For the past week, it's been one story, radio-talk-show and Internet report after the next describing Jim Buss as a power-hungry buffoon seemingly intent on destroying the Lakers.

Most everyone has had their say, almost all speaking from authority, and yet no one was talking to Jim Buss.

It was his fault, of course, for not making himself available earlier, but he did so Friday.

"I don't consider myself a recluse or anything like that," he says. "But this is my dad's team. I like what we're doing as a group — my dad, Mitch Kupchak and myself — and especially when we win championships, but I work for my dad and that's who I like to answer to, and who I like to impress."

Every day a father's day, he says. "I look at my dad and if he's happy, I'm happy."

Not too many happy campers in Lakers Land these days, so much criticism that shortly before sitting down, he put a call into new Coach Mike Brown to apologize.

"I'm surprised by the reaction to Mike's hiring," he says. "I wish people heard him speak. Let him show you what he showed us.

"I wanted him to know they are picking on me, which explains why they are picking on him. But it's a reflection on me, not him. He hasn't done anything wrong."

As for Buss, he knows he's being portrayed "as some Looney Tune running down the streets." But he doesn't get it, which is why he wants to talk, willing to answer any question, however long it takes.

So for the next 2½ hours he talks about Kobe Bryant, his hopes of retaining Phil Jackson, Rudy Tomjanovich, Carmelo Anthony-for-Andrew Bynum and next year's roster.

But let's begin with the picture of Jerry Buss' No. 2 son, a 51-year-old man wearing a baseball cap atop long blond hair as if the rich kid never grew up with any interest in appearing respectable or responsible.

How can anyone take this guy seriously?

"I go back and forth with the long hair; the receding hairline, I don't know how to wear it — never have," he says, while laughing and removing his hat to show a wild mop in full retreat. "Always had a problem with my hair — what do I do with this?"

By the looks of it, fixing the Lakers will be much easier, but a mistake has already been made.

"Looking back on it, we should have contacted Kobe," Buss says. "Kobe said it was management's job to pick a coach. He just said, 'Defense first.' That's what we were doing, but we should have reached out to him."

How will Kobe take to Brown?

"The way Mike impressed the three of us, I would think Kobe would be impressed as well," he says. "Mike is a workaholic and Kobe is the workaholic."

If Brown couldn't control LeBron James on offense, how is he going to do so with Kobe?

"I've seen Kobe go off the place a few times, but I'm sure the coach will know how to handle it," Buss says. "My dad loves Kobe and so do I; we think he has a lot left. And I know Mike has some ideas on how to elongate Kobe's career."

Imagine the paper boy growing up to become publisher, or the next-door nerd starting a social network empire from his basement.

If it weren't so serious, you know, and the free world weren't at stake, the hiring of Mike Brown as Lakers coach might be more lovingly embraced, if only for the sheer preposterousness of the premise.

Born March 5, 1970, in Columbus Ohio … Son of a military man … attended high school in Germany … played junior college in Mesa, Ariz. … transferred to University of San Diego … averaged 7.6 points per game as a senior…. coach said of him: "fairly skilled, and I don't mean that in a bad way."… earned summer internship for Denver Nuggets … worked way up ladder … ended up coaching LeBron James in Cleveland … then became the scapegoat … and then got fired … went on to work at ESPN … and now is put in X-and-O charge of the Tiffany of sporting franchises.

"I did talk to him the other day," said Geoff Probst, Brown's teammate and roommate at USD. "I said, 'You do realize this is the Lakers? This is The Show. You're going to be standing next to Jack Nicholson.' He said, 'I'm ready.'"

Ready or not …

Probst and Brown, backcourt mates for the San Diego Toreros, lived an insular, marginalized existence. They stayed up late talking, mostly about the West Coast Conference.

It was the early 1990s. The primary focus was, "Can we beat Pepperdine?"

Asked what he remembered most about Brown, Probst said, "He would always snore at night."

Yet, there was something different about Brown, who must have thought Robert Browning's line about man's reach exceeding his grasp was written for him.

Brown was a good player … nothing special. He played in 57 games, started 35, the epitome of the working man's guard. "Just a grinder," Ted Gosen, the school's associate athletic director for media relations, recalled.

OK, that's nice, but not even Horatio Alger would have made the literary leap from "hard worker" to future coach of the Lakers.

"I would have said you're crazy," Probst said of the prospect. "But even saying that.…"

Brown didn't just play basketball, he was obsessed. Probst remembers Brown working out late at night, by himself, in the gym.

He would study film in search of some competitive advantage.

"Defense was definitely his forte," Probst said.

Brown seemed impervious to burnout and devoid of ordinary ambitions. He peppered and pestered Hank Egan, his coach at San Diego, about somehow — anyhow — working his way into the NBA.

"This is the story about a guy who wanted to do something and was willing to pay the price," Egan said.

Egan was connected with Bernie Bickerstaff, general manager of the Denver Nuggets and — small world, isn't it? — a former USD player and coach.

In January of 1992, during a stopover in Denver, Egan asked Bickerstaff whether he would consider Brown for an internship.