What Kobe was Greatest At
What Kobe was Greatest At
Kobe is more than just an athlete. He connected us all.
Kobe was great at a lot of things — playing basketball, making short animated films, and being a father. But one of the things he was best at was connecting people.
We all grew up watching Kobe. Going to a game was a privilege and a highlight of our lives. Seeing him win championships electrified us, especially when we beat Boston in Game 7 and Kobe became Finals MVP.
Every fadeaway, every Mamba glare, every crossover — he connected us with his skill and prowess. Whether we watched from Staples Center, through our TV screens, or in the car, with Chick Hearn narrating to us from the media booth, we all waited for Kobe to have the ball in his hands and make magic happen.
And he did. Not just with the rings on his fingers or the MVP titles, but within our own lives. So many Los Angeles-based immigrant families could gather and cheer for #8 and #24 together. Generations unified around Lakers purple and gold, and we watched and celebrated together.
There was even more magic. Boys and girls, unconfident and unsure, would remember Kobe’s intense and furious drive towards perfection and excellence through practice and hard work. They would dribble and shoot, over and over again. Then when they would fling their basketballs into the air and yell, “Kobe!,” that ball would swoosh gracefully through the hoop.
Yes, magic happened.
We all know our heroes aren’t perfect, and Kobe is no exception. His trade demands, his ball-hogging, and his put-down of teammates were common knowledge to fans. There were non-basketball issues too — when he sexually assaulted (and probably raped) a woman in Colorado, and that time when he called a referee a homophobic slur.
Those things are real parts of Kobe that we must also grapple with. And true fans of Kobe can face those flaws without burying or dismissing them
I am glad he apologized to the victim in Colorado, and he has reportedly learned through and from his his mistakes. I believe he has grown and changed.
As journalist Linsay Gibbs wrote in her own newsletter:
Its also real, though, how much he meant to the women’s basketball community, a community I have been immersed in as a journalist for a few years now. His support of women’s basketball — and women’s soccer and women’s tennis, and I’m sure other women’s sports — meant so, so much to the athletes and the coaches. His passion for women’s sports sports was genuine; he followed them closely and gave them a level of support that they rarely receive from icons in men’s sports. He was especially generous with his time and talents to young, black female athletes. That matters.
Kobe is a flawed man, and we can still mourn him, even with his mistakes. In fact, I invite you to read his apology, which is miles better than so many of the supposed “apologies” many people give during this #metoo era.
We knew an era had ended when Kobe retired.
After being known for a beast on the court, he settled into his role as being a father, a mentor, and a coach. We’ve seen the pictures of Kobe with Gigi, watching games together and breaking down plays.
We’ve all grown too. We’ve graduated high school and college. Some of us have gotten married and had kids.
And we all kind of moved on. Until this Sunday. Until we heard the news. And then those ties that bound us to Kobe were cut suddenly by a crashed helicopter that burst into flames.
“I can’t believe he’s gone.”
But I hope you can remember that although Kobe may be gone, those strings that connected us to him are not severed completely. Because he built strings that connect us to one another. From Laker fan to Laker fan. From church basketball tournaments to pick-up games at the gym. From our parents, to us, and now to our kids. From our Nike shoes to our purple and gold jerseys. We are still connected by the threads of our collective memories — the Sunday night games and the playoff intensity; the free throws with his torn Achilles and the 81-point-game in Toronto.
So as sad as we are, I hope we can find solace in one another. I hope we will read one another’s posts, and perhaps publish our own thoughts. I hope we can share our favorite memories and post our favorite videos. I hope we can hug each other and cry together. Because that’s how we will mourn and celebrate together. And that is how Kobe can continue to do what he was great at — connect us to one another.
Note: I edited this newsletter for clarity at 8pm-ish.
