On Kobe
Kobe Bryant was so much more than a basketball player.
Kobe was an American Icon. He was at once an athletic force of nature, a towering cult of personality, a scion for the city at the heart of fame, and a relentless pursuer of greatness in all walks of life. He was also a husband and a father to four young girls, one of whom had their life tragically stolen from the world, before she had the opportunity to pursue what may well have been a higher greatness than her father. I sit here days after their passing, mourning a celebrity in a fashion unlike any who have come before, not only because of the cruel and untimely manner of his death, but because of what he represented: a man with an iron will, satisfied only with perfection, all those who stand in his way be damned. Kobe was a mythic figure walking among us. There was no slight he could not overcome, no injury through which he could not persevere, no mountain he could not climb. Time and time again, he vanquished his doubters through sheer effort: winning an Oscar, writing poetry, lending venture capital, and coaching his daughter Gianna to be a better basketball player than he was. On Sunday, when he was unceremoniously vanquished from this world, any doubters that remained became grievers, and we all could only genuflect on the memories we have of his legacy.
For many of us, there is no world without Kobe Bryant. He spent the last twenty five years intimately intertwined with all walks of American life. In between Michael Jordan and LeBron James, two of the most famous athletes to ever live, he was the face of our most recognizable game. A two-time Olympic Gold Medalist, Bryant in 2008 took a team of our biggest stars — James, Chris Paul, Carmelo Anthony, Dwyane Wade, Dwight Howard — and lifted them on his shoulders past adversity to the heights of sport. He was a living legend in their eyes, and as his career dwindled after the turn of the decade, his influence spread far and wide, leaving a permanent imprint. Today’s future Hall of Famers — Kawhi Leonard, Paul George, Luka Doncic, Giannis Antetokounmpo, Kyrie Irving, James Harden — idolized Bryant and copied his movements, much like Bryant did his idol Jordan years ago. But while a particular brand of greatness may be imitated, it can never be replaced.
Like most living legends, Bryant carried with him a folkloric ethos and stories that seem absurd beyond the scope of reality. Jay Williams, who had his own brush with death after his rookie season with the Chicago Bulls, has talked about the time he went to Los Angeles to play the Kobe/Shaq Lakers at the peak of their excellence. Determined to be great and faced with the first monumental challenge of his career, he arrived at the arena four hours before the game to sink four hundred jump shots. To his surprise and chagrin, Kobe was already there, drenched in a full sweat. Williams conducted his ninety minute workout, and Kobe kept pace on the opposite end of the court. When Williams finished, Kobe kept going for another half hour. The twenty one year-old approached the legend after that night’s game, hoping to prod the mind of the future Hall of Famer.
“Hey Kob, why were you in the gym for so long?”, Williams asked.
“Because I saw you come in and I wanted you to know that it doesn’t matter how hard you work, I’m willing to work harder than you.”
The Lakers were coming off three consecutive championships that season, a feat only accomplished by Michael Jordan’s Bulls since the NBA merged with the ABA in 1976, and one that has not been repeated since. Kobe scored 21 points with 10 rebounds, 7 assists, 5 steals and a block in 39 minutes that night against Jay Williams, and the Lakers won by thirteen. There are countless stories like that, all of them true, none of them embellished, because they don’t need to be. Bryant was given otherworldly gifts, of that there is no doubt, but his desire to chisel those gifts, his dedication to rise above a crowd of perfectionists and strivers, that is what made him special.
To lose a person of Kobe’s professional caliber is devastating, and only in their passing can one understand the magnitude of their impact. Much like the death of John Lennon, this outpouring of grief requires a certain confluence of particular tragedies. It takes a unique combination of untimeliness, manner of demise, and the living of life in public view, the pursuit of excellence in such a performative degree that to ignore Bryant’s exploits was impossible. The level to which he dedicated himself to his craft seeped into every home and family in this country, regardless if they ever watched him play the game he loved. But still, somehow, the loss of Kobe feels different, more momentous, harder to shake. And it boils down to his humanity.
Kobe Bryant was as human as it gets. He was an inherently flawed person, fueled by a maniacal drive that alienated his teammates and stoked the flames of conflict without fear of consequence. He was embroiled in a sexual assault investigation for his actions with a hotel employee in Colorado, and while we may never know the truth of what happened in that hotel room, it is a crucial chapter in his story, and one that elicited a public apology. That night nearly broke up his family, and he emerged from the scandal defiant. Despite his contractually obligated contrition, he forged the image of the Black Mamba, a moniker that represented his guiding light, an unyielding dedication to the work ethic that spurred his greatness. With the walls closing in around him, he found solace in the work, depositing every drop of labor into getting the most out of each day.
Years later, when Bryant tore his Achilles tendon, it effectively ended his career as a productive player. The night it happened, there was no agony that could separate him from his ambitions. He raised himself to his feet, sank his two free throws, and walked himself to the locker room. After the game, when asked if that was the last fans would see of Kobe Bryant in a Lakers jersey, he rejected the premise. There was no doubt he would return. In recovery, keeping with his character, he became obsessed with the legend of Achilles, a nearly invulnerable warrior that despite his unmatched strength, beauty and bravery, was destined to die young. It would seem an ironic twist of fate that a mythic figure like Kobe Bryant’s life and death is so intertwined with the literal myth of Achilles, his coincidental destiny a bow-tied addition to his storybook legacy. In my eyes, however, it is quite the opposite. The parallels reflect his humanity, the ubiquity of his struggle, the idea that no force of will, no matter how powerful, could ever overcome the cruelty of random chance.
Ultimately, the loss of Kobe Bryant should be a lesson to us all. He made the most of his time on this planet. He learned languages, created art, won championships, and forged unbreakable bonds. He became a living legend among his peers, blending myth and reality, and shattered the realm of possibility. He weathered domestic storms, raised two daughters into adolescence, and fathered two more that are too young to ever truly know their father. He traveled the world, was devout in his faith, and inspired the city that trades on inspiration more than any other. When Father Time stripped him of his passion, he found new ones, and became a mentor to those that followed in his footsteps. In mourning his passing, we must remember how he embraced humanity, sucking dry the well of life, always unflinchingly curious, leaving no stone unturned. It is only fitting that in his death, he was performing no mythic act, but a human one; he was being a dad. May Kobe Bryant and Gianna Bryant rest in peace, and may their memory live forever in the hearts and minds of each life they touched.
