You know the feeling you get when you’re waiting to see your favorite band in concert? You’ve never seen them before, and they’re the headliner, so that means you have to sit through one or two – maybe even three other bands before they finally take the stage.

That’s the feeling I had from the minute I learned Kobe Bryant was retiring this year. I knew I had to see him when he came through Milwaukee, no matter how much the ticket cost me. It was the last chance I would ever have.

So, I watched and I waited. There was an irrational paranoia that over me, forcing me to constantly check in on The Black Mamba to see if he was healthy—to make sure he would hold together at least until the end of February.

Kobe’s never been one of my idols. I’ve championed LeBron James as the best player in the league since I was old enough to have an opinion. There’s still something that sets Kobe apart for me, however, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. There’s an air of superiority that surrounds him and makes him more special than any athlete. Maybe it’s because we don’t see him outside of the basketball court that often. You don’t turn on your TV and see Kobe doing many advertisements, and his lack of exposure only adds to his mystique. It gives off the impression that the hardwood is his only domain -- our only chance to get a glimpse of him. It only expands his aura as one the most intense competitors of all-time.

I’ve seen LeBron in his prime, Kevin Durant during his MVP season and Kevin Garnett at the height of his powers. I watched from the stands as Alex Rodriguez hit his 400th home run, witnessed Randy Johnson and Roger Clemens take the mound, sat in amazement as Ken Griffey Jr. dug into the box, and wistfully stood behind the centerfield wall at Target Field to observe my childhood hero, Derek Jeter, get a hit in the final at-bat I would ever see him take in person. Still, there is something that makes Kobe stand out above the rest.

Kobe has been driven by a burning desire to claim the throne as the greatest basketball player of all-time since he came into the NBA in 1996. He didn’t quite get there, by my goodness, he came close. Kobe was a killer; a true savage on the basketball court. Kobe would strip the ball from a small child and then rush down court to posterize his own grandmother if it meant winning a basketball game, and that’s why we love him. I don’t remember watching Michael Jordan play, though I know I used to watch games with my grandparents, but I did get to watch Kobe rip opposing fans’ still-beating hearts out and step on them, all on live television (I was one of them in 2010). I have never seen anyone so hell-bent for greatness, nor have I ever seen anyone so sure of his own greatness (besides Kanye West, of course). He’s the closest thing to Jordan that we have ever seen, and I don’t know of anyone else quite like Kobe.

I ended up spending more to see the Lakers, a team that has 11 wins on the season as I write this, than I shelled out for my last four Bucks games combined. You’d think after spending an exorbitant amount of money on a basketball game with no playoff implications I would have had floor seats, but I’m still a little surprised my ears didn’t pop and my nose never bled from the sheer altitude of my seat in Row X, Section 420. None of that mattered to me. I was in the building. I was going to see the Mamba.

I got there early and waited anxiously to watch warmups. I’ve never been more excited just to watch someone run out of an arena tunnel before, and when the Lakers finally came jogging out with Kobe hobbling along the rear, I couldn’t help but think that he reminded me of Jake Taylor in Major League; just squeezing one more year out of his tired body (If that reference doesn’t make sense to you, think of Bill Murray in Space Jam. If neither reference makes sense, please climb out from whatever you have been living under and watch my two favorite movies).

My eyes stayed glued to Kobe throughout the warmup, as if I was afraid he was going to pull a Benjamin Button and throw down a windmill slam as soon as I looked away. The 19-year-old Kobe could have pulled this off with less effort than it takes me to get a few inches off the ground for a layup. I was there to watch the 37-year-old model though, so I settled for watching him stretch and knock down a few half-hearted warmup jumpers.

Player introductions are always my favorite part of the fan experience at a sporting event. The lights go out and the highlight reel starts rolling on the scoreboard. This game had easily the most special pre-game introduction I’ve ever witnessed. The first four Lakers were announced and then there was a dramatic pause, which left the arena buzzing with anticipation. A video popped up on the jumbotron, featuring Jason Kidd’s commentary over a highlight reel filled with Kobe’s iconic moments. “Thank You Kobe” was plastered all over every piece of electronic signage in the whole building. At the conclusion of the video came the PA announcer:

“Two-time finals MVP. Two-time Olympic gold medalist. 18-time all-star. And the third-leading scorer in NBA history. Ladies and gentlemen, number 24, KOOOBEEEE BRYYYYANNNNNT!”

Kobe walked out onto the court waving to everyone as Wiz Khalifa’s “See You Again” played in the background, and that’s when it really hit me. I actually felt like I was about to tear up just taking in the moment. The Bradley Center was just as loud at this point as it was when the Bucks took the Bulls to overtime in game three of last year’s playoffs. At that moment, I just thought, “Wow. Will I ever get to experience anything like this again?”

Probably not.

The game itself didn’t have any spectacular results for Kobe. Everyone in the building was secretly hoping that Kobe would turn in a special performance, even if that meant watching the hometown team lose. Kobe shot just 3-for-12 on the night and he scored eight of his 15 points off free throws that he probably shouldn’t have had. He was definitely getting some “lifetime achievement” foul calls from the referees.

Bucks young forward Giannis Antetokounmpo actually stole the show from Kobe, notching the first triple-double of his budding career. The Greek Freak made highlight play after highlight play, exploding to the rim for powerful dunks and swatting several opponents’ shots. Kobe has talked about how great Giannis could be in the future, and I think the 21-year-old forward has a little Mamba blood in him. He’s starting to realize he can dominate games, and I can’t help but think that in 15 years or so, another college student may pay a ridiculous amount of money to sit in the top row of an arena during his final season.

My experience with Kobe Bryant was just like going to see an aged musician perform. Sure, his voice might be a little raspier than you remember and he might not move around on the stage very much, but every once in a while he hits a note just right during your favorite song. It’ll make you take a step back and think to yourself:

“This is real. I just got to see this in person.”

Yes, Kobe hobbles around a bit and he doesn’t play many minutes. He doesn’t dunk on opponents anymore and he air balls more shots that you’d think possible for him, but every once in a while, he starts backing down his opponent and turns for the fadeaway in classic Kobe style. The shot rips through the net and you see a little of his old swagger return as he trots back to play defense.

“This is real. I just got to see this in person.”