Mamba Out: A Beautiful Tragedy

Today has been hard. Hard in a way I don't even fully comprehend yet. Uncontrollable sobs have washed over me like a tidal current; starting gently, only to crash harder and harder against the rocks towards nightfall. When the tears stop, life just feels fuzzy... confusing... surreal. Depending on your connection to basketball and Kobe specifically, maybe you're feeling some of these same emotions. Maybe I'm the only one with the swollen face from crying in public over a stranger and his daughter's tragic death. 

As a kid from Portland, Kobe singlehandedly turned the Lakers into our biggest rivals and for a hot minute, we became theirs too. Blazer fans HATED LA and most, hated Kobe with a passion. For me, it was complicated. On one hand, I hated the franchise and of course Kobe when he played us, on the other hand, as a student of the game, he was unlike anything I had ever seen. I tried to emulate everything he did. At 13 years old, I had no business trying to perfect a turn around fadeaway jumper, but there I was. 

Every time I tossed a paper in the garbage can, it was "Kobe!". Even at the park, during crunch-time, I would stick out my bottom teeth like Kobe. 

What always impressed me most about him, was his love for the game. 

If you read how Kobe speaks spoke about basketball in The Players' Tribune article, the sport was love personified. 

I fell in love with you.

A love so deep I gave you my all —
From my mind & body
To my spirit & soul.

And so I ran.
I ran up and down every court
After every loose ball for you.
You asked for my hustle
I gave you my heart
Because it came with so much more.

Kobe gave his mind, body and his spirit to the game. No injury was enough to stop him. He seemed invincible. This is the man who tore his Achilles and still went and hit his free throws right after. And when he retired, he didn't have a son to pass the love of the game down to. But he had a daughter, Gianna, with that same love for the game and that same Mamba mentality as her father. She would be the one to carry that torch for him. No son needed. 

As a little girl who grew up without a dad and whose single mom introduced her to the game of basketball, I've always had a special appreciation for father daughter bonds. The Kobe, Gigi bond was on another level. Kobe was the dad I wish I could have had. 

Gigi was a baby Kobe. The same passion and obsession he poured into the game, he also poured into being a father and imparting his basketball wisdom on the one child who loved the game as much as he did. And today, they died together, on the way to taking Gigi to basketball practice. 

He gave his entire life to his family and to the game of basketball, quite literally. The poetry in his death is beautiful and tragic all at once. And that's why I've been sobbing all day. There's layers to this loss that hit close to home.  

But life must go on. The most fitting way to honor him was to play. Tonight, a group of random strangers, with a sort of solemn and unspoken agreement, left it all out on the floor for you tonight, Kobe. All of us scrubs came out and played with every play with an intensity you'd be proud of. We're all going to miss you. 

Mamba Out.