We've all most likely heard of the Mamba, A.K.A. Kobe Bryant. Some would call him fearless, others a basketball genius, a leader, but most would stick with the word, legend.
I'm sure we've all heard these words mumbled around over the past five months as one of the most well-known basketball players finishes his twenty year career.
I must be honest, I was never truly a fan of the Mamba. I always thought Kobe was "overrated," but that was until the generation of sports stars I grew up watching all slowly started to retire (Peyton Manning, Calvin Johnson, McKayla Maroney, now Kobe just to name a few in 2016 alone).
For Kobe Bryant, the NBA (National Basketball Association) has been his whole life. He was drafted straight into the league from high school at only seventeen years old (even though he has admitted to wanting to play under the best coach in NCAA, Mike Krzyzewski, as a Blue Devil; the greatest team ever in my opinion). Two decades later, Bryant has made his last pass, hit his last three pointer, and saluted his last crowd of adoring fans.
At the Los Angeles Lakers' Staples Center, it was Kobe who bonded together a team that would win five NBA championships. The Mamba was named an All-Star 18 times and scored over 30,000 points.
The above, breaking down the numbers into statistics, is the easy path. We all have seen the remarkable achievements that Kobe has made. We have all compared him to those who came before him to determine his place in NBA history. Honestly, that would be slightly unfair to him.
In sports, statistics are everything. They're a compass, pointing to greatness. Yet, as far as Kobe's legacy is concerned, stats are hardly enough.
It's that of an individual who found a game he loved, gave everything he had to offer to it, and allowed the rest of the world to come along for the ride.
Thank you.
Two words, but powerful. Thank you for the last twenty years and giving it, and your fans your all. Thank you for showing everyone that you can't achieve greatness by simply relying on talent alone. Hard work, toughness, determination, and the desire to become a better player; these are what take the game to the next level. These things separate any player from the rest. They are what fans remember most.
More often than not, we watch great players try to compete against Father Time. They do not realize that their bodies can no longer handle the physicality. As a result, they stay in the sport longer than they should, essentially tainting the legacy in which they'll leave. Kobe was partially smart enough to know that the time was right to call an end to his career.
It's allowed all of his fans to enjoy the final season with him. To fully acknowledge the player he was, while not getting caught up in the player his beat-up body would have forced him to become. The Lakers may end the season at the bottom of the Western Conference standings, but to his fans, he's still going out on top, but on his own terms.
The game of basketball will miss Kobe. The fans will miss him. My generation will miss him.
Thank you, Mamba, for more than just what the statistics show.
While I was never a fan, I can acknowledge what's in front of me: a great basketball player is retiring, whether I like/support him or not.
Farewell, Mamba.
