Quickly: Pokémon GO + Battery Packs = Prep for Nintendo Switch?

If you’ve played Pokémon GO, you know it’s a phone battery hog. And if you’re like me, you’re also running Charity Miles while you’re walking around, because, hey… it’s a good thing to do. But that only further adds to the battery woes.pokemon_go_logo.png

Pokémon GO didn’t make me buy a battery pack, but it did make me use the one I that I bought for camping (I have this goofy one that’s super-cheap right now). Now it’s always in my laptop bag, and goes with me in my CamelBak when my wife and I go hiking.

Here’s a question though… do we really have battery woes? Practically every tech device iu.jpegwe own – phone, laptop, tablet, eReader, smartwatch, FitBit, on and on – has a battery. We’ve got chargers everywhere. Point is, there’s already an ecosystem in most tech-savvy homes – and most non-tech savvy homes, to be honest – that supports charging a device like this. And Switch is rumored to use USB-C, which while not as ubiquitous as the standard USB jack, is not likely to cause mass confusion and consternation.

Nintendo Switch might end up being be a battery vampire, but thanks to Pokémon GO – and all our other devices that also need charging – it’s no big deal.

Nintendo’s Switch Reveal: A Different Marketing Pitch

Nearly everything in Nintendo’s three-and-a-half minute Switch reveal we already knew from rumor. The only thing that we really didn’t know – as it turned out – was how Nintendo would talk about the new machine and who they were going to aim it at.

The nature of the Switch, it’s duality as a portable home console must have proved an interesting challenge for Nintendo’s marketing team. And what they came up with is fascinating. Here’s a couple of quick points.

No Kids Allowed: Back to the Red Ocean?

The first time we ever see the Switch, this is the setup: a 20- to 30-something man is playing Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild, by himself, on a big flat-screen, with an industry standard pro controller. The portability is showcased soon after, but consider that first glimpse: no waggling of Wii-motes, no tablet controller, no kiddie colors. Coupled with the brief glimpses of Skyrim and NBA2K we see later in the trailer, this is a bald attempt at siren call to the hard core. The message is clear: go with Switch, and you can play your AAA multi-platform games wherever you like… along with Nintendo’s outstanding first-party games. This could be a boost in Nintendo’s war to win back the core. Consider: if the third party list they showed comes through at all and can remain even modestly consistent though the life of the platform, Nintendo could be swimming with the sharks again, and holding their own.

2DS/3DS is Nintendo’s Machine for Kids… for Now.

Nintendo created mobile gaming with the GameBoy and its successor systems, and have dominated the space… until smartphones. Even still, though not hitting the lofty heights of the 150-million selling DS family, the 2DS and 3DS has sold more than 60 million units worldwide. They aren’t going to want to abandon or alienate that base for awhile. (And everything we have heard says that they won’t.)

In light of the way Switch is configured and the internal corporate restructuring that Satoru Iwata oversaw at the Big N before his untimely death, Nintendo wants to turn two pillars – console and handheld – into one pillar. Eventually, the 2DS/3DS family will have to be mothballed. What happens then? How will they do it?

The 2DS price point is amazing right now. Access to the deep 3DS game library for $80. The Switch won’t be able to compete with that, with a price that’s likely going to come in between $299-$399 depending on bundle configuration. But once 12-18 months have passed, the economies of scale and chip commoditization will get that price dropping. Once that happens, Nintendo can start adding ‘lower-end’ models in more kid-friendly colors. Then .

 

Easy Mode’s Friendly Trolling: Dual-Stick FPS Controls are Terrible

Swarms of enemies approach, intent on relieving me of my life. Missiles arc in from the distance, taking out half the advance squad I’d sent ahead in a beautifully rendered explosion that turns everything on my screen a searing burnt orange.

I hold the controller tightly in sweaty palms, feeling the shoulder buttons under my itchy fingers, and the rubberized sticks under my thumbs.

It’s go time.

Crysis? Sure. I'm having a crisis.

Crysis? Sure. I’m having a crisis.

I push one stick forward and my aim drops to the ground. Oops. That’s the wrong one. I push the other stick forward and finally move into the field of battle, taking fire from somewhere. Ouch. I can’t see which enemy is shooting me, because I’m still looking down. If I was playing co-op, my friends would think that I’m a noob looking for loose change. My face flushes. I pull back on the stick… too high, and now I’m spinning around, too. I manage to stop the rotation, and tap the aiming stick back down, and at last I have an enemy in my sights. I pull the trigger. Got one!, I think, and then I’m swarmed under by aliens. Or soldiers. Or alien zombie soldiers. It matters little, since I couldn’t do anything. I was not the master of my own destiny.

