THIS MOMENT WAS FOR THEM.

Byline: KEVIN MODESTI

PHILADELPHIA - A year ago, they celebrated at a party house called Staples Center, among family, among friends, among Lakers fans. The location fit the occasion as snugly as a championship ring.

They had brought the 2000 NBA title trophy home to Los Angeles, a city that hadn't won a pro title in in any sport for 12 years.

This time was different.

Friday night, the Lakers celebrated their championship repeat on somebody else's floor, amid the enemy, amid boos. And, again, it felt right.

The 2001 title was for nobody but them, the 15 players and five coaches who endured a stormy winter and emerged with one of the league's more remarkable title seasons.

It was proper that they enjoyed the first head-spinning moments after the final buzzer alone with each other - as alone as they could be in the middle of 20,000 Philadelphians and a hovering flock of television cameras.

``I hope we clinch here tonight,'' forward Robert Horry had said as he sat at his locker-room cubicle before the game. ``We've been through so much, I think we deserve to share the love with our teammates.''

So they did.

When the last seconds ticked away on the Lakers 108-68 victory over the Philadelphia 76ers at the First Union Center to complete a 4-1 NBA Finals, the winners on the court and the winners on the bench surged together at midcourt.

Coach Phil Jackson and Shaquille O'Neal hugged at the center of a purple-and-gold mosh pit. Kobe Bryant grabbed the game ball away from the 76ers player and ran over to join the dance.

Players' families spilled past the ropes surrounding the court. O'Neal embraced his dad. Horry engulfed his mom.

Under a canopy of boom microphones, a few 76ers paid their respects to the Lakers. Matt Geiger and Dikembe Mutombo, who had gone elbow to elbow with O'Neal for a week and a half, now went cheek to cheek with him.

The big difference, last year to this, was the noise.

In 2000, it was an ``MVP'' chant for O'Neal, and ``We Are the Champions'' and ``I Love L.A.'' on the loudspeakers.

In 2001, it was a ``let's go Sixers'' chant, and the persistent white noise of boos.

The NBA decided not to present the Larry O'Brien Trophy on a stage at midcourt, as it usually does, because it feared the notoriously hardened Philadelphia fans would spoil the scene. The ceremony took place in a room beneath the stands. Good thinking.

As Lakers players cavorted on the court, looking into the stands for happy faces, Rick Fox held up two index fingers in a double No. 1 sign. A front-row 76ers fan held up two fingers in return - two middle fingers.

Somebody in the upper stands threw a rubber ball onto the floor during a timeout in the game's final minute. The PA announcer warned the crowd. Allen Iverson, the 76ers' star, told the fans to cut that out in his own special way, with a throat-cutting gesture.

One Laker, Derek Fisher, chased down Iverson in a hallway later and hugged him, congratulating the league MVP on a brave effort.

Iverson and the 76ers put up a good fight again, outplaying the Lakers in the first half, only to watch L.A. throw in one 3-point shot after another and take a lead.

The Lakers never trailed in the second half but couldn't bury the 76ers, either.

With less than four minutes on the clock and the Lakers ahead by 11, Tyronn Lue (a towel around his neck), Devean George (still in his full warmup suit) and Isaiah Rider (in street clothes) stood arm-in-arm-in-arm in front of the bench. It was almost party time.

At the 76ers' end, coach Larry Brown got ready to clear his bench, believing the game was lost.

Immediately, the lead shrank to seven. Both teams' subs sat down.

``That was a tense fourth quarter,'' Jackson said later. ``They made us work for it.''

The celebration finally began with seven seconds on the scoreboard. Fox tried to throw a lob pass to O'Neal. The pass found the basket instead for three points. Magical.

In the locker room, Jackson was joined by his five children, his brother Joe and his cousin Peter.

Players trickled in from the trophy presentation down the hall. Bryant sported a purple leather jacket emblazoned with ``Lakers - 2001 NBA Champions.''

O'Neal was the last to enter that privileged sanctum. He strode to the center of the room and let out a primal scream, letting go of eight months' worry and frustration.

O'Neal was drenched by 10 bottles of champagne aimed by teammates.

The players locked together in a dancing, singing scrum. What they were singing, only they knew.

Which is as it should be.

Last year's Lakers championship was for Los Angeles, for the fans.

This year's Lakers championship is for them.