It’s been 36 hours since the news, and I’m still at a loss. One of my most-revered childhood heroes – the person who helped ignite my lifelong love for basketball and a constant fixture in an ever-changing and evolving sport – is gone. The past couple days have felt surreal. I’ve hung out with friends, gone to work, and continued living my life. But whenever a quiet moment comes up, the dark clouds and heavy-achy feeling of my heart make themselves known. Kobe is gone.
Those three words, simple and devastating, carry with them the tragedy of nine lives, lost too soon. They bring with them heavy sighs and teary eyes at the thought that one of his most precious, Gigi, perished with him. I keep expecting to wake up from a nightmare. Not Kobe. He’s the last person to be subject to the whims of nature and human error. He could take over the controls of that helicopter and singlehandedly save everyone on board. Not Kobe.
As tributes continue to pour in from around the world, as celebrities, athletes, and other legends have expressed their sadness and have told their stories about one of the sport’s greatest, I can only humbly share my own, however insubstantial. I can’t keep on consuming all the takes out there – I have to write. Kobe deserves it, and I’d like to think he’d approve.
At the risk of sounding melodramatic, basketball saved me. As a first-year high schooler in suburban LA, dropped into a brand new school district with zero friends and enrolled in catch-up classes that were uninspiring and unchallenging, I only had one thing to look forward to – basketball. I joined the freshmen basketball team, and every day I counted down the minutes until afternoon practice. It was a passion that brought with it mental and physical benefits, friendships, and so much more. Even though I don’t play as much as I’d like to these days, my passion for the sport remains.
Kobe and the Lakers played a huge role in developing that passion. I still remember watching Game 7 of the Western Conference Finals back in 2000. The Lakers were playing the Blazers and were down 13 by the fourth quarter. My best friend and I trudged outside to shoot some hoops and let off some steam. Not too long after, we came back into the living room and were shocked. Not only had the Lakers pulled off one of the greatest fourth quarter comebacks in playoffs history, but a late-period alley oop from Kobe to Shaq sealed the deal and seemingly singlehandedly started the Lakers’ legendary three-peat championship run.
Legendary. That word is used a lot in describing Kobe and his accomplishments. From his 4 am workouts to his 81-point offensive masterpiece to his two clutch shots, the first to tie and the second to win, against the Suns in Game 4 of the 2002 NBA Playoffs, Kobe’s achievements on the court have been the stuff of legends. Here was an athlete that inspired a whole generation of kids, yelling “Kobe!” as they took jump shots on their drive ways, cul-de-sacs, and local gyms around the world.
I was one of those kids, starry-eyed as I practiced drill after drill, jumper after jumper. And I had those same starry eyes as I sat hunched in front of my computer on a spring night in 2016, watching the final game of Kobe’s career against the Utah Jazz where he capped off his 20 seasons with a jaw-dropping 60-point performance. And while his 20 years as a professional athlete were not without controversy, low points, and mistakes, his final game seemed to make a statement – “I’m just getting started.”
Fast forward several years. In his retirement, Kobe stayed involved with the league as an ambassador and mentor, dedicated himself to his family by supporting his wife and his kids in their own pursuits, and made a killing in all that he set his mind to (including a freaking Oscar). And it’s here where things sadly come to a close, as of January 26, 2020.
Thank you, Kobe, for inspiring me, along with countless people around the world. Your dedication to your craft, your incredible work ethic, and your willingness to stay engaged and mentor the next generation remind me to be the best that I can be, regardless of the season of life I may be in. It’s hard to see myself getting through this loss, but like so many NBA stars have already mentioned, you’d want us to continue killing it in this game called life. So thanks, and we’ll do our absolute best.
“Heroes come and go, but legends are forever.” -Kobe Bryant, Black Mamba