Dual-stick controls are terrible.

I think that deep down, we all know this. But it’s the control scheme we’ve been given, based on the tech that was available, so we muddle on with it as best we can. To be fair – and friendly -some of us are very, very good with dual sticks. I am not one of those people.

It's so... steampunk.

It’s so… steampunk.

To me, dual-stick is very much like the keyboard layout that I’m using to type these words. But the Qwerty keyboard was designed to manipulate keystrokes in order to keep the old typing machines from jamming. There are any number of keyboard layouts that are faster, the Dvorak layout to name the most prominent alternative. I’ve thought about using a Dvorak layout, but the thought of relearning how to type makes me cringe. Just like most dual-stickers aren’t going to embrace anything else either.

The first traditional FPS I played and liked was the original Goldeneye on N64. That controller has one stick and the yellow camera buttons. It was a bad control scheme, but we all made due because the game was so fun, both in single player campaign and the ground-breaking four-player local multi-player that kept us all up to the wee hours of the morning. PS1 had the dual sticks, but I never had that console. PS2 and Xbox retained dual-stick, sold 800 bajillion units and dual stick became entrenched as the standard, if it hadn’t been already. I played those Sony consoles a bit and Xbox and 360, but never got the hang of it.

I couldn’t play first person shooters until the Wii. Metroid Prime Three: Corruption may not be the best of the Prime Trilogy, but the controls were a revelation to me. Aim with the Wii remote and move with the stick. Fire button, jump button. I was a pro in about 10 minutes. It’s so easy. No more fighting the controls, just playing a game.

Is the control fine-grained? It’s not keyboard-and-mouse tight, but it’s not bad. Not bad at all. It works because it’s so… intuitive. I muddled through the original Prime game on Gamecube. I enjoyed it pretty well,but it was often a pain in the butt because of the controls. When they did the Prime Trilogy box set with the Wii controls, I was so happy I almost bought two copies.

I clearly remember traditional FPS players – dual stick and mouse-and-keyboard fans alike – trashing Prime 3 because there weren’t any options for dual stick. I get that. We all want to use what we’re used to using.

Just because you’re used to something doesn’t mean it’s better, though. But hey, it doesn’t really matter, as long we’re all having fun.

What is your preferred FPS/First Person Adventure control scheme? And do you think that your preferred scheme is the actually the best, or are you just used to it?

Easy Mode: A Gaming Way of Life

[All Easy Mode blogs are cross-posted over at ign.com. Link.]

Every gamer knows what Easy Mode is, and most wouldn’t admit to using it. This blog celebrates Easy Mode and all that it entails.

Why? Let me explain.

How did I – by most indications an experienced gamer – come to be this way?

It starts with the following personality trait: I will walk a hundred miles through the flaming desert, over broken glass, with no water, and wild animals attacking me from every side in order to figure out a way to make something easier. Not only in the immediate time frame, but also in the long term – even if it’s less time consuming to simply attack the problem in front of me with brute force.

This desert is no impediment to me.

I’m a writer/editor by trade and also do some layout work. I recently had to process about 300 JPEGs for size and contrast. I could have done it by hand or hired out, but screw that! Instead I spent an hour and a half and $15 devising a way – my own way – to automate the process. Such is my commitment to clever problem solving to increase efficiency. (I’m just saying: I’m not this kind of gamer because I’m lazy.)

How does this trait apply this to games? I recently analyzed my gamer tendencies (long, dark night of the gaming soul) and found these to be at the heart of what brings out the gaming curmudgeon in me:

  • Difficulty for the sake of difficulty. I’ve never been a gaming masochist. Not going to start now. (I’ve heard of Dark Souls, and I’m not playing it.)
  • Boss Battles and Mini Bosses. I begrudgingly admit that these pains in my butt are necessary and worthwhile for both achievement and story purposes, but I still hate every last awesomely rendered, ridiculously oversized one of them. At least a little.
  • A game that suddenly jumps in difficulty for no good reason. Bad game design. Happens a lot with puzzlers for some reason (like Crashmo).
  • A game that adjusts game balance by throwing more enemies at you for no good reason. Cheap way out, game designers. Cheap. And annoying.
  • Grinding. Dear lord, don’t get me started on this mother of all time sinkholes. If you can’t fold grinding into something worthwhile, hand in your designer’s badge.

