Sixteen years ago, Kobe Bryant had one of the ugliest great nights of his career.
Game 7 of the 2010 NBA Finals was supposed to be the ultimate Kobe stage: Lakers vs. Celtics, Los Angeles vs. Boston, legacy vs. legacy, one more championship hanging in the balance. Instead, Bryant spent most of the night fighting the rim, the defense, the pressure and probably himself. He finished 6-for-24 from the field, a shooting line that normally gets attached to heartbreak, not immortality.
But Game 7s do not always care about beauty. Sometimes they are won by survival. Sometimes they are won by defense, rebounds, loose balls and one teammate with no fear of the moment. That teammate was Ron Artest.
With just over a minute left, the Lakers led 76-73. The game was still choking on tension. Every possession felt like it weighed a ton. Bryant drove, the Celtics collapsed, and the ball found Artest on the right wing. Paul Pierce lunged with an outstretched hand, but Artest rose anyway and buried the three.
79-73 Lakers.
One shot. Six-point lead. Breathing room.
A bucket that rewrote the night. Bryant’s poor shooting no longer stood alone as the defining image. Pau Gasol’s toughness, the Lakers’ defense, their rebounding and Artest’s nerve all became part of the rescue mission. Los Angeles held on, beat Boston 83-79, and won its second straight championship.
The funniest part is that Artest, later Metta World Peace, was never supposed to be the calmest man in the room. Yet in that moment, he took the shot like he had been designed for it. No hesitation. No overthinking. Just rise, fire, and permanently place himself inside Lakers history.
“Kobe passed me the ball. He never passes me the ball!”
13 years ago today, Ron Artest & one of the greatest NBA Championship press conferences ever 😂 pic.twitter.com/WBhr8XXHNH
— Ballislife.com (@Ballislife) June 17, 2023
Kobe still won Finals MVP, and deservedly so. He had carried the Lakers through the series and grabbed 15 rebounds in Game 7 when his shot would not fall. But that night also proved something important about championship basketball: even legends need rescuing sometimes.
