Kobe Bryant Changed the Game Forever
It took me a few days before I could actually sit and write my final farewell to the only athlete in the world to etch a spot in my heart…
Several phenomenal athletes have graced my television in my almost 35 years on this earth. Many have wowed me showing off their skills on the world’s biggest stages and inspired me to study their respective journeys. But with few athletes have I found myself so engulfed that I completely separate them from their position as athlete and defend their honor as just an incredible human being.
Kobe Bryant was my one.
When Kobe was 17 years old, I was an 11 year old clinging to his every move on the basketball court. I loved the way he walked with confidence in a league that was still unsure about accepting the teenager. I adored the fact that after missing a shot, the next one was still his to take. He didn’t apologize for a turnover, because somehow he knew, his team knew and all of us watching knew that chances were he would make it right the next time he touched the ball. We all wanted him to have the ball as the clock expired.
Dribbling was second nature for Kobe. I think sometimes we took for granted just how smoothly he maneuvered the court night in and night out. Not being liked was never his concern. He was very matter of fact early in his career, but still likable. Being coined arrogant didn’t seem to stunt his confidence. He knew that he was an exceptional basketball player – he didn’t have to ask you or tell you. He was an intellectual – both a student and a professor of the game. No one could be Kobe and even more impressive – Kobe wasn’t trying to be anyone else.
Because we live in a society so fueled by the practice of comparison, I can’t remember too many sports conversations in which people didn’t try to compare Kobe to another great player. As a teenager, I found myself defending my favorite player on a regular basis. Sometimes it was me all alone in a sea of know-it-all men spewing out #8’s statistics. My bedroom was littered with Kobe posters, basketballs and jerseys.
Yes, I spent just as much of my youth watching Michael Jordan seemingly fly through the sky – but there was just something so special about the way my Kobe elevated. And then one day, I wanted to know what he was doing when the game went off. I found myself so enamored by his athletic prowess, but soon that just wasn’t enough. I wanted to know about the man.
Not only did he speak many languages, but Kobe was also by definition a humanitarian. He cared about developing youth, improving communities and embracing his doting fans. I’ve spent several days away from his social media pages, but I remember just how much of a champion he was for women. He celebrated girls and women realizing their dreams and surpassing their potential in the most genuine fashion. Somehow the man that so many people accused of being cocky and arrogant was softened in the most masculine way by the welcoming of his daughters.
Even though my basketball playing days ended much sooner than I wanted, somehow Kobe always kept me close to the game. I knew in high school that I wanted to be a sports journalist, because I wanted to share with flair and the most colorful language how skilled and knowledgeable Kobe was. Somehow I inserted him into just about every conversation in the newsroom. When he switched from #8 to # 24, I switched with him without hesitation.
Four years ago when I finally got my NBA credential to photograph and report on the Dallas Mavericks – I just knew that one day I would be presented with the opportunity to see my Kobe. Maybe he’ll sit courtside one night to watch Dirk or Luka I remember thinking. Maybe when Dirk retires, he’ll be in the tunnel and I can get but a moment of his time. I travel to Los Angeles every year and I’ve never packed a bag without a Kobe jersey, just hoping to run into him. In my mind I already knew Kobe, so I really just wanted that one photograph of him in the presence of the game he loved so much.
For most of us 30 somethings, we shared in Kobe’s maturation process. His passing away hurts. We watched him evolve from teenage hoop star to legend. The arrogance that so many accused him of having on the court would be studied and mimicked by the very accusers. But the Mamba Mentality he gave us is meant to inspire, not to be duplicated.
Kobe passed away on Sunday and it appears the world is still gasping for air days later. I’m still trying to bring myself to watch ESPN. We’re inundated with never before seen pictures of Kobe with his wife and daughters; interviews in which he proudly professed his love of being a “Girl Dad.” It’s beautiful and heartbreaking at the same time. There was something so pure and genuine about the way Kobe interacted with his daughters, especially young Gianna. Their handshakes, high fives, kisses and wide smiles were not computer generated. This was a man who enjoyed being a father to his girls.
Everyone seems to have an opinion about how we should grieve this tremendous loss.
Tonight two of my Kobe jerseys hang in my closest – staring at me. It’s still so surreal that we’re now living in a world without Kobe Bryant. Indeed he was a basketball player who most of us fans and spectators never met – but somehow this one man transcended sports and became a very important figure to his generation and generations to come.
Kobe’s exit from the land of the living took us by surprise, but also brought about many new and necessary perspectives.
Time is of the essence and time waits for no man. While we try to immortalize the wealthy and famous, they too are human beings who have expiry dates. Kobe’s significance to the sports world has humbled many of our current athletes in a way that perhaps they didn’t know was possible – just take a slow scroll on Instagram and read through their tears.
It may seem strange, but something tells me that neither Kobe nor Gianna would’ve been able to function well without the other here on earth.
I don’t make it a practice to put people in Heaven, but I do believe with all of my heart that Kobe Bryant did an incredible amount of good with the time that he had here on earth. The fact that he won’t see himself inducted into the Hall of Fame, watch his daughter play basketball in college or watch his family grow old together is a collective tragedy, but his legacy will live on forever. Let us take comfort in that.