Look… I’m old. I work. I don’t have time for any of this crap. I want to experience meaningful gameplay consistently from beginning to the end so I can progress through whatever level system or story you’ve offered up without getting bogged down. That’s a game that will pass the Easy Mode threshold of awesome.

Should everything in life be easy? No. Of course not. I’ve been working on my golf swing for years, and it’s just now rounding into form. Getting an education should be hard, so you’re prepared. Fights against serious illness are hard. So many things in life challenge us. For me, gaming shouldn’t be one of them.

Like this, mmm’kay??

This makes me sound like I don’t like a gaming challenge. That’s not necessarily true. I don’t mind a challenge, I just prefer that the challenge isn’t a result of bad or malicious game design. In fact, I consider a game to be a success from a design standpoint if it manages to up the difficulty without irritating me – and trust me: I’m a good barometer for that. Usually this happens because the game is so well designed that the increase in difficulty is one for which the game has prepared you. A game that incorporates superb design and extremely well-balanced gameplay hits the Easy Mode mark. And don’t underestimate how much a compelling story/mystery can help as well.

So welcome to Easy Mode! I’ll be doing game analysis and reviews (Easy Mode style of course), editorials, and other forms of complaining (sorry, Brian Altano!).

I know that there are gamers like me out there, gamers that proudly grumble when the going gets tough. Join me.

Easy Mode: Resident Evil Is More Broken Than Other Games

In a way, all games are broken. In order to create gameplay, a designer has to set up parameters that may not necessarily make sense in order to create a playground in which gamers can get satisfying gameplay. It’s the way that obstacles and their solutions are created in games.

Super Mario Brothers is ‘broken’ by its control limitations: jump, run, run faster, sometimes fireball. But we don’t consider this game broken, we consider it one of the best games of all time. Why? Because the designers broke it in a way that created great gameplay. And it helps that it takes place in a fantastical place like the Mushroom Kingdom. The further designers get from reality, the easier it is to ‘break’ games in an acceptable way.

The Resident Evil franchise, however, is broken, both from a control standpoint and character motion standpoint. And that’s not good. At least not for me.

First, the control choices. I bought the Gamecube remake of the original Resident Evil, pretty pumped that I was finally getting a chance to play the game that started a genre. I was new to the world of actual voice acting and motion-capture and was really excited by the intro. It’s creepy, intriguing and cinematic, hinting at so much. So far so good.

But once the characters stopped talking, and I finally got to play… I was immediately disappointed and angry. The Gamecube version has three different controller setups, all very different and all equally useless. Why? That damned fixed camera. I understand that survival horror relies on a feeling of claustrophobia and an inability to respond quickly due to surprise. Well, putting the camera up in the corner a room in the mansion and having the scene change at unspecified points, certainly enables the latter. When the point of view changes unexpectedly as you move, what constitutes ‘forward’ also changes. So suddenly, through no intention of your own, Jill Valentine is running into a wall, looking super stupid. Ridiculous. How are you supposed to ‘survive’ if you can’t even properly make your intentions known to the game through the controller without playing everything twice? The first zombie encounter in RE was embarrassing for me. I had no idea what to do. No survival. All sense of realism that the (then) excellent graphics had engendered came crashing down. The game quickly became a chore, not a game, even after I got used to the control scheme. Who needs that? It’s a game!

Next point. I think they remade a couple of the other early REs for Gamecube, but I skipped them. Then came Resident Evil 4. Somehow, against all my instincts (and helped along by the dearth of good titles for Gamecube) I bought it.

No fixed camera! Big improvement right? Absolutely. But RE4 revealed another big problem for the franchise (for me): speed of character. In RE4, you play as Leon, an athletic, young male character. But all you can do is either walk very slowly, or run less slowly. The original RE has this issue as well, but inn RE4, we’re not trapped in a mansion anymore. The zombies are pretty fast with better AI. That’s nice too. But why am I stuck controlling a cripple? It’s like Leon is a fat man with bad knees and ankles. It’s distracting in and of itself, because it’s so unnatural. So what happens with slow, crippled Leon? You can’t get away from the crowds of zombies to snipe…. which is what I’d do if I actually found myself in that situation. Not happening here. Slowpoke Leon just gets you swarmed under. I understand that the game would be too easy for most people, but what the heck is wrong with easy? I like easy. I’m a champion of easy. At least give me a chance to actually experience the story! But no, RE is broken. And it just bothers me. Why can’t I run? Why? It’s a break from reality (like in Super Mario Brothers), but a bad one, because the game is trying to be as realistic as possible. So crippled Leon really sticks out to me. And I just can’t get past it from a story-telling perspective.

