Remembering Kobe Bryant

You know the news by now, so I don’t feel the need to recap it.

I’ve been hurt for a few days. I hadn’t had a good night’s sleep for weeks before Sunday, and the past few days have been just as bad. Rest has been avoiding me. I didn’t think I could be shaken up like this.

There’s a lot one can say about Kobe Bryant, especially someone that grew up in the 90’s and early 2000s. Kobe was more than just a basketball player. He was a focal point of the culture. He was an inspiration to many. He combined homicidal competitiveness with the will and work ethnic neccesarry to go from great to legend. Yet for all of his basketball accolades, it’s the man he was growing into that mattered the most, and the reason why it hurts so bad that he is gone too soon.

If there is solace to be found in this tragedy, I think it’s that Kobe received his flowers while he was still here. I remember years ago talking about how excited I was to see Kobe in retirement. Some guys you just know are going to go and do bigger and better things when they’re done playing the game. Kobe was one of them. His passion for soccer, providing opportunities to those less privileged, and for furthering women’s sports were all contagious elements he possessed.

The most encouraging thing about Kobe was seeing the love he had for his children, for his daughters. A lot of things can be faked. Chances are, if you are reading this, you don’t know the nature of Kobe’s relationship with his wife, Vanessa. But it’s clear Kobe and his second daughter, Gianna, had an inseparable bond. You can’t fake that kind of relationship. 13 year olds just aren’t going to have it.

It sucks that Kobe, Gianna, and the other seven passengers on that helicopter are gone too soon. It’s not just the Bryant family in mourning, it’s so many others. But I am encouraged that it seems the biggest takeaway from this tragic ordeal may end up being the all encompassing nature by which Kobe loved his children. As a man, you can do a lot of things in life, yet I can think of nothing greater than being an exceptional father. That’s the kind of attribute that truly echoes through eternity.

Nine people are gone way too soon, and we are all left to try and make sense of their untimely passing. That’s the thing about loss, no matter when it happens or who it happens to, it’s one of the few things on this planet and in this life we can all associate with. Death isn’t optional. It doesn't discriminate. It doesn’t care where you are from, who your parents are, or what's in your bank account. It’s pervasive. It’s penetrating. It’s relentless.

As a Black man, Kobe is such an intricate part of me, not just as a sports figure, but as a seminal part of culture. Every time you went to the trashcan in middle and high school to throw away a balled up piece of paper, you yelled “Kobe!” At least once a month, you argued with friends over his basketball legacy. As we both got older, you became more and more excited about what he would accomplish in life after basketball, knowing that the relentless work ethic he brought to the court would be used for so much greater good the rest of his life.

I think that’s a mistake many of us constantly make, that perhaps Kobe didn’t. That being, we tend to think the rest of our life has more time on it than what we have already lived. It makes us yearn for what can be, more than appreciating what currently is. If nothing else, it is clear that Kobe lived in the moment. That he was dedicated to giving his all to whatever task he set before himself.

It's always tough losing the greats, but if nothing else, let Kobe’s passing remind us that the Mamba Mentality isn’t just about professional relationships, but it’s also about the love we share and provide to those that need it most.

Mamba out, and yet, Mama Forever.