Keving Ding, OC Register

Phil Jackson is now a grandfather of three, and that’s not even counting Andrew Bynum and Jordan Farmar. Jackson, 62, has reached a far point on life’s grid where he is what he is – everything new only tweaking how things look, not changing how they are. Should that NBA-record 10th coaching championship come in the near future, it will be accoutrement, not validation.

We have an idea by now of who this man is: established in principles, very much younger in spirit than bones, still so tantalized by new challenges brought on by Kobe Bryant and the daily crossword puzzle alike. Jackson is devoted foremost to honoring himself, even as he appreciates his life’s opportunities to spread non-gospel from a modern-day basketball-themed pulpit.

Jackson’s has been a spiritual journey of lessons flowed rather than forced, even if there’s no way Siddhartha would’ve wasted his time theorizing about calling timeouts in between an opponent’s two foul shots to break the guy’s rhythm. Jackson wrote a book in 1975, back when he played only as well as most in the NBA but pondered real life far more than them all. The book, called “Maverick,” is about Jackson trying to find what is right for himself, the league and the world around him.

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