Perhaps it’s just the genre. It probably is. I’ll just refrain from playing survival horror games anymore. (Or perhaps ZombiU is more my speed. I’ll just need a WiiU to find out. (Somebody help me out with that!)

I know that games have to break reality to be games. They have to. There has to be constraints and parameters to play the game out against. But sometimes, the choices that are made are too distracting for me to get satisfying gaming out of it. Resident Evil is that in spades.

Easy Mode: Throwing Money at the Problem

Welcome to my new blog feature, Easy Mode! It’s all about games and gaming and complaining artfully when things get too damned hard. Because truly, life is too short to have a difficult time winning video games. Enjoy!

So it looks like we’re all stuck with in-app purchases as a gaming business model. I was hoping that it was just a phase and we could all go back to purchasing feature-complete games, but devs know that there’s a sucker born every minute. We won’t see the end of the practice any time soon!

A primary genesis for this model is Apple’s refusal to implement any kind up traditional ‘demo’ system in the iOS App store. The in-app purchases somewhat enabled demoing, but developers realized that they could just offer the game for free and nickel and dime us all until we were bored and broke and they were rich and – hopefully – ridden with guilt. Not holding my breath.

I hate the business model.

Still, with proper implementation and sufficiently awesome game quality, in-app purchases can be non-offensive and even make the game more fun. It’s interesting to see how various game developers go about setting up their in-app stores and upon which game mechanics they try to force the player to choose grinding or paying.

In my experience, the best handling of in-app purchases starts with a feature-complete game that you pay something for rather than a free game with purchased add-ons. I’m actually more likely to try a game that I have to pay for up front, the logic being that since I’m paying for something, I’m going to actually get the playable game that I’m looking for at a high baseline of quality – one that can be played from beginning to a satisfying end without paying for anything else. One game like this is (or was; it’s now free in the App store) the exemplary tower defense game Kingdom Rush by Ironhide Studios. (I think I paid full price for this game twice, once for my iPad and once for my iPhone, more because I wanted to support the developer’s fine effort than for any kind of convenience.)

Kingdom Rush is an interesting case vis a vis in-app purchases due to the fact that they were introduced quite a long time after the game had been around. Ironhide Studios added a number of extra levels for free but then introduced some hero characters, some of which were free (earned in-game) and some of which were premium (anywhere from $.99-$4.99 depending on sales). They also eventually implemented a shop where you could buy power-ups and other items with collectable in-game money. You can, of course, buy the in-game money with real money, but relative to some other games out there, it’s cheap. The heroes and power-ups feel more like fun game extensions rather than nickel-and-dime-ing. Because of the implementation. The game had Easy and Normal difficulty settings to begin with, so they didn’t break difficulty to add things on. They eventually added a Hard mode, which is still doable for the experienced Kingdom Rush-er, but does benefit from the use purchased power-ups and heroes. All-in-all, well done on the implementation front. I hope the next game in the series, Kingdom Rush: Frontiers, follows this model.

On the other hand…

NimbleBit’s latest offering Nimble Quest is a different matter entirely. The game was free when I got it (I think anyway), now $.99. The game mechanics are simple and full of action and enemies, and the game is great to play in little chunks when you have the chance. Progressing through the game is addictive and satisfying. But the way that they use in-app purchases is just kind of crass. In order to unlock the 10-spot (in addition to the 1- and 5-spots) of in-game money – with which you need to purchase boosted power-ups and levels of experience for the characters – it was a $4.99 in-app purchase.

Oof.

You need that 10-spot to get any kind of chance at leveling up characters and progressing through the game at a reasonable rate. Therefore the game really costs $4.99. I actually would have been fine with that, but no, they chose the most execrable technique of nickel-and-dime-ing.

NimbleBit and other devs that set up their games this way basically break their games by manipulating the difficulty balance, forcing the player to decided if they want to grind – like, a lot – or throw real and, therefore, in-game money at the problem. So they make the game too difficult and then force the player pay more to progress. For someone like me that’s been gaming since the Atari 2600, this is anathema. I’m used to paying up to $50-$60 dollars for a complete and immersive experience, so it’s not the money that bothers me. It’s what the particular application of in-app purchases does to game play. Even if I like a game – and I like Nimble Quest – at some point in the experience, I’ll feel cheated. Sure, we’re talking a lot less than $60 for a game, and the depth of experience reflects that, but it’s a value proposition that leaves me scratching my head, wondering why I bother. Spoiler alert: I like games.

