I have not written on this blog in years, Not sure anyone is still following. Losing Kobe compelled me to post on here. — The Only Son
Dear Kobe,
I didn’t know you personally, and never met you (watching you play live doesn’t really count) but you have been a part of my life since 1996. You were just a kid then, and in many aspects, so was I.
An 18 year-old playing for the Lakers. You were the personification of my childhood dreams. I would grow to have other dreams, but you would grow on me.
I am a die-hard Lakers fan, so you took some getting used to. Brash, cocky rookie who didn’t like passing to the savvy legend who scored 60 points in his final game. 4 air balls in the playoffs, I cringed whenever you touched the ball to the stone cold assassin that made me yell “Get the ball to Kobe!” at my TV when the games were tight.
I watched you play live in so many cities and you never disappointed, except that one time you got ejected in Seattle – You made it up to me by scoring 46 when I was there to see you again.
But you were more to me. You were my nephew’s first favorite player. He would soon love the game so much that it became a sacred bond between him and I.
My Mom wasn’t a basketball fan, but because of me she was a Lakers fan. She knew the one-name wonders – Kareem, Magic, Shaq. And she definitely knew Kobe. She didn’t understand the game much but she knew to question the coach’s decision whenever she saw you walking to the bench. She watched you as if you were her child. Your ability to draw people in transcended generations – 3 in my own family.
81 points. You scored that mere weeks after my Dad passed away. I didn’t watch the game. In my mourning, I took away, for a short period, what gave me pleasure. But, I couldn’t resist checking on my Lakers via the box scores. 81?! I had to read the game summary to make sure it wasn’t a misprint. “Geez, Kobe!” I shook my head and smiled for the first time in a long time.
You inspired me. You were so early to practice that you slept in your car waiting for the practice facility doors to be unlocked. You created the Mamba Mentality (and those hilarious “You’re welcome” ads). Going back further, you were “Kobe Bryant – Slam Dunk Giant” in the Sprite commercial. You were that warrior that walked back on the court after tearing your Achilles to shoot free throws; not for the 2 points, but to make sure you could come back into that particular game if you were at all able to, for your team. You didn’t flinch when Matt Barnes faked throwing the ball at your head – you were a true baller.
#8 dazzled me. #24 made me want to keep playing as I got older. The Black Mamba made me want to be better at everything I did. Your poem “Dear Basketball” brought tears to my eyes. And now, so will any thought of you.
Thank you for the memories, Kobe. I will miss you dearly. May Allah be with you (Ameen).
Love,
A die-hard Laker fan (Wajahat)