Kobe Bryant’s Biggest Weakness: Offensive-Take-Over-Itis

Kobe Bryant needs no introduction.

Whether you like him or not, whether you’re a fan of his comically-intense scowl at the end of close games or not, and regardless of whether you root for him in his inevitable lengthy playoff appearances or not makes no difference. You have to tip your hat to Kobe Bryant.

Kobe obviously is physically gifted, but his prowess (and now his dynasty with the Los Angeles Lakers) comes from his dedication to his craft over supernal physicality. Such is the difference between Kobe and LeBron Jame, at this stage of their respective careers. LeBron is a physical specimen at 6’8″, 250 lbs. chained to lightning speed; his late-game takeovers (at their best) are a clinic in aggressively taking the ball to the rack. Kobe’s dominance, on the other hand, doesn’t come from his pedestrian height, build, or speed, but rather from thirteen seasons of careful, painstaking rehearsal.

We saw it this past summer as Kobe took a personal weakness—his post game, a facet of play that was neither missed nor expected in his game—and sought out an expert. He took on the tutelage of Hakeem Olajuwon, perhaps one of the best post players of all time, to refine a skill he might use a couple times a game, or not at all.

So where does Kobe fall short? Where is there still a seam in the game that he has taken so much time, so much unceasing energy to perfect?

The debate of whether Kobe or LeBron is the better player is fruitless and irrelevant. Kobe appears to be done winning MVPs, LeBron wins those now, but Bryant doesn’t yet seem done winning championships. He’s got an all-world supporting cast and a Hall of Fame coach, and at 31 still seems to have plenty in the tank for another title run. But try to be though he may, Kobe Bryant isn’t perfect.

It took just a little digging to find out how.

First I took every standard statistical measure (from field goals attempted to steals to personal fouls) from every game that Kobe played in during this 2009-2010 season (73 games, he missed nine). I tested each statistic against the game’s eventual margin of victory (which would, of course, be negative for a loss) to see how strong the correlation was between the two. The idea was that if anything came out with a strong negative correlation, it meant the team did worse this season when Kobe did more of it.

A correlation coefficient close to 1 or -1 denotes a strong, predictable correlation; close to zero means no real correlation between the two. Positive means a direct correlation, negative means an inverse. Since most NBA statistics measure a positive contribution, any negative correlation is worth noting.

The strongest positive correlation was steals (meaning that when Kobe got more steals, the team was more likely to win—and also less likely to win when he got fewer). Interesting. Also topping the list were strong correlations with assists and field goal percentage, which make good sense. Then blocks, then personal fouls.

Looking further down the list, however, revealed a gaping statistical flaw. The strongest negative correlation was with minutes played—meaning the team was more likely to win when he played fewer minutes. But of course that’s the case. If the game is well in hand, then Kobe will sit the fourth quarter, and his minutes will be fewer. When the second-strongest negative correlation was field goal attempts, the concept was reinforced.

So I ran the data again. This time I took per-minute data for each stat to counter the effects of playing time. For example, I’d be testing the correlation between games where Kobe scored more points per minute played and the game’s eventual outcome.

The ship was righted. And some things didn’t change at all.

The Lakers still proved to be most likely to win when Kobe was prolific in steals, assists, blocks, and fouls. His scoring came next. The strongest negative correlations were offensive rebounds, field goal attempts, and three-point attempts.

In context? The Lakers were more likely to win this season when Kobe had more steals (defense), assists (getting teammates involved), blocks (defense), and fouls (aggressiveness, primarily on defense). They were less likely when he had more offensive rebounds (offense, obviously), field goal attempts (offense), and three-point attempts (offense again).

It’s easy to go overboard on the implications of such a statistical correlation. Obviously the Lakers wouldn’t have been quite the same this season, or any season, without Kobe’s 27 points per game. But it does mean that more field goal attempts from the Black Mamba aren’t always better. According to the numbers, the more he takes, the worse his team does (or, perhaps more likely, he takes more shots when his team is doing poorly).

But more steals? And more assists? Yep. Pretty much always better. Consider that the Lakers went 15-3 when Kobe had three steals or more (and 8-0 when he had four or more). They also went 10-3 when he racked up eight or more assists, and 3-0 when he dished out double-digit dimes. Contrast those with going 3-5 when he took thirty or more field goal attempts.

It’s not something that happens terribly often, at least anymore, so it’s hard to call it a weakness. But we’ll let it rest by saying that Kobe Bryant is at his weakest when he’s trading in defense in order to take over on offense.

Nobody’s called Kobe Bryant a chucker in years, and he hasn’t been accused of selfishness or ball-hoggery at least since Pau Gasol came aboard. In the Lakers’ dark post-Shaq years Kobe was known to take over games at the expense of actually winning them. It’s a relic; it’s from the past.

It’s also worth noting that this year’s Lakers weren’t less likely to win when Kobe scored more points (the opposite was true), just when he took more shots. The older, experienced Kobe is better equipped to take over games efficiently. And use his teammates. And win.

Kobe Bean Bryant is certain to go down as one of the greatest Lakers of all time, one of the greatest shooting guards, and one of the best closers to ever suit up. But even Kobe, obsessed with perfection, has his flaws. The numbers tell us that his regression into old Kobe, shooting excessively and taking plays off on defense, isn’t entirely gone. It may never be.

But maybe it’s in remission.