From the Floor: The hate's gone, but the rivalry still lives

In the 1984 NBA Finals, Kareem Abdul-Jabbar took a rebound and threw a 60-foot outlet to James Worthy, who tossed it to a streaking Kurt Rambis. Kurt, goggles and all, caught the rock in stride, took one Rambis-dribble and then ... got clotheslined by Kevin McHale. Mayhem ensued. It doesn't matter that Rambis was a somewhat ancillary player in the 80s' Lakers-Celtics epics or if that play isn't even a blip on the radar in the annals of big-time Lakers-Celtics plays. That single play was one of the most telling acts of the Lakers-Celtics rivalry. McHale cupped Rambis' Adam's apple between his forearm and bicep, slammed him to the hardwood, stalled the game for a good while, incited the Forum crowd to just-below-rioting levels and manifested the general dislike (maybe even hatred) between Boston and Los Angeles.

"And you knew this was gonna happen," said Brent Musburger, who was announcing the game with Tommy Heinsohn. "You could see it coming."

That, my friends, was a good ol' 80s rivalry.

LAKERS VS. CELTICS -- 8 P.M. ET, TNT
	Tonight's game is the final regular-season meeting of last year's NBA Finals teams. • Dec. 25: Bryant, Gasol halt Celtics' run • Peterson: Lakers vs. Celtics preview • Video: Lakers vs. Celtics rivalry • 2008 NBA Finals All-Access video: Game 1 | Game 2 | Game 3 | Game 4 | Game 5 | Game 6

This Thursday, when L.A. and Boston meet for the last time of the regular season, Mitch Kupchak -- who cleared the bench with his Lakers teammates in '84 -- will watch as GM and architect of this current Lakers squad, merely an observer of the renewed clash of the titans. One thing will be clear to Kupchak and fans: This Lakers-Celtics rivalry ain't like the one of his day.

The NBA has changed. The new-millennium NBA, specifically of the last five years, is one of congeniality and cordiality. These kats hug before tipoff, chat up each other during free throws and go out of their way to seek each other out after the final buzzer to pay respect. It can make an old-school fan gag, but it's exactly what everyone was pining for during the supposed "Dark Ages," otherwise known as the late-'90s and early-'00s. Most folks (not including me) hated the trash-talking, the posturing, the crotch-grabbing, the scowling and the beef back then. Never mind that little happened during those 10 misunderstood years that was different or, on many levels, even comparable to the relative cantankerousness of the '80s. The big deal here is that the NBA has so thoroughly re-imaged itself through league rules and latent generational shifts that the current NBA just doesn't accommodate the most salient quality of the old rivalries: hate.

Players have been balling with and against each other since their AAU days in middle school. In today's NBA, marked by free-agency induced roster-fluidity, many players have been teammates. And the rules that once allowed for excessive woofing and extremely physical play have been tightened. Bill Laimbeer is now Brad Miller. Deron Williams is the new Gary Payton. Heat-Knicks is Suns-Spurs. This is leading some to ask, "Why all the love?" instead of, "Where is the love?"

How often do you hear the phrase, "These two teams really hate each other" anymore? Never. But players and executives have made it clear that dislike and hate need not be major ingredients in rivalries. The thinking that all the friendliness is taking away from the tension and conflict that ramps up the drama of your typical rivalry? That's patently false.

"The NBA has changed," Kupchak told me. "You can't do the same things. It was much more physical in the '80s. But that doesn't mean that things are any less passionate."

In the late '80s and early '90s, Lakers-Celtics became Bulls-Pistons. The drama in that rivalry lay in Michael Jordan's quest to fight through all the Pistons' intimidation tactics and get his first ring. Lance Blanks witnessed that rivalry at its apex, as a Piston, when the Bulls wrestled dominance away from their former bullies. Sometimes, though, rivalries are manufactured by player matchups, like, say, Wilt-Russell.

Blanks is now the assistant general manager with the Cavaliers. This Sunday, his Cavs host the Lakers, which means the world will be transfixed on the two greatest basketball players on the planet going head-to-head. But guess what? These two dudes like each other. They're friends. Instead of ice-grilling each other before the tipoff, they'll hug.

Still, Blanks says that you'd be naive to think Kobe and LeBron will compete with less emotion because they like each other. Sometimes, he wryly points out, "friends go at each other even harder." Kobe, as we all know and Kupchak reinforces, is the most competitive player of his generation. Blanks says LeBron is no different. In all likelihood, they'll be trying to kill each other -- with a smile on their faces.

So keep that in mind this week when the league's two marquee rivalries take place. Before you scoff when Kendrick Perkins helps Pau Gasol off the floor, or Kobe pats LeBron on the butt when they pass each other on their way to a timeout, check out the play on the court. I dare you to tell me that these dudes are not going at it. The new-millennium NBA is now home to a different animal. The Friendly Rivalry.

Vincent Thomas is an NBA columnist for SLAM Magazine and a contributing commentator for ESPN.