Monson: Go ahead, tell D-Will the Jazz can't beat Lakers

This whole Jazz-Lakers thing is an ideal set-up for Deron Williams.
    He loves it, lives for it, thrives on it.
    Going up against the NBA's marquee franchise, against MVP Kobe Bryant, who Williams says is the best player on the planet, and his Lakers, who Williams says are "one of the best teams in the world, playing the best basketball in the league."
    All standing directly in the path now of the poor, poor, pitiable Jazz.
    Perfect.
    It's the same steeply ascending scenario Williams has drummed up in his mind in nearly every challenge he has ever faced. The Jazz point guard is one of those stubborn competitive contrarians who finds in-his-face disbelief in front of every windmill, around every bend, atop every mountain.
    What was the first thing he said after his bombs in Game 6 greatly aided the Jazz in their lopsided win over the Rockets to clinch that first-round playoff series?
    "You guys said we couldn't shoot threes, so . . . I had to prove you wrong."
    That's what he said.
    He had to prove something, same as it ever was. After the Jazz made just 2 of 23 three-pointers over the previous two games, Williams went out and dropped 6 of 9 from beyond the arc, and the Jazz collectively hit 10 of 22, boosting them to the win.
    Just the way Williams thought nobody thought they could.
    Just like nobody thinks they can beat the Lakers.
    Just like Williams thinks nobody thinks they can beat the Lakers.
    "We're going to have fun in this series," he says. "We're going to enjoy it. Kobe's one of the most competitive guys I've ever been around. He gets the fire going."
    In Williams, the fire rages already.
    He has no clue why. He can't psychoanalyze himself. But he suspects his contentious aggressiveness stems from a mix of genetics and some kind of general exposure to environmental doubt.
    "I had a lot of doubters around me when I was younger," he says. "I couldn't even get on a good AAU team I hate to get beat. I hate to lose. Even in the things I'm not that good at, I hate losing. Some people have that, some don't."
    Williams does, in industrial-drum-sized doses.
    "That's just the way he's wired," says Kyle Korver. "It doesn't matter whether it's basketball or golf or ping pong. The guy's just super competitive. The majority of the star players don't practice very much. They save themselves for games. But Deron goes at it 100 miles per hour all the time. He goes at guys in practice every day. Most players don't have that mind-set. It's innate."
    Korver, who has a measure of the same drive, at reduced amounts, says turbo-competitiveness is a blessing and a curse: "You can become consumed by it. It can be a bad thing. After a while, it can wear you out."
    "I still feel like I need to prove people wrong," Williams says. "It fuels me. I want to be the best. I want to win a championship. That's what drives me."
    He adds that frustration sometimes erupts within him when teammates don't display the same intense push, but he feels as though his example is one for them to follow.
    "I let my play do the talking," he says.
    In the third quarter on Friday night, when the Jazz already had blown a 19-point lead, Williams says he felt impressed to take matters into his own hands, hitting four three-pointers in that period, jacking the Jazz's lead back to double-digits.
    "I wasn't looking to score a lot in the first half," he says. "I tried to get my teammates involved. At the start of the third, it scared me a little bit. I took it upon myself to get the lead back up."
    His team came with, also hitting shots, leading to a 22-point victory.
    "He got on a roll there," says Jerry Sloan. "He was excited, pretty animated about playing the game. He has tremendous talent. . . . I don't know where this team would be without him."
    It wouldn't be where it is.
    And it would be without the semi-maladjusted leadership of a budding star, a rare embodiment of skill and nastiness mixed with a shovelful of confidence and a dash of insecurity, a baller who is constantly on the lookout for disrespect and disbelief, concocted or otherwise, from whomever and wherever.
    Fitting for a proud man whose name has been mispronounced for 23 years.
    Is it Der-ON or DER-on? What is it?
    Under the bright lights against the Lakers, Williams wants to clear up any confusion.
    But, mostly, he says he wants a shot at a title.
    "I don't care if I score or don't score," he says. "I just want to win."
    Despite a youthful ragged edge to Williams off the court, on it, he is remarkably mature. He understands the near and far reaches of competition and what is required to properly fill in all the gaps. Watch his play, and listen to and read his comments during the coming series with the Lakers and take note of how often his observations about what's happening are spot on.
    Wedged in with all the competitive anger, the need for proving people wrong, and the physical talent, is a bright basketball mind, as well as a roguish sort of street cred that almost requires teammates to fall in line behind him. But it is another characteristic that brings it all together: contagious enthusiasm.
    "That's part of my job, to get my teammates pumped up and keep them pumped up the whole game," he says. "We've just got to have a lot of energy and bring it every night. That's what we need if we're going to beat the Lakers."
    Even though, especially because, he already knows that nobody thinks they will.
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    * GORDON MONSON hosts "The Big Show" weekdays from 3-7 p.m. on 1280 AM The Zone. He can be reached at gmonson@sltrib.com.