starting pitcher post an ERA below 4.00 - the 11-9 Jason Schmidt - and ranked in the bottom half in the National League in wins, earned runs, walks, and strikeouts.

The only aces the Giants knew were those dealt 30,000 feet in the sky while trying to pass the time on their way to the next city. But it was clear that was not what they were getting with Zito, so who do you fault for that? It certainly wasn't Zito's fault that Sabean and then-owner Peter Magowan were gaga over Barry and began scribbling exorbitant salary figures while disregarding the fiscal precipice they were blindly plunging from.

Zito didn't deserve the money he got, and therefore he didn't deserve the scrutiny that came with it and the ire of Giants fans that has routinely accompanied his starts. But fame and fortune hurl life's largest magnifying glass, and there is no rewriting the past for the Giants or Zito.

That's a blessing for Zito, because the past two seasons have been ugly, but that can also be a future blessing for the Giants, if they take the proper perspective. With Tim Lincecum, Matt Cain, and Randy Johnson occupying the first three spots in the rotation this spring, Zito has been accurately slotted in the back end of starting rotation, and that is where he belongs, which is no slight to Zito.

From the fourth spot of the rotation, Zito can finally provide some return on his mega-deal, and bring some value to the ball club. It may not be what the fans, or the Giants, were hoping for, but it will have to do because the alternative isn't any better. A free-agent signing blunder is just that, and it is time for both sides to make the best of it.

Given the innate weakness of the National League West, Zito could prove to be a wildcard in the Giants success this summer and their attempt to give the Dodgers a fight for the division crown.

Zito still has plenty in the tank to win, and that would be true even if he was pitching in the N.L. East. He is still mid-high 80's with his fastball, can still break off a good curveball, and has been increasing the use of his change up against right-handed hitters. If he commands his fastball, that is more than enough to win games.

Zito looked dead in his uniform for the first year and half in San Francisco, but in the second half of last season he began to break from his stupor and repair his broken psyche. He started to get some of his swagger back, throwing his pitches with confidence and trusting his talent that got him to San Fran in the first place.

Last September, Zito posted a 4-1 record with a 3.15 ERA in 34 1/3 innings, finally pitching like a guy who could support a contender, and it seems as if some of that success has allowed his aggressive attitude to transfer over to this season, although his numbers are not sparkling thus far.

Zito has only taken the mound against the Padres and Dodgers in 2009, with the box scores suggesting two crafty starts, and two starts that found their way to the bottom of a soggy barf bag. But Zito resembled a quality pitcher on April 16 at Dodger Stadium, before unraveling due to walks in the sixth inning, and has carried that presence with him.

Zito threw 6 1/3 innings Monday evening against the Dodgers, allowing three earned runs, after taking a shutout into the seventh inning. He earned a no-decision but the Giants won the game 5-4.

Zito is a little more animated these days, a little more emotional and fiery on the mound, but maybe that's a good thing for the Giants. After coasting through his glory days in Oakland, maybe something else is needed in order to give back to the San Francisco community that has given so much to him.

Whatever it may be, the soft side of Zito isn't as prevalent today, but that's not what the Giants are looking for. The Giants want quality starts, big money contract be damned, and those starts should translate into wins if the Giants can muster any semblance of a lineup.

Zito can only do what he is capable of, and that would still provide plenty of support at the back of the Giants rotation.

If he does exactly that, he'll be able to paddle out in the early morning waters of Northern California after his playing days are over, and there shall be no swells of wrath.

Teddy Mitrosilis is a staff writer at Around The Majors. You can reach him at tm4000@yahoo.com.

The vociferous crowd that filled EnergySolutions Arena to the brim Saturday evening took Utah Jazz head coach Jerry Sloan's 'Get Nasty' campaign to a new level, erupting to deafening levels beginning at tip off and ending as the Los Angeles Lakers waltzed off the court with a 3-1 lead in the first round of the Western Conference playoffs after pummeling the Jazz 108-94. 

One spectator held a sign claiming the loudest building in the NBA, and he may not be too far off, but doesn't the entire state of Utah know by now that Kobe Bryant relishes confrontation with indignant hecklers in the third row?

If a 13-point Game 3 blown lead, 5-for-24 Game 3 shooting night, and one wasted Game 3 opportunity wasn't enough, challenging Bryant to head home one win away from a formal burial certainly is. It took, oh, only enough time for Carlos Boozer to slap hands with his entire coaching staff and tie his shorts one last time before stepping on the court for Kobe Bryant to start shooting.

The Black Mamba may be a superficial alias covering up arguably the game's greatest closer, but there is no amount of Mamba Jamba that can wash over the reality that Bryant is basketball's most lethal player when he has something to prove, something to gain. The competition is over before it starts because Bryant craves the spotlight and the victory more than anyone else in the building.

