I’m probably the last person you would imagine to be struggling with the death of Kobe today. Honestly, I’m surprised myself. So why is this white, rural living, mom so distraught?
Some have written about Kobe being a hero. I disagree. At least, that’s not who he was to me. The heroes, they were the firefighters from the U.S. that died in Australia last week and the U.S. soldiers that lost their lives in Afghanistan this month. They are the teachers, nurses, and the countless first responders, like the ones who were on scene for the horrific helicopter crash. They are the heroes. Kobe instead, to me, is a legend and today represents something so close to me. He was human.
The only other celebrities you will probably ever find me emotional about are Mister Rogers and Peyton Manning. I love sports but love education more. I firmly believe that as a society we are putting money and clout into the wrong places, but today, I’m grateful for the awareness that the death of Kobe hopefully brings.
I’m 37 years old. Kobe was 41. Growing up I spent a lot of time alone on the weekends or with my little brother. We were required to entertain ourselves. I spent hours playing horse and shooting hoops in the driveway, never even thinking of playing rec ball because of my height (still only 5 foot 1 inch) and tiny stature. But out there, against myself, or my little brother, I felt challenged and free. I started watching more basketball on the weekends, loving the fast-paced exchange. Kobe was starting to come into the limelight and I remember watching in awe as he was drafted out of high school, despite naysayers that thought he should go to college and said he wouldn’t make it. He had a level of confidence, and maybe even an arrogance, that was magnetizing. He made it, and more.
I loved watching him play. Determined and focused, he had a finesse and passion for the game. Years later, playing against students on a whim, I’d yell ‘Kobe’ as the ball swished through the net. Kobe was my generation. He represented an elite physicality that few possess. He did it with a smile. Kobe was legendary because of the records he broke, the championships and the Olympics he won. Notably, Kobe even died in a legendary way, the day after his record was broken by his friend (who he gracefully and enthusiastically congratulated) and on the day the Grammys would be held in his home arena.
Despite his legendary stature, Kobe was human. That came through when we watched him play, in the mistakes he made (both professionally and personally), in how he interacted with his daughter on the sideline. That is the first lesson. We are all human. Despite elite health and all of the money in the world, Kobe, as legendary and larger than life as he was, could not dodge or dictate the end of his time here. Many are writing to hold your loved ones tight and treasure the moments and that is all true. I hope that additionally we all remember to be kind and that we are ALL human and the one thing we have in common is that none of us can predict when our time comes.
