Goodbye, Kobe. Mamba Forever!

January 26, 2020, Monday (Philippine time).  A day I will probably never forget.

The alarm I set for 5:00 a.m. in my cellphone rang; I turned it off and went back to sleep.  The alarm I set for 5:30 in my tablet rang; I turned it off and went back to sleep.  Finally, I rose from my bed at the sound of the alarm I set for quarter to six.  After my usual brief morning prayer, I took hold of my cellphone again to browse Facebook.  And the very first item on my news feed was this Laker Nation headline: Kobe Dies in Helicopter Crash Outside Los Angeles.

I was stunned.  I rubbed my eyes, disbelieving the words I was reading.  I had always thought that the cliché we see on TV and movie in which a character would pinch or slap himself to check if he’s dreaming was ridiculously overdramatic.  I couldn’t imagine someone in real life doing something like that.  Surely, one would know if he’s awake, right?  However, for a brief moment, I really thought I might be dreaming.  And for the first time in my life, I unironically slapped both my checks simultaneously and shook my head to check if I was truly awake.

So I confirmed that I was awake, but I still couldn’t believe it.  For another brief moment after that, I entertained the thought that this must be one of those celebrity death hoaxes.  But as I continued browsing through my news feed on top of a Google search, the actuality of this tragedy finally hit me completely. Kobe was truly gone.

During this time, I could feel my chest slowly tightening.  My lips went dry, and I could taste the taste of bile rising in my mouth.  And even when my brain essentially acknowledged that it was true, parts of me were still having a tough time processing it.

Another thing that I had found ridiculous was people genuinely grieving and crying for a celebrity’s death.  I thought it was silly for people to get so moved by the passing of a person they didn’t even have a personal connection with.  Of course, we could be saddened by the death of famous people we’ve become fans of.  But to the point of actually mourning and weeping like they’re friends or family?  That’s just dumb, right?

To my surprise, that also happened to me.  For the first time in my life, I found myself actually shedding tears and sobbing because a celebrity I like – someone who I’ve never met or interacted with, let alone shared a bond – died.  I was genuinely devastated. 

Why? Well, maybe because I’m such a huge Kobe fan boy.  If you know me, you would know he’s my hero.  He’s a major reason why I bleed purple and gold.  You could even say that I’m a Kobe fan first and a Laker fan second.  Throughout the lifetime of this blog, I’ve sung Kobe’s praises multiple times.  When I was in high school, my friends and I had arguments about who was the best in the NBA, and I would passionately debate in Kobe’s behalf against my friends whose favorite player was Allen Iverson or Tracy McGrady.  During my college years and early in my young adulthood, I was a staunch Kobe apologist in the Internet, engaging in flame wars with haters in the NBA community blogs and forums I frequented (I loved to argue in the Internet back then).  When the Pistons stunned Kobe and the Lakers in five games during the 2004 Finals, I wasn’t able to return back to school in the afternoon because I was so upset, I felt ill (also, I wasn’t in the mood to listen to my friends’ ridicule).  When the Celtics beat the Lakers in the 2008 Finals, ruining what could have been a storybook season for Kobe and a delightful birthday month for me, I was heartbroken.  Those moments were just basketball, and they managed to elicit much emotional reaction from me.  How much more with such a tragic happening like this?

And that’s another thing why Kobe’s death hit me hard – it was wrapped around unbelievably tragic circumstances.

He died young – just 41.  We don’t expect our heroes to die young.  By definition, they are immortal to us.  Thus, when they do die young, it comes as a shock that we have a hard time processing it. In addition, when the people we admire die of old age, it’s painful, but we also feel that they have managed to live a full life already – meaning, they already have had enough time to share to the world the best of their crafts and build the legacy they wanted. Hence, it’s much easier to come to terms with their deaths.  Kobe was just barely out of retiring as a player.  And, while his legacy as an all-time NBA great has long been set in stone, he was actually just starting out with his second career, which was actually looking to be as promising and exciting as his first.  His post-NBA life – in which he’s a business mogul; an award-winning storyteller; a charismatic, motivational philosopher; and a revered basketball master whose insight, mentoring, and affirmation are valued and sought out by the brightest stars in the game today – was shaping up to be as interesting as his days playing in the league.  Thus, the pain I feel from his demise is compounded by the thought of missing out on what more Kobe could have given us.  Heck, just the fact that we’ll never get to hear his Hall of Fame speech now is so dismaying.