The Lakers have arrived thus far because of a Kobe that drives and kicks, a Kobe that finds the open man instead of launching a contested shot, and a Kobe that gets rid of the ball quicker than a carnival juggler. Gone are the days of Kobe Isolation, the one-on-five street ball that attains nothing more than lengthy vacations.

And to label Bryant's Game 4 performance as a performance of the old ilk would be misleading. Kobe's stat line doesn't look like he shared much more than a pre-game sandwich with his teammates, but that wasn't the point. Kobe didn't need to take over the Lakers offense like he has in years past, he just needed to jump-start it.

Bryant shot 16-for-24 from the field, good for 38 points in 40 minutes to go along with 6 rebounds and 1 assist, but that team was more involved than that. Four other Lakers -- Lamar Odom, Pau Gasol, Derek Fisher, and Sasha Vujacic -- each took at least 8 shots of their own, and Shannon Brown reached double figures with ten points.

The Jazz exploited the Lakers inside game in Game 3, and still did that to some extent Saturday, but couldn't take advantage of the nonexistence of Lakers center Andrew Bynum. Bynum only played 7 minutes in Game 4, mainly because he cannot stay on the floor without taking a bite out of a Jazz player on his way to the hoop. Constant foul trouble is prohibiting Bynum from finding any rhythm on the offensive end, and the Lakers' inside threat has nearly vanished.

Los Angeles was still outscored by 18 points in the paint, and Gasol isn't proving that his touch-and-feel tendencies can translate into post season dominance just yet. Gasol infuriates Lakers fans because there are times when his soft touch and post moves are so smooth that he seemingly can get shots off at will, but then there are plenty of times, like Game 4, where he is bullied by a plethora of undersized bench players. 

Gasol is swarmed every time he brings the ball down to his hip, and he doesn't play a tough enough brand of basketball to bang for four quarters. He's not a scrapper, he's a mid-range jumper trapped on the block, and that's his problem. When other forwards are trying to tear down the rim, Gasol is setting up his best tear drop. There's no presence there. There are times to have touch, and there are times to get physical. I'm not so sure Gasol understands the latter.

The Lakers had the advantage on the boards after being slapped around by Carols Boozer in the previous game, but there still is a hole in the paint that they need to fill. Deron Williams would average 15 assists a night if he played the Lakers every game, because you could fit a yacht in the back end of the paint with the Lakers on defense.

It felt like every other possession resulted with a Jazz player getting a look within three feet of the basket. It's not as if Williams was getting much penetration, or if Utah was exposing a double-team, or if Sloan magically slipped a sixth man onto the court. Cutters simply marched through the lane without paying a toll, and the ball was delivered with ease. A lot of that can be linked back to the absence of Bynum, but the minor deficiencies will have to be cleaned up for the Lakers in the later rounds.

Of course, the Lakers cannot complain too much after taking the first two games of the series at home and then splitting two games on soil that is so hostile it would make some camp grounds in the Middle East wilt. Without Bynum, Bryant was forced to lead what would become a 'small ball' barrage of long jump shots and three pointers. 

When they fall, Los Angeles is nearly unbeatable like we saw Saturday. When they don't, they are as vulnerable as anybody else, as the Jazz proved in Game 3. 

But what may be one of the most important underlying subplots of Round One for the Lakers is the emergence of Shannon Brown at point guard. Brown's ten points in twenty minutes is the type of bench help the Lakers need when undersized, but it is everything else he brings to the court that is so tantalizing.

Brown is made for the playoffs and doesn't appear to be one to shy away from the big moments. Most importantly, he is a guy that looks like he can complement Kobe, allowing Bryant to sink back into a more natural scoring role than a distributing role.

Brown soaks up another ounce of confidence with every dribble he takes, and there is a palpable level of swagger and attitude when he takes the court. He looks like a guy that can take over a game with Kobe on the bench, but what is impressive is that he looks like a guy that wants to take over the game. He wants to be a killer. He wants to punish you. He wants to abuse you. And that's what wins in May and June when everybody is tired and the legs are crying for Cancun.

The Boston Celtics swiftly delivered that message last June after turning the Lakers into a cavalcade of purple and gold welts as they limped out of the Boston Garden. 

It looks like the Lakers have found some of that inner criminal with Brown, and even eHarmony couldn't find a better match with Kobe.

Sure, the Jazz still have some basketball to be played, they still have some life, but this series ain't getting back to Utah. A club that was playing one-legged hopscotch without Mehmet Okur is too deep in their own blood to believe in any resuscitation. 

Phil Jackson would prefer more of a team game in Game 5, and the L.A. diehards won't care as long as they are toasting Round 2 afterwards. But if the troops are wayward with their fire, it's back to Mr. Bryant's blazing bazooka for the Lakers.

Not that it particularly matters. With Utah's eyes rolled back, there's more where that 'nasty' came from.

You can reach Teddy Mitrosilis at tm4000@yahoo.com.