Wobbly Bryant shows he’s more than willing to share

After a decade of watching Kobe Bryant on a basketball court, I thought I had seen it all.

I’ve watched him act surreal. I’ve watched him act supernatural. I’ve watched him act scatterbrained. I’ve watched him act selfish.

But, three games into his rushed return this fall, I’m watching what might be Kobe Bryant’s most eye-popping performance of all.

I’m watching him act human.

Tuesday night, first quarter against the Minnesota Timberwolves, lights down, stars out, crowd oohing.

Kobe throwing up an off-balance air ball.

Kobe throwing up a layup with his feet seemingly stuck to the hardwood.

Kobe trying to make a move on overmatched Trenton Hassell but stumbling and knocking the rock out of bounds.

“It’s the new ball!” shout some fans. “It’s the new ball!”

No, it’s the new Kobe.

Trying to come back on a surgically repaired right knee that clearly isn’t ready.

Working though training camp kinks amid regular-season expectations.

Undergoing what should be a private rehabilitation under national scrutiny.

Unafraid to damage his reputation or scoring average.

Losing himself in the team.

“Maybe a few years ago, I might have looked at things different,” Bryant said this week after practice. “But it’s not about me. It’s about us.”

He’s said this before. He’s never shown it like he’s showing it now.

Can you imagine one of the NBA’s highest-flying players unafraid to play on a knee still so weak, that last week one of his dunk attempts was blocked by the rim?

“Yeah, man, that stunk, but sometimes you just have to laugh at yourself,” he said about the play against Seattle. “My teammates are still giving me grief about that one.”

Can you imagine one of the NBA’s quickest players unashamed to play on reflexes so rusty, a drive to the basket can look like a run through quicksand?

“Hey, I’m just glad when I can turn the corner,” he said.

How about one of the NBA’s proudest players attempting a comeback on legs so uncertain, after two games, his league-leading 35-point scoring average of last season had been nearly cut in half?

“Going from 35 points to, like 15 points? That’s tough,” Bryant said. “I know a lot of guys wouldn’t want to deal with that. But like I said, this is not about me.”

Bryant knows the young Lakers are better with him on the court, even as their waiter or busboy.

“I’m taking great pride in helping us pick apart a defense, helping us grow as a team,” he said.

Bryant knows that one of his passes (21 assists in three games), one of his double-team drawing drives, one of his looks, is worth every cringe.

“Right before the season, I received an e-mail from my high school coach,” he said. “Just go out there and do what you do. Go out there and win.”

Bryant has always loved to win.

We thought we saw it during all those times when he carried the team on his giant back.

We’re seeing it even more now, when he is carrying them on his wobbly legs.

One numeral no longer dominates the back of his jersey. Two numerals now share it.

On the court, voluntarily putting himself in a position where he is less than perfect, he is showing that ego can also share.

His coach, Phil Jackson, openly admits he’s not close to being ready.

“He has quite a ways to go before playing the kind of basketball we’re used to seeing out there,” he said.

The lack of his familiar athleticism speaks for itself, with Bryant pulling up on fast breaks to pass, and stopping short on drives to shoot.

“He doesn’t have all of his stuff back,” Jackson said.

Yet Bryant is back anyway, only with new stuff, cool stuff, sometimes even better stuff.

One three-possession sequence in the third quarter of the Lakers’ 95-88 victory over the Timberwolves went like this:

Bryant rushes up to cheer Andrew Bynum and Luke Walton after their second effort leads to a basket.

Bryant throws a perfect bounce pass to Bynum for a basket.

Bryant throws another perfect pass to Walton for a basket.

Of course, as it has often happened during this first week of the season, Bryant’s heroics were followed by his humanity.

Moments after that previous sequence, he was charging past Marko Jaric on a fast break, one on one ... and he couldn’t finish. Jaric was able to stay close enough to foul him, which led to two free throws, but still.

How many prideful NBA players in his position would show up without even wearing a knee brace to prove to everyone that they are playing hurt?

“I don’t need a brace, and I don’t need to make people think I’m in pain,” he said. “I just need to play.”

If Bryant wanted, he could hire nine former NBA players to run up and down with him at the Toyota Center for a couple of weeks until he is in better shape.

Heck, Bryant could always do what another Laker once did, and just refuse to take the court if there was any chance of physical embarrassment.

Yep, that was Shaquille O’Neal. And, yeah, those 12 games he missed after toe surgery at the start of the 2002 season eventually cost them a fourth consecutive championship.

The other night against Seattle, after falling down on another shaky layup, Bryant jokingly continued his rehabilitation by performing several push-ups on the court.

A proud player laughed at himself. A charmed city cheered.

Bill Plaschke can be reached at [email protected]. To read previous columns by Plaschke, go to latimes.com/plaschke.