But is it even a game anymore if you have to pay to progress in a reasonable manner?

If nothing else, it’s going to be interesting to see how this practice evolves.

It’s over. Give up the guns.

I’m not sure anything can be added to the vast commentary and collective horror we’re all experiencing and sharing as a result of the gut-wrenching tragedy that occurred in Connecticut today. But I’m going to add something anyway. Because frankly, this conversation can’t be big enough. Every time something like this happens, our media and officials cover for the wrong-headed pro-gun lobby. And some of them are doing it still. But that’s over now. It has to be.

We cannot apologize for our gun laws anymore. Why now? Why is this different? In most salient ways it’s not any different than so many of the other tragic shootings that we’ve endured in our country in the last decade. But this is different.

How? Why?

Some sick man shot his mother and brother, and then went to a school and mowed down a classroom full of kindergarteners – among our most precious and vulnerable – with a near-military grade automatic assault weapon. This happened. And things like this will continue to happen until we restrict access to guns in our county.

My god. Why are we putting our 5-year-olds in the position to have to be this brave?

The Second Amendment is an antiquated relic that had no notion of AK-47s and automatic handguns or the way our society is currently built and maintained.

Take the guns away. Now.

But that’s not all.

We have to get the mentally ill the help and security that they need. We have to de-stigmatize mental illness.

People are going to say that gun laws are complex and political, and evaluating the mentally ill is is difficult and unreliable. Bullshit. Guns may not inherently kill people, but they continue to enable the unstable and evil among us to perpetrate massacres. An assault rifle has no purpose other than to massacre. And the mentally ill need to be recast as victims rather than ignored or thrown under the bus.

Look… I don’t have all the answers. None us of could. But, I will say this: if these changes are not things that you want out of your society, then fuck you: you can go join another one.

If we can’t protect the newest of our school-going children from massacre, then just what the fuck are our laws and our moral priorities doing for us?

If we can’t identify and help the people who are most likely to perpetrate these atrocities, then we need to rethink our approach.

I know we can’t stop all atrocities like this – that would be impossible. But can try. We have to try.
And another round of status quo is not going to get it.

It’s over. Give up the guns.

Wave or particle?

I’ve been meaning to write about the recent news regarding a new experiment tackling the wave-particle duality of quantum objects – in this case using “relatively large phthalocyanine (C32H18N8) and derivative molecules (C48H26F24N8O8)” rather than the typical photons.

The idea is to try and pinpoint where classical (macro) physics ends and where quantum effects (micro) take over and using larger particles gives scientists a chance to do this. That’s an interesting idea to be sure.

I don’t want to get into that particular experiment per se, but rather to unpack the language and explore the general implication of a ‘wave-particle duality’.

This article and most other writings on the subject use phrases similar to ‘sometimes like a particle and sometimes like a wave’ when describing the actions and interactions of quantum particles. I’ve even seen the uncertainty principle invoked in ways that make it sound as if the photon or other particle ‘chooses’ what to be as it goes. (Please someone save us all from anthropomorphic particles!) Or that photons exhibit both qualities simultaneously. The implications of these observations seem to always end up being something like the sub-atomic world is ‘stranger than fiction’ or some such sentiment.

This quality of ‘weirdness’ and duality has its root, I think, in the fallacy of empty space. If light can travel through a vacuum, and it exhibits both wave and particle properties, then we have to invoke the phrase ‘sometimes like a particle and sometimes like a wave’ because empty space contains none of the mass necessary to propagate waves in a classical sense.

So to me the implication is far simpler: it implies a medium of some kind. Call it ether or dark matter or whatever, but as a hard determinist and physical infinity proponent, I subscribe to the notion that there can be no empty space. Therefore it’s ‘particles all the way down’ as it were. If this is the case, then light is simply particles compressing on each other in different ways to form what we call light or radio waves, etc.

All the arguments against ether (or gravity construed as a particle effect) usually get poo-pooed because of drag – too much frictional heat for the idea to be plausible. That’s just a non-sequitur. Just because drag occurs with air particles, doesn’t mean that the interaction of these very small particles – that we know little about – works the same way.

Particle or wave? Waves are made by particles. By definition. That’s either true, or we need different words to describe what scientists are seeing in these double-slit experiments.

