Kobe: more than just a player

It is amazing to think about the impact that one individual can have on your life. Even more incredible is when they can do so without even knowing of your existence; it is amazing that someone can walk the streets on any given day, and somewhere in another city, state, or country a child has developed a passion because of what they do. This is the type of relationship that began forming when I was just 4 years old and the then 18-year-old Kobe Bryant began his professional basketball career.

For almost as long as I can remember, Kobe Bean Bryant has been a force in the National Basketball Association (NBA). And for just as long, I have admired his playing style and his passion for the game. If you asked 10 players around the league who the hardest working player in the NBA was, all 10 would respond with, “Kobe Bryant.” These are the things I watched. His effort when the arena was empty came to light when it was filled with fans. Year by year, Kobe progressed until he found himself being called the best player in the league. This, too, I watched.

I watched as he was forced to take his cape off for a moment in 2003 and deal with sexual assault allegations, a time that showed me Kobe wasn’t just the mythical hero I thought he was, but rather quite human. Just 24 years old at the time, his handling of the situation was admirable, and when a settlement was reached, I watched an emotionally battered basketball player bounce back like only he could—by excelling even more on the court.

In seasons following, I saw Kobe set records that will likely stand for decades, if not forever, such as his 81-point game. To list a couple more of his many accolades, he also added two more rings to his list of championship titles and earned a regular season MVP award.

As I reached my teenage years, I wanted more and more to be like this guy­—at least on the court. I changed my number to 24 and stuck with it until the end of my college career. Although I could never compare myself to a player like Kobe, I’d be lying if I said that putting jersey No. 24 on my back didn’t give me a sense of confidence; an idea that I was going to do something special each time I stepped on the floor.

In 2013, after single-handedly propelling the Los Angeles Lakers to another playoff appearance, Kobe suffered a torn Achilles tendon, an injury that most deemed career-ending. Again, I watched my idol become human. With tears in his eyes, I watched Kobe tell reporters that he would be back. I wasn’t even sure if he believed it, but knowing this stranger as well as I did, I had no doubt about his return.

Upon his return came the realization that his years and mileage in the NBA were catching up to him. Kobe showed flashes of his old self, but he and all of his fans knew the time was near, and shortly after the start of the 2015-16 season, his 20th season in the league, the announcement was made. Kobe Bryant was set to retire at the end of the season. This time, rather than watch, I read as a poem entitled ‘Dear Basketball,’ written by Kobe, was published on The Players’ Tribune. The poem was his way of saying goodbye to the game.

I always used to say I was going to cry the day Kobe retired, but I never was sure if I was joking or being serious. I learned quickly that I couldn’t be more serious. I read Kobe’s poem aloud to my mother and found my voice cracking more with each stanza, using every ounce of ‘tough guy’ in my body to hold back my tears. The following day, I read her a letter written to Kobe by a Boston Celtics (longtime Lakers’ rivals) fan. The content of the letter was incredible. This fan wanted Kobe to know that despite all the hate he’s held for him over all these years of him being in a Lakers’ uniform, he still appreciated everything Kobe has done for the game (in more words). Inevitably, I sobbed and so did my mom.

The retirement of Kobe Bryant was more to me than just a player retiring from his sport. This announcement came at the end of my college career—one which saw some success, but too many injuries to continue into a pro career as I had dreamed for all my life. So, the timing of this retirement was symbolic to me.

Kobe Bryant retiring from the game of basketball was equivalent to a piece of the game being taken away forever. Additionally, it was almost as if the end of his career meant the same for me. I’m not sure what watching basketball with the name Kobe Bryant not being repeated constantly will be like, but I know it won’t be the same.

Throughout this article, I’ve referred to Kobe Bryant casually by his first name because for 20 years I have felt like I know him. I was that kid­—watching; wanting to be just like that guy on TV whose passion for basketball matched and likely exceeded mine.

Kobe Bryant to me is a hero, and through all of this rambling, I just wanted to use this opportunity to show my gratitude toward him for what he’s meant to basketball and the impact he’s had on my life. To me, Kobe Bryant is more than a player of basketball; he is basketball.