Ex Marks His Future With Team

SALT LAKE CITY — One minute, 57 seconds.

The time it takes to brush your teeth. The time it takes to get the mail.

The time it would take to walk over to Kobe Bryant at the Delta Center, tap him on the shoulder and say, “You’re starting.”

That should be Del Harris’ call tonight after point guard Nick Van Exel admitted he feels he is just biding time in a Laker uniform.

One minute, 57 seconds.

That is how long Van Exel lasted Saturday before Harris pulled him out of the game for ignoring him.

That is how long Van Exel will probably last in Los Angeles once this season ends, which could be tonight in Game 5 of the playoffs against the Utah Jazz.

The time it takes to find a “Matlock” rerun. The time it takes to eat an Oreo.

So why pretend any longer? Why should Harris continue to rest his fate with a floor leader who does not see the same floor?

Why not find out if everybody’s favorite little brother can do it?

To win this series, the Lakers must win twice in two games in an arena where the Jazz has lost only twice in the last 42 games.

They need a spark. They need something fresh. With one shrug, Van Exel reveals he no longer represents either.

If Harris is going to be next year’s coach--and he deserves at least one season with Shaquille O’Neal sound enough to give him home-court advantage--then perhaps it is time for next year’s point guard.

If he feels he needs Van Exel to save his job, then this is not a job worth saving.

Say this much for kid Bryant, who brings out the best in teammates despite 13 turnovers and only nine assists in the playoffs.

“I’m having a blast,” he said. “This whole thing is like a dream.”

There. That is what the Lakers need. Somebody who thinks like that. Van Exel no longer does.

This is not about anger. This is not about remorse.

Neither quality was evident in Van Exel’s distant stare Sunday afternoon as he sat on a chair in a steamy intramural-looking gym.

He had barked about not discussing the nationally televised confrontation between him and Harris early in Saturday’s embarrassing loss.

The media crowd dissipated, and Van Exel finished his ice cream bar and suddenly it was like the most natural thing in the world. Like a burden coming off his shoulders.

To admit that he thought he was history.

“I told my boys . . . “ he said, and here it all came.

The part about thinking he was not coming back. The part about wondering whether he can excel in this offense. The part about basketball being a business.

He used to race up and down with enough joy to mask the demons, but on this day there was only resignation.

He admitted that O’Neal was his buddy. He shrugged when asked whether O’Neal would put up a fight to keep him from being traded.

It was a shrug that said O’Neal would be fighting that fight alone.

Van Exel acted as if he were already gone, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.

“I understand how people are,” he said.

He could have been referring to Harris. We’ll never know, because neither man would discuss Saturday’s incident in detail.

Van Exel said he and Harris “were OK,” but would say nothing more.

Harris said that he put Van Exel back into the game should prove there were no hard feelings, but would say nothing more.

Faced with such an ugly incident at such a crucial time, many other coaches and their players would have spun it.

They would have connived to turn the argument into a harmless misunderstanding. Hugged for the media. Swallowed hard.

“We’re putting it behind us,” they would have said between playful jabs at the podium.

Harris and Van Exel did not put it behind them, yet another sign that one of them will have to move forward without the other.

Van Exel said it will be him. I agree it should be him, inasmuch as he’s no longer contributing enough good stuff to outweigh the dumb stuff.

Like, uh, waving off your coach during the pivotal game of a playoff series with the second-best team in basketball.

Which brings this story back to Bryant, who had just finished mugging for a TNT commercial Sunday when he was asked about his turnovers, many resulting from attempts to create flashy plays.

If he became the starting point guard, can he lose the Meadowlark Lemon stuff?

“In order to get better, you have to make mistakes,” he said. “With my style of play, that’s just the way it is.

“But I am learning. I am getting better. I am used to this now.”

So it is time for us to get used to him.

One minute, 57 seconds.

The time it takes to make a phone call to another team, offering a decent point guard for a decent power forward.

The time it will take a point guard to pack his bags.

Especially a point guard with a head start.