Goodbye, Kobe
January 27, 2020
By Steve Thomas
I’m sitting here in my local Starbucks this morning, about 20 or so hours removed from receiving the shocking news of the death of one of my two favorite basketball players, Kobe Bryant. Forgive me, because this column was unplanned and is going to be a bit of a rambling mess that’s entirely off the top of my head, plus it has nothing to do with the Redskins or football. My first knowledge of this news came via an out-of-nowhere text message from a family member while I was out running errands yesterday: “Did Kobe actually die?” I hadn’t heard or seen anything about it yet, so my response was simply, “Huh?”, and then I followed up with a message saying that the person must’ve seen some stupid internet thing about Lebron James passing Kobe on the scoring list. I checked ESPN, which had nothing, and then TMZ, which had the story, and at first I didn’t believe it. I really thought it was either a mistake or some sort of sick joke played by TMZ. I stood in the middle of a store for several minutes in disbelief staring at various websites hunting for news as my phone began to blow up with messages from several other people. This was so out of the blue that it was tough to accept as reality. Then, the even more sickening news came that his 13 year old daughter, Gianna, was with him, along with several other players and family members from her youth basketball team. I was glued to ESPN for the rest of the night, in a state of shock.
I’m a diehard Lakers fan dating all the way back to when I lived in Southern California as a kid at the beginning of the Magic Johnson era. I love the Lakers as much as I love the Redskins. I didn’t know Kobe at all. Never met him, never spoke to him. I just watched him on TV from the beginning of his Lakers career through the end, and remember him as a high school prodigy in Philadelphia. There’s no reason for me to have such a visceral reaction to the death of someone I don’t know, but it happened. This is the second time, the other being the tragic murder of Redskins legend Sean Taylor back in 2007. At some level, I feel a little silly for feeling legitimate sadness at the death of someone with whom I have no personal relationship, but I’ve come to realize that these people on our sports teams, and in the entertainment world in general, fill an important role in each of us. For me, Kobe, and to a lesser extent, Sean, was a huge figure in my life. He was someone I watched on TV for probably at least 40 or more games per year for 20 years and had the opportunity to see play live a couple times. I admired him for his incredible tenacity and will. Kobe was a person who, more than any other athlete I can think of, truly maximized and lived up to every bit of his natural, God-given talent. This wasn’t a person who was lazy and just relied on natural ability to dominate the basketball world. He worked like a maniac for everything, and I admired that greatly about him. He was more than just faceless entertainment. At some level, Kobe represented an ideal for all of us – strive for what you want and never give up. When things look their worst, get up at 4 am and get to work. He filled a significant part of one corner of my mind – not family, but nonetheless, something I’ve spent half my life watching, admiring, and caring about.
The worst part was hearing about the children who died in that helicopter crash. As a parent myself, I can’t imagine having to live through that, and those families who are left behind will have to deal with the loss for the rest of their lives. Kobe was the big name in this, but please don’t forget about the anonymous young people and family members who died, too. This was an unspeakable tragedy for them, too, and they deserve our sympathy.
Kobe’s legacy isn’t fairly evaluated without acknowledging his Colorado sexual assault case from 2003. I don’t know what really happened there, whether he was guilty or not, but at a minimum he undoubtedly did a terrible thing, and I don’t know how the woman felt at the time or feels now. Whatever occurred, though, he did appear to overcome that character flaw to become a better person. I think Kobe, if he were here, would acknowledge his failing and encourage everyone to use it as an example of what not to do. He was flawed, like all of us. That’s a lesson in and of itself.
But is it okay to “grieve” in this situation, even though this was someone neither I nor most likely any of you knew at all or even met? I say yes, because Kobe’s legacy and shadow was so large that he affected millions all around the world. He made people happy, made people mad, engendered feelings of extreme hatred in some – no matter what, his presence on this earth was felt, really felt, by almost everyone, including me.
So, yes, I’m legitimately sad, like I was when Sean died, and I think it’s okay for everyone to feel that way too. I extend my deepest sympathies to the Bryant family, including his parents, wife, 3 remaining daughters, and other family members who will now be without their son, husband, and father. I’ll get over this in time, but they will not. Goodbye, Kobe. You’ll be missed.