You know what this Phil Jackson thing really is, don't you? This is Tyson-Holyfield III.
In the next few hours, you'll read and hear and see things about redemption, forgiveness, righting a wrong, the lure of big money and bright lights, and a hundred other yada-yada-yadas that help fill the insatiable beast that is the 21st-century media donkey stampede.
But what it really is, in an odd sort of way, is Tyson-Holyfield Again the fight that never happened because Evander Holyfield ran out of ears and Mike Tyson ran out of heart.
You see, Phil Jackson doesn't really need this gig, unless he actually does. He surely doesn't need the Lakers, unless he can't help himself. And he doesn't need the headache of coaching Kobe Bryant, unless there is some sort of screwball pathology involved here that Zen doesn't begin to address.
And we're going with options B.
But why the seemingly tortured historical analogy? Simple. Because this is where Tyson took his career old, bad ground, replowed and turned more toxic.
This is the first time Jackson has taken a fairly hopeless team with talent, chemistry and cap shortcomings and tried to make it whole. But Jackson is nobody's blood clot; he can do things to make a team better. We know that because he has done it throughout his coaching career, going back to the Albany Patroons.
This is him reliving a nightmare, even after he tries to minimize the issues that drove him to higher ground.
Fact is, Bryant won the power struggle for Jerry Buss' short-attention-span love. Bryant drove Jackson to Montana, whether he was pushed or walked on his own. That was Jackson's lowest moment as a coach, period, full stop, no equivocations allowed.
Just as Tyson's lowest moment was his twin mouthfuls of Holyfield's head. Oh, losing to Buster Douglas was not good news, and as it turned out he won only one more fight against a significantly regarded fighter in his career, but it was the Holyfield fight that essentially wrecked his shot at returning to glory.
This rehiring is not that bad yet. But it could be, because the Lakers do nothing in a small way. When they win, they are over-the-top winners. And when they go bad, well, hey, you saw it.
And now he's going back to a different, less functional, almost paralytic team split in 12 11 portions, plus Bryant's.
How, exactly, is this a good idea for Jackson, returning to the scene of the tire fire? I mean, other than the three years and $30M?
True, every dynamic is different, and history is not an exact template, and several other disclaimers that can usually be found on the side of a can of industrial solvent.
But here's another useful item for you. Jackson is now the 13th coach in NBA history to give his old team a new try. And only two of the previous 12 did anything meaningful the second time around.
This list excludes interim specialists such as Bill Bertka and Bob Kloppenburg, but for those men not hired merely as fill-ins, here's what you have:
Fuzzy Levane, St. Louis (1962), 20-40
Dick Motta, Dallas (1994-96), 62-102
Dan Issel, Denver (1999-2002), 84-106
Gene Shue, L.A. Clippers (1987-89), 27-93
John Kundla, Minneapolis Lakers (1958-59), 43-62
Red Holzman, New York (1978-82), 147-167
Cotton Fitzsimmons, Phoenix (1988-92), 217-111
Fitzsimmons (again, this time 1996), 27-30
Phil Johnson, Sacramento (1984-86), 81-120
Jerry Reynolds, Sacramento (1988-89), 41-93
Tom Nissalke, San Antonio (ABA, 1973-75), 62-49
Lenny Wilkens, Seattle (1977-85), 357-277
Gene Shue, Washington (1980-86), 197-248
Of that group, only Wilkens won an NBA title, and in fairness, his first term in Seattle was as a player-coach, when he knew about one-third what he knew the second time. Fitzsimmons got Phoenix to the 1990 Western Conference final.
And that was it. Everyone else came back because the boss didn't have a better idea and just wanted to tap dance until one came along. This is the Jackson hire all over again, with an asterisk.
This gets the Lakers' attention again, after a year in which they finished behind the Clippers and tied with the Warriors. This makes them a semimorbid curiosity, one that promises much, both good and bad.
It's an attention-getter, and a fabulous one. And maybe it even works out, the way a third Tyson-Holyfield fight might have had one of the two fighters not gone completely off his nut.
But whatever happens at this point, this much must be said. Phil Jackson does not get to leave again saying he was done in by the Lakers' mondo-bizarro power structure. This time, he asked for it.
Just the way Holyfield would have asked for it had he signed on for another Tyson fight. After all, as the adage goes, fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, you'd better get the money up front.
Ray Ratto is a columnist with the San Francisco Chronicle and a regular contributor to ESPN.com