On top of that, the nature of his passing is also a significant factor why this hurts me so much.  For not only is a helicopter crash a horrifying way to go, but Kobe also had to watch the impending death of his 13-year-old daughter Gianna “Gigi” Bryant, one of the eight other people who crashed and died in that chopper with him.

One of the things that Kobe poured himself into when he retired from the NBA was being a loving family man.  Even when he was still playing (at least, in the latter part of his career), he was already a noteworthy family man.  In fact, he started riding a helicopter because he wanted to avoid the notorious LA traffic and spend as much time with his family before he would go on Laker road trips.  Nevertheless, in his pursuit of greatness, Kobe had to sacrifice some quality time with them, of course.  Thus, when he retired from the NBA, he really devoted himself to his family.  This was endearingly apparent by how giddy, proud, and joyful he got whenever he had to talk about them, and he declared in several occasions that he’d rather be with them than do anything else.

He was especially outspoken of the delight he found from being the father to four girls.  He wore the badge of being a “girl dad” more proudly than his five championship rings.  And the daughter he gushed over the most was Gigi.  It’s not necessarily because she was his favorite, but since he’s a basketball legend, he gets to be asked to talk about a lot of basketball-related stuff, and Gigi was the only one who decided to take up her father’s craft.  According to Kobe, whenever people went up to him to say that they wished he had a son to continue his legacy, Gigi would boldly step up and declare that she would be the one to do it.  She had the Mamba in her.  I’ve also always wished there was a Kobe Jr., but Gigi’s willingness to embrace the challenge of following in her legendary father’s footsteps also won me over.  I was intrigued of what her future held.  She totally took advantage of the privilege of being Kobe’s daughter, benefiting on his mentoring and connections in order to develop herself as a player and student of the game.  Kobe even boasted that she was better than he was at her age.  And based on the footage he shared, it indeed looked like it.

Gigi was on her way to becoming the GOAT in the WNBA – which was probably her dream, being Kobe’s heir and all.  But that, too, is sadly something we won’t be able to witness anymore.  We won’t be able to know how glorious her story arc might have been.

As a Christian, I believe that God is sovereign, and there’s no such thing as accidents.  There are no maverick molecules in the universe.  His will is perfect and full of wisdom.  We might not be able to see that in this tragedy, but if this is indeed how He has ordained their stories to end, then it surely must be the “correct” resolution, and it’s only once we look at it in the context and from the vantage point of Eternity before we can truly grasp its beauty and meaning.  Nevertheless, as temporal, limited beings, it’s hard to make sense of it, and we’ll never truly and completely shake off that feeling that the randomness and chaos in this world have robbed us of the what-could-have-been.  Hence, we naturally mourn.

I really mourned this week.  If you’re connected to me in Facebook, you would probably have seen me flooding your news feed with links to Kobe Bryant memes, articles, and videos.  I read or watched every Kobe tribute I encountered in the Internet.  Just when I thought that I wouldn’t cry anymore, I would see an earnest, emotional tribute that would make me tear up again.

It was so moving to see how much Kobe is so widely loved and respected.  Everyone around the world and from all walks of life paid his or her respects to Kobe (a couple of notable ones came from my country, the Philippines).  LA is home to the world’s most famous people, with Hollywood an all, and yet, probably none of them will receive the same kind of mourning and salute that Kobe has been getting if they had been the ones who died in that crash.  It’s simply amazing.  What Kobe meant to people was evidently bigger than basketball.  He was bigger than basketball.

Heck, even the prominently anti-Kobe figures in the media have been gushing over him these past few days.  I find it hypocritical or inauthentic of them to do so when they have spent the last couple of years slandering Kobe and discounting his legacy.  But I choose to let this slide.  There will be a time to call them out.  Not now.

If we can try to learn or reflect anything from Kobe’s death, it is this: life is fleeting.  It can end unexpectedly.  If an “immortal” like Kobe can die abruptly, how much more with us mere mortals?  Thus, let’s not waste time on petty, unimportant things, and let’s not put off for tomorrow what is rightfully available for us to do, say, or experience today.  Let’s live our lives in a manner that puts us in a place where, regardless of the time, we will be ready and happy to finally meet our Maker.

Goodbye, Kobe.  And thank you!

All my love, and forever and always a Kobe fan...