I'll make you a bet.

It's probably not a good idea, since the last bet I made, I lost to Mark Cuban. But I'll make this bet anyway.

	The Mavs fans' cowbell clanging made Chris Webber and the Kings feel right at home in Dallas.

I'll wager that the least-devoted basketball fan in Sacramento has been sitting on the telephone now -- now being 3:30 in the morning -- waiting for three and a half hours to have his say on YAHOO AM Sports talk radio about the positive and negative affects of Scot Pollard's hair on the Sacramento Kings' chances to beat the Los Angeles Lakers in the Western Conference finals, while the most-devoted Lakers fan has not even thought about the Kings once since the Lakers once again embarrassed the San Antonio Spurs last round.

This is not to say that one is wrong and the other is right. It's simply to show the mentality of the basketball fan in each city of what ostensibly is the NBA championship series. It IS suggesting, however, that there is not much to do in Sacramento after slopping the hogs -- I think that's the phrase they used in "Charlotte's Web" -- and so Kings fans naturally would turn to the one thing there is in town.

No, silly, not Keno. Basketball.

It is also suggesting that in Los Angeles, it's difficult to think about anything else when most fans -- at least those celebrity cats in the front row -- are thinking mostly about themselves. I mean, I'd love to know the unspoken Hollywood rule about which celebs get to front-row it at which particular game. Because let's face it, if you are making $20 mil per flick, you can afford tickets to just about any game you want. But is it purely coincidence that Tobey Maguire shows up at the Lakers game the same week that Spidey-Man comes out in the theatres? I don't think so.

(As a sidenote here, I thought the movie Spidey-Man was pretty well done, but I have one gripe. Did anyone besides me notice that when Spidey-Man rescued that baby from the burning building, after the baby had been crisping in there for about 15 minutes, that the baby's blanket was white as pure snow when SM brought it out? I mean, come on Mr. Raimi, let's get the details right. Just put a little soot on the blanket.)

Speaking of details, I also learned this year that Arco Arena, home of the Kings, does not sit in the middle of a corn field, but in the middle of what used to be a rice field, so I stand corrected on that issue. Though I do wonder, if I chose to plant corn there one year, would that then make it a corn field?

	The Kings and I
	The Lakers are 7-2 against the Kings over the last two postseasons, and they can thank Shaq's play at home for a lot of that. O'Neal has averaged over 37 points and exactly 19 rebounds in games in Los Angeles, where the Lakers are 5-0 against the Kings in the last two postseasons. But he has been human at 23 points and just over 15 boards per playoff game in Sacramento. Shaq has also had shooting troubles at ARCO Arena, shooting nearly 14 percent lower on the road against the Kings and shooting just 41.5 percent from the free throw line.
		Home	Road
	PPG	37.6	23.0
	RPG	19.0	15.3
	FG pct.	61.5	47.9
	BPG	4.2	1.3
	Team W-L	5-0	2-2

Those meanderings are neither here nor there, however, when we are talking about Arco, not even arguably the best place to see a game in the NBA. It IS the best place.

I love the juxtapositions of the two towns in this series, because Sacramento has a steep inferiority complex compared to its southern neighbor -- which is about the same as saying China and Taiwan are "neighbors."

This is not me making a blanket statement. My ESPN.com colleague, Scott Howard-Cooper, grew up in and worked for almost his entire career in Los Angeles, then moved to Sacramento to write for the Bee a few years back.

He immediately noticed, and has since written about, the near obsession this California farming community has with Hollywood, and its deep desire to pummel it into submission where it knows best, the basketball court. Or, perhaps, that's the only place it can pummel it into submission.

That's why, from a distance, it was so humorous to watch Phil Jackson tweak the folks from Sacramento a few years back. It was like a practical joke that you could see coming, but instead of stopping it you wanted to see the outcome -- even though you knew what it was going to be. Phil takes verbal jabs, Sacramentonians -- if that's not the correct usage, I'm going with it anyway because I like it -- get livid, their hatred for the arrogance of anything L.A. deepens. Let's just say that after his coaching career is over, Phil and Jeanie will not be the first couple of the Chamber of Commerce.

You'll notice that even before the Kings' defeat of the Dallas Mavericks officially ended -- hey Cubes, didn't we make a double-or-nothing bet on that series? -- Kings fans began chanting, "Beat L.A. Beat L.A." (And folks thought I disrespected the Spurs last week.)

But you may not have failed to notice that when the Lakers sent the Spurs tumbling again, Lakers fans were not chanting, "Beat Sacramento. Beat Sacramento." Granted, it doesn't have the same je ne sais quoi. Plus, judging from those celebrity Jeopardy shows, the folks at the Staples Center would have a difficult time mastering "Beat Sacramento" more than two times in a row. Kind of like rubbing your head and patting your stomach at the same time. Or it is patting your head and rubbing your stomach?

Anyhoo, as I rip through these stereotypes of the opposing cities, then take into account the teams for which they root, I realize it is all a load of crap. Because when you get right down to it, Kings fans should be rooting for the Lakers, and Lakers fans should be rooting for the Kings.

Think about it: Whenever somebody talks about the Lakers, the historical context which that statement evokes is "Showtime," primarily because of the ritzy play of Magic Johnson in the capital of entertainment. And of these two teams, which is more Showtime? You guessed it. The Kings.

We like to think of Shaq bringing the ball downcourt every once in a while, or Air Kobe making a reputation for himself, but really the Kings are the run-and-gun, fast-breaking, fun-to-watch collection of talent that reminds us of Magic leading the break, passing the ball to Worthy on the wing, who either dunks it with his long extended arm, or passing it to Byron Scott, who complains about something before draining a 3 from the wing.

Only now we've got Mike Bibby ... (OK, hold on, another sidenote here. Any of you dimwits in Sacramento who complained early in the season that trading Jason Williams for Mike Bibby was a bad move for the organization, you are forbidden from watching this series. You must write directly to Michael Heisley in Memphis and demand videotapes of Grizzlies games, where you can once again witness your hero throw balls behind his back 43 rows up and then jack a triple with 23 left on the shot clock that bounces long and starts a fast break for an opponent, where your hero is watching it run past him because he is failing to play defense.)

Only now we've got Mike Bibby on the break, he feeds to Hedo, who throws it to a cutting CWebb who throws it down hard before hurting his ankle again and having to get nurtured by Tyra Banks. That is Showtime, Baby.

Now if you want a metaphor for the slow, methodical, patient approach of farming, give me the Triangle offense. In to Shaq, out to Kobe, over to Horry, back to Kobe, in to Shaq, who sticks a 45-pound elbow into the grill of Vlade Divac, who flops around like a 12-pound mackerel as Shaq steps over him and rams the ball through the basket like the rim stole his wife.

This is a very roundabout way of saying: So, you wanna bet?

Frank Hughes, who covers the NBA for the Tacoma (Wash.) News-Tribune, is a regular contributor to ESPN.com.