Kobe Bean, In The Only Words I Could Find

It’s hard for me to even type. When I heard the news on Sunday afternoon that one of my role models and childhood icon had passed away I was in absolute denial. There were only two news reports early on and I probably refreshed my Internet page a million times. Another report. Another. More confirmations. For the first hour or so that afternoon I was shaking. Shock had taken over my entire body and I was speechless.

This can’t be real. Kobe? No way. Not Bean.

I was in shock and denial. I kept my emotions grounded. Then, a source adds another gut punch to us all: Kobe’s 13 year old daughter Gianna was also on board, along with John Altobelli, Keri Altobelli, Alyssa Altobelli, Christina Mauser, Sarah Chester, Payton Chester, and Ara Zobayan, who all lost their lives that morning.

Emotions: completely ungrounded

There’s so much to sort out on what Kobe meant to me. To my family. To my friends. I won’t be able to cover everything. This story is much bigger than basketball. Kobe was much more than the game. You’re telling me my childhood idol, my role model, a man who played such a big part in my love for the game and later on in life, is gone?

I don’t know how to put this: Kobe felt larger than basketball. Larger than life. He seemed invincible. I didn’t know he could die.

When I started this project back in June there was no way to believe I would be writing about someone I lost. Someone we lost. We all have our own story and Kobe Bryant was a part of mine.

My Dad was a Lakers fan growing up and loved telling me stories about Magic Johnson and the Showtime Lakers. When I was 8 years old he turned on a game featuring a skinny, confident, up and comer wearing that Laker gold. Number 8 seemed to glide through the lane with ease. His footwork was already a step above others. He was a high flyer and had a competitive fire that I had yet to witness night after night. I was hooked.

Among a variety of other things, there was never a question about Kobe’s unwavering confidence in himself. No matter the circumstances, the task at hand, the opponent - you name it, he believed.

I tried to do everything to imitate him. I had the shoes. The elbow band. The follow through. The footwork. The confidence.

Me and the old man were out one morning shooting hoops on the pavement. He rebounded countless hours for me but one thing always worried him - I loved to lower the hoop. At about 8 feet I could shoot from anywhere, imitate his drives towards the basket, and pull off his dunks I had seen the night before. My Dad had a patented line he would say half joking and half worried I’d go 1 for the century during our next game. While shooting on the lowered hoop he would always say “Don’t change your form Jacob!”

In true Kobe fashion I always smiled and said “Pop - 5 feet, 8 feet, 10, 12. It don’t matter. It’s going in.”

I could go on and on about basketball. It played a huge part in my life. In my friendships. In high school and in college. It taught me so much and I could never thank that orange ball and the game enough. Others came and went during my playing days and beyond but one thing was always constant: Kobe. My friends and I watched Kobe night in and night out for two decades. Two decades of that competitive fire, that will to win, that unwavering confidence in himself and his abilities backed by a relentless work ethic. He was our Magic. He was our Jordan. He was our idol.

And yet, through all of those games, all of those memories, all of those fadeaways, all of those days in the driveway, that’s not what I’m struggling with.

You see, Kobe Bryant’s life after basketball is what was inspiring to me.

It felt like I grew up with Kobe. Through his ups and downs, his triumphs, his defeats, and the closing of a chapter. But he was just getting started.

To see my childhood idol become a family man, a husband, a father, and role model to his daughters and millions of kids across the world was what inspired me. No matter what it was Kobe did things 100%. Whatever he set his mind too he worked at it relentlessly. That’s what he was doing after basketball. He was focused on becoming the best person he could be day in and day out to those around them. He coached. He taught. He mentored. He bonded. He inspired. I admired the way he cared for and loved his family.

There are numerous interviews where he is talking about his family, and specifically his daughter Gianna, that I will never forget. He was absolutely beaming. Those two seemed inseparable. The videos of them shooting around together, the pictures of them embracing and smiling, and the clip of Kobe taking a moment to teach an aspect of the game to Gianna are etched into my mind.

I cannot begin to fathom the pain those families are going through right now. I am absolutely gutted. To lose a father, a mother, a husband, a wife, a sister, a brother is unimaginable to me and I feel deeply for those who have been lost over time and in Sunday’s tragedy.

During several instances that evening I cried over the death of someone I had never met. It has absolutely shaken me. Kobe wasn’t just an athlete or a role model to me, he was a part of my journey. Seeing him at ease, at peace after basketball and focusing his time and energy on his family and fatherhood will forever guide and inspire me.

I will continue to strive to better a better person day in and day out. I will continue to tell loved ones how much they mean to me. Our time here is short and it can be sucked away from us at any moment, just like Sunday demonstrated. Live energetically, purposefully, and enjoy your moments. We lose family members and loved ones often before they truly understand how deeply we care for them. Don’t let that happen.

To Kobe Bean - Thank you.

Thank you for fueling my love of basketball. Thank you for demonstrating what hard work and determination can reward you with. Thank you for the memories both on and off the floor. Thank you for showing what belief in yourself can do. Thank you for being a role model. Thank you for showing us how to enjoy our moments. Thank you for the inspiration.

You will be missed.