The Warriors didn't benefit materially, compiling back-to-back 34-win efforts. In that they were the team's 11th and 12th consecutive seasons of failing to reach the playoffs, they generated collateral criticism of coach Mike Montgomery, of No. 3 pick in the draft Mike Dunleavy, of Zarko Cabarkapa (if only because his name was so fun to say), of Thunder the mascot (hey, as long as we're piling on).

It was easy to drag Fisher into the gripe fest as well. Sure, he'd won three rings with the Lakers , but so had about 20 other guys not named Kobe or Shaq. He was widely regarded as a classy individual, but if civility were so important, John Gielgud would be in the Basketball Hall of Fame.

What we knew is that Fisher was brought here to great fanfare and failed to make a difference. Then he was gone, traded to Utah. He was a solid contributor on a good-but-not-great Jazz team and became something of a local hero when he returned from his sick daughter's hospital room to help eliminate the Warriors from the 2007 playoffs.

Afterward, he asked for his release so he could move to a bigger city with better treatment options for his daughter. It was no shock that he wound up back with the Lakers .

It's safe to say that as this season dawned, Fisher had inspired the respect of many, the ire of some, and the reputation as the NBA's equivalent of an extra a guy filling out the scene while others recited the most important lines. Not saying it was fair. But it was safe.

That appraisal grew safer by the minute in Game 4 of the NBA Finals on Thursday. The Orlando Magic raced to a big lead. The Lakers fought back in the second half. Fisher missed his first five 3-point shots and at times had trouble keeping up on defense.

Then came a couple huge moments when it became apparent some of us should have considered his body of work more thoroughly than we did.

With 10.4 seconds left in the fourth quarter, the Lakers inbounded the ball in their backcourt, trailing the Magic 87-84. A nice bit of tic-tac-toe passing put the ball in Fisher's hands at midcourt. He eased up to the 3-point line, rose above a stunningly passive Jameer Nelson and canned the shot that sent the game into overtime.

There he drained the tie-breaking 3-pointer with 31.3 seconds to play. He could claim his fourth ring as early as tonight, when the Lakers and Magic meet in Game 5.

It is safe to say there is subtlety to Fisher's game that is easily overlooked. He may not change the landscape of a team, but he can embellish it.

He has the ability to stare a big moment in the eye and become no, not something he isn't, but precisely who he is. (The dynamic in reverse: Orlando center Dwight Howard doinked two free throws with 11.1 seconds to play in regulation, setting the stage for Fisher's heroics.)

Championship teams need great players, but they also need guys like Fisher. This will likely be the fourth Lakers team to have known the privilege. The rest of us? We can safely say we barely knew him.

A quick check of his jewelry box reveals: Our loss, not his.

Contact Gary Peterson at gpeterson@bayareanewsgroup.com