By GREGG PATTON, The Press-Enterprise

Critics will say the Los Angeles Lakers didn't learn anything in their latest misadventure in Houston.
That's not true at all. They learned that one competitive half doesn't get the job done, either.
And so it has come to this -- a Game 7 Sunday against Houston, the cost of failing to take the Rockets seriously. Again.

Sunday the Los Angeles Lakers got torched by Houston.
Then they got torched in the court of public opinion.
Tuesday night, they took the first step back toward respectability, running the Rockets off of Upset Road with a never-in-doubt 118-78 victory.
As most expected, the Lakers regained control of the Western Conference semifinals, 3-2.

The Lakers put their uniforms on and played a basketball game Sunday, but if they have a killer instinct, it took an earlier plane home to Los Angeles.
This wasn't their proudest moment, Game 4 at the Toyota Center, a humbling, lopsided loss to Houston and their worst performance in a postseason game since the painful, embarrassing end to the 2008 season in Boston 11 months ago.

The notion that you are innocent until proven guilty is one of the founding principles of this country.
Baseball, of course, has managed to flip the premise on its head.

Toughness.
It's a word that tends to buzz around the Lakers like an annoying sand fly, landing on them from time to time, as if "toughness" is the cure-all for every team ill.
Lose to Boston in the NBA Finals? They couldn't handle the Celtics' physical big men.
Lose big leads against Utah in the postseason? They went soft.

It took only one night for the Lakers to find out an important truth about Houston.
The postseason Rockets aren't the regular-season Rockets.

Trevor Ariza was the forgotten injured Los Angeles Laker when the postseason began last year.

There were 45,050 empty seats at Angel Stadium on Thursday, and many, many more empty hearts throughout the oft-insulated world of baseball.
Tragedy around a place like this always catches us by surprise. Strong, vibrant 22-year-old athletes don't die.

The Los Angeles Dodgers and Angels faced off in an exhibition tune-up Thursday night, a pair of baseball big dogs expected to rule their respective divisions over the next six months.
Uh-oh.
"Favored to win." Famous first words. I'm not sure there's a sport less predictable than baseball, unless you count rock-paper-scissors.

Baseball's exhibition season began last week, notably short one phone call from Denver.
It usually sounded something like this:
Mom: "Gregg?"
Me: "Hi, mom."
Mom: "Well, hot dog! The Rocks are playing again! Can you find a schedule for me?"