New Star Wars. Go big or go home.

I am a man of a certain age, an age that puts me square in the Star Wars wheelhouse. I turned three the year the original film hit theaters. But I still managed to see it in the theater when I was four. That movie stayed in theaters FOREVER.

I had all the toys. The greatest Christmas of my childhood involved the Millennium Falcon that everyone wanted. My older brother patiently applied all the stickers in the right places for me. Galaxy-hopping bliss ensued.

Then in 1981 there was Empire in all its sister-kissing, father-revealing, cliff-hanger-y glory. I was 10 when Jedi came out. I managed to see that one in the theater four times. Couldn’t believe the story was over. Didn’t want to.

We all believed that there would be more movies. Me and my friends were convinced the story wasn’t over. Too popular. They would think of something. There were the rumors of VII, VIII, and IX. But years went by, empty of fresh Star Wars content (I watched the Ewok TV movies, but I am not proud of this fact), we gave up.

Then Lucas opened up the post-Jedi timeline to novelists. The books are great, the few that I’ve read anyway, particularly the original Tim Zahn trilogy. As good as they are, they suffer from a fatal flaw, an air-duct-on-a-Death-Star type flaw: they aren’t movies! Star Wars is movie-ness and movie-osity incarnate. They are perhaps the movie-est of all movies.

College. That’s when the prequels hit. It wasn’t what we all wanted, but we convinced ourselves it would be awesome. It wasn’t as awesome as most hoped, but for me, the prequels weren’t as bad as people seem to believe. I think that they were different to us mainly because we were different. Older. There’s a huge difference between exposure to stories as children than as adults. The former is formative, the latter subject to the often unkind filters of adult experience coupled with suspect childhood memories and emotions.

But when Lucas sold to Disney and announced the next trilogy, there was a huge freak out in my childhood and adult selves. Finally new content in movie form! This is right, this is good. And Lucas is only overseeing. This is good. The script writer has cred, and the movie will benefit from a director that can work with actors.

People will no doubt complain about the quality. They’ll hate the actors or directors, the script, the comic relief characters… Forget all that crap. The 10-year-old in me wants Star Wars and wants to like it. So that’s what I’m going to do.

Here’s hoping that the Star Wars brain trust pulls out all the stops. Give us another story that’s huge and intimate at the same time. Give us believable eye-candy. Gives us a kick-ass soundtrack.

Go big, or don’t bother.

New coach, new system… but will Kobe adapt?

It as never my intention for this to be a political blog so I’m going to start fixing this today. How about some basketball?

After the glacial 1-4 start for the hometown Lakers, the cries were growing for Mike Brown’s ouster. During games, cries for Phil Jackson echoed off the banners in Staples Center. And so Brown got the axe, lickety-split.

And everyone thought that Phil would get the job – even Phil. But Lakers brass went with another rumored name: Mike D’antoni.

From the first rumor, I thought that D’antoni would be a weird choice. The run-and-gun transition style that he made famous with the Phoenix Suns might be fine for the young bench players (who need every advantage they can get), but would kill the aging starting five the Lakers are relying on. But maybe not – they system also is heavy on pick-and-roll, which even ancient ballers can handle.

A lot of pixels have been spilled writing about how D’antoni has learned from his stint with the Knicks and will adapt his system, and how his teams aren’t nearly as bad defensively as everyone thinks they are (they gave up more points because their pace-of-play generated more possessions for not only themselves, but for their opponents as well).

Will it make a difference? The interim coach, Bernie Bickerstaff basically just got out of the way, and the Lakers immediately started playing winning ball (though they haven’t played a decent team since the Clippers (is that right?!)). So clearly talent, knowledge, and experience can do a lot on its own. Having a dedicated offensive system will help. Getting Steve Nash back from his fractured knee knob will also do wonders.

But there’s only one thing that will ultimately make this all work: how will Kobe adapt? Will Kobe adapt?

This, I think matters more than the coach, the system, the other starters, the bench… anything. If Kobe is happy with his role, the Lakers will do well. If not, not.

He’s shown a willingness to adapt to new styles of play, but this is a man that wants the ball in his hands, needs the ball in his hands to feel like himself. He’s led the league in usage for like…. ever.
Can he be satisfied with the ball in Nash’s hands? Will he be happy camped in the corner or setting screens? Of course he should be, and he’ll say he is. But how patient will he be this time?

As Kobe goes, so go the Lakers. Period.