It was over. Then it wasn't, the Lakers inching back as Rasheed Wallace choked on the floor and Mike Dunleavy squirmed on the bench. The Lakers went on a 15-0 run to tie the score, then amazingly took a four-point lead into the final minute.
Yet nobody quite believed it until -- alley-boom! -- O'Neal's right arm soared high above the basket to catch and throw down a dunk on a foul-line pass from Bryant with 41 seconds remaining.
I can still remember O'Neal's wide-eyed, open-mouthed expression as he ran to the Lakers bench. From that moment forward, it was a look shared by Lakers fans for three consecutive championship seasons.
I had sort of a different look, as my lap had been suddenly occupied by colleague J.A. Adande, who joined many Staples Center fans by literally leaping out of his chair.
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2 Fisher makes Magic go poof.
To completely understand the greatness of Thursday's tying shot with 4.6 seconds remaining in regulation, let's color it in darker shades.
If Fisher had missed it, he would have been ripped up and down, near and Farmar.
How could he take that shot after missing all five of his previous three-point attempts? How come he didn't pass the ball to the game's greatest closer? How could such a team player be such a ball hog?
Fisher surely knew he was putting his entire Lakers legacy on the line with that shot.
The greatness here is that he took it anyway.
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1 The baby hook.
The best. Of course. You knew it before you read it.
Magic Johnson's hook shot -- dubbed "the baby hook" by Chick Hearn -- sank with two seconds remaining to beat the Boston Celtics in Game 4 of the 1987 Finals.
It is No. 1 for several reasons that only Lakers fans will understand.
First, it gave the Lakers a three-games-to-one series lead that led to a rare title against the hated Celtics.
Second, it was made over the raised arms of hated villains Kevin McHale, Robert Parish and Larry Bird.
Third, it occurred in the hated Boston Garden.
Fourth, he had the nerve to ignore a wide-open Kareem Abdul-Jabbar standing by the basket.
On that night, Magic Johnson was infused with the same stuff that has filled the likes of every Laker who has dared to shoulder basketball's greatest tradition.
I'm not sure what it's called, only that it's purple and gold and eternal.
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bill.plaschke@latimes.com
You can follow Plaschke on Twitter at twitter.com/plaschke.
