To Kobe Bryant
Dear Mr. Basketball,
I will always remember. I was 6 years old in 1998, when my father and grandfather introduced me to the world of basketball. The same year, my father bought me my first computer game — NBA 98. I remember the epic battles between MJ and Karl Malone, the power of Shaq, Reggie Miller’s threes. But what I remember most distinctly is when I played the game and I chose the LA Lakers. There was this veteran shooting guard, Eddie Jones, who was always in the starting line-up. You, Mr. Basketball, were among the substitutes. And every single time I changed the teams and I put you as a starting guard and put Eddie Jones as a small forward. Every single time. I remember wondering how on Earth were you not a starter? Never mind your incredible basketball attributes, there was just this passion in your eyes that I haven’t seen so far. How could the coach not see that this passion needs to be unleashed? I remember the first time I stepped on a real basketball court. I thought “I want to be like you”. Not like MJ, not like Shaq. Like you. I wanted to feel that passion you felt. I wanted to feel that extraordinary determination that streamed out of you every time you caught a basketball in your hands. You started a fire in my mind, back in 1998.
Through all the years, every time there was a Lakers game, I had a weird feeling in my stomach. I knew that something amazing will happen, because Mr. Basketball was playing. And it did. Even if you didn’t score a lot, even if you had a bad game, there was always that feeling that you brought in me. My eyes would widen, my heart would start pumping and pumping. I would be completely taken away. By the Mamba Mentality. I would watch how opponents were completely unable to grasp what to do against that. And I would think: “I don’t want that to stop. I want to distill that and have that forever.” Your last game was my favorite. You just went out and did that magic with the same determination and passion and skill like every other game you played and you mesmerized everyone — your opponents, your teammates, the crowd. Every single person watching that game was left out of breath. And still, no one was really surprised. Because that’s who you were.
What is more, what I admired most about you is how you embraced change in your life. How you recognized your mistakes and strived to never repeat them again. How you went from the best individual scorer in the NBA to the best leader in the NBA. How you used to strike fear in your teammates and then learned that by supporting and inspiring them, you can lift them and yourself to glory. How you showed that your were flawed, like every human being is flawed, but you chose to change that, you chose to battle your flaws, overcome them, and become an icon in the process. From being a bright individuality, you went on to lead and inspire people, you went on to make them and yourself better . You started giving back to your community and you became a leader that everyone respects, admires, adores, a legend both on and off the court. In my eyes, you became indestructible.
And today, when you cannot physically walk among us anymore, because of a devastatingly tragic accident, I say to you: I will never forget your legacy. I will never forget that Mamba Mentality. I will never take greatness for granted and I will remember that it was your extreme dedication and love for the game and for life itself that made you who you were. Your spirit, your charisma, your energy, your leadership and your passion will never die. That is why you will always, forever remain indestructible.
Thank you for everything, Mr. Basketball, and rest in peace.
