On Nov. 29, 2015, the man who gave me the best representation of what a NBA legend is supposed to be, announced his retirement. I never saw the Golden Ages of the NBA when Michael Jordan played, or Larry Bird, Dr. J, Wilt Chamberlain, Patrick Ewing, and my favorite baller of all time, Ervin “Magic Johnson”. But when I sit down and talk to my children about my own NBA memories, I will talk about one person who embodies all these players, and that person is Kobe Bryant.
Kobe announced his retirement through a poem he wrote and released on Derek Jeter’s website, The Player’s Tribune, titled “Dear Basketball”. The poem was very heartfelt, sincere, and a little cheesy, but it made the reader really think about the importance of his legacy. I have the utmost respect for his tremendous heart and hustle on the court, but I have never liked Kobe as a player for many reasons.
Kobe Bryant is a selfish player, who is firm in believing that anybody but himself could turn a game around, and it is especially difficult to gain his trust. This atrocious past year has shown all these traits to an obnoxious extent.
In regards to his “coach” Byron Scott, who has become an irrelevant leader of a once storied organization, Kobe refuses to even allow this man to coach his failing athleticism in order to actually make Kobe a decent teammate. Instead, Scott allows him to start and do whatever he desires, which is to be the NBA’s world-renowned ball hog-- missing almost 70% of his field goals, and around 80% of his three-pointers.
Kobe can aggravate basketball fans with his attitude and style of play, but the fact of the matter is, the man is a for sure first-ballot-hall-of-famer, five time NBA champion, a top-10 player of all time, and played the game harder than any other professional athlete I have ever seen in my lifetime.
So without further ado, here is my ode to Kobe Bryant based on his own ode to the game:
From the moment
I started watching you play,
And shooting jumpers
Lots of missed shots
In the Great Lakers organization
I knew one thing was real:
I respected the hell out of you.
A respect so true I gave you my word
From my Knicks fanhood
To my hatred of the West.
As a pubescent idiot
Deeply a fan of ball
I never saw hope in New York.
I only saw Linsanity
Running away to Houston then LA.
And so I cried
I cried day in and day out
After every loss you gave the Knicks.
You asked for my hatred
I gave you the finger
Because your desire came with so much more.
I watched through the jealousy and hate,
Not because the Lakers called me,
But because YOU called me.
I did little to like YOU
Because that’s what you do
When someone hates you, you feel as
Alive as you could ever feel.
You gave a New York sports fan little hope
And I’ll always hate you for it.
But I can’t hate you obsessively for much longer.
This season has proven you gave it all.
Your team cannot take the pounding anymore
Your mind is no longer on the grind
But your body is absolutely telling you it’s time to say goodbye.
And that’s alright.
I’m ready to stop watching.
I want you to go now
So you can savor every loss you have left.
The good and the mostly bad.
You have saddened me with
All the game-winning shots.
And we both know, no matter what you do next
I’ll always be that sad Knicks fan
With the Ewing jersey
Thrown into a garbage can
Two championships is all we have
Ball in your hands.
1… 2… 3… 4… 5 Lakers Championships.
Will hate and respect you always,
Angelo Errico
