Despite injuries to their three biggest names, the Los Angeles Lakers have raced to a 7–2 start, sitting second in the Western Conference and looking every bit like a legitimate title contender. The most significant absence has been LeBron James, who has yet to play due to a sciatica issue, but the team delivered an encouraging update Thursday: he’s been cleared for basketball activities and will begin ramping up toward 5-on-5 work, with a re-evaluation slated in 1–2 weeks to assess how his body responds. Meanwhile, beyond James sitting out all nine games, Luka Dončić missed four with a lower-leg injury and Austin Reaves sat the last two with groin soreness; when available, both have been electric in James’ stead—Dončić putting up an eye-popping 40.0 points, 11.0 rebounds, and 9.2 assists per game, and Reaves contributing 31.1 points and 9.3 assists per game.

InstaBad Magazine sees the story behind the stars—and in Los Angeles, the story runs deeper than two marquee names. While the headlines fixate on the glamour of top-shelf shot-making, the Lakers’ engine is humming because the rest of the roster is playing grown-man basketball. Rui Hachimura has become the connective tissue of this group: big enough to soak up contact, quick enough to toggle between wings, and calm enough to hit those rhythm mid-range looks that settle games in the second and fourth quarters. He screens, he slips, he relocates—nothing flashy, just winning geometry that gives this offense clean angles.

Then there’s the trilogy of new blood paying immediate dividends. Deandre Ayton looks comfortable and purposeful as the starting five, carving out dependable offense with soft-touch jump hooks and put-backs while vacuuming the glass—17.5 points and 8.4 rebounds a night is more than a line; it’s a stabilizer. He occupies the dunker spot with intent, sprints into early seals, and gives the ball-handlers something reliable at the rim when actions stall. Jake LaRavia has stepped in as a pace-friendly spacer off the bench. He doesn’t clog the lane, he doesn’t dribble into traffic—he simply shoots when he’s open, keeps the ball hot when he’s not, and quietly turns cramped possessions into three easy points. And Marcus Smart, the heart-rate monitor of this team, sharpens the perimeter with deflections, charges, and the kind of vocal guidance that cleans up the details. On offense he’s the second-side organizer—another live dribble to calm a broken possession when Austin Reaves or Luka Dončić sit, another entry passer who hits Ayton on time, another mind that understands endgame calculus.

Here’s what we love most from the bird’s-eye view: even with lineup volatility—star absences, minute restrictions, new combinations—the Lakers are cooking. Sixth in offensive rating is not an accident; it’s the residue of structure. They’re getting to their first action early, triggering the second action on time, and refusing to settle for the contested long two that used to haunt them. Meanwhile, the defense has hovered around league average despite personnel limitations. That’s culture as much as tactics: close the air on shooters, tag from the top, keep two on the glass, live with smart contests. Coach JJ Redick deserves his flowers here. He’s not just drawing pretty ATOs; he’s sequencing rotations so that the lineups feel intentional—shooting next to slashers, size behind gambles, and decision-makers sprinkled at all times.

Now comes the finesse chapter: reintroducing a future Hall of Famer without dulling the new edges this group has earned. LeBron James has a preferred rhythm—strong-side initiations, early post touches, empty-corner pick-and-rolls where he can read the low man like a children’s book. Redick’s task isn’t to reinvent LeBron; it’s to thread his gravity through what’s already working. Expect more “horns delay” into a LeBron elbow touch, more Spain actions where Ayton’s rim-run pulls a second defender and LaRavia’s spacing punishes the help. Expect Hachimura to continue as the pressure valve, ghosting screens and attacking bent coverage. Expect Smart to toggle between point-of-attack irritant and late-clock steward.

And yes—everyone will have to give a little to make the math sing. James, Dončić, and Reaves can all run an offense; the trick is deciding who runs it when. The smart money says Reaves cedes the most on-ball reps, shifting into an elite connector role: early push-ahead passes, second-side drives, catch-and-shoot threes, and that sneaky cut behind ball-watchers when LeBron commands a crowd. Dončić still gets his orchestral quarters—staggered so that at least one primary engine is on the floor at all times—while James handles the tempo in closing time, where his screen-reading turns one-possession games into checkmate.

The best version of this team keeps Ayton’s confidence high with purposeful touches (especially after stops), protects LaRavia by pairing him with a stopper, and unleashes Hachimura as the matchup hunter in small-small screens. It leans into Smart’s chaos creation on defense while trusting his “don’t lose the possession” instincts on offense. It treats transition like a tax refund—free money—by running wide lanes and rewarding the big who rim-runs. And it respects the simple truth of modern basketball: you score not by tricking the shot clock, but by earning great shots early and refusing bad ones late.

Bottom line from our vantage: this start is no mirage. The Lakers have built a workable identity—structured offense, accountable defense, and role players who know exactly why they’re on the floor. Bringing LeBron back adds gravity, IQ, and playoff certainty. It also adds the challenge of balance. If Redick keeps the ball hopping, staggers the stars, and preserves the spacing that’s fed Ayton and empowered LaRavia, L.A. won’t just welcome a legend back—they’ll weaponize him. And that’s how a promising October becomes a dangerous May.