Twelve hours after the last time Kobe stepped off the court, everything felt empty. The purple and gold, the Staples Center, the storied franchise of the Lakers — it all feels so empty. But it is not about the void we feel now. It is about the last time we saw one of the greatest competitors the game has seen walk into the place he called home for 20 years. Kobe said it best: “There is no way I could possibly imagine this happening.”

This season, as we all knew that Kobe’s time with us was coming to a close, many legends and individuals close to Kobe told stories about what kind of person he was. Some of the stories were humorous, like the fact that once, when he wanted the ball, he hissed like a mamba. But other stories included ones like when he was 11, he challenged the other professional players in his father’s league to games of H-O-R-S-E and one-on-one just because he wanted to show that he was the best out there. That tenacity and ferocity was something that never left Kobe.

One of the things that Kobe mentioned in his farewell speech was that his career should not be defined only by the five rings he won, or the seasons where the Los Angeles Lakers dominated every team they faced. It should be characterized in part by the years that were the hardest. The years where he was playing with a ragtag group of players like Smush Parker, Chris Mihm, and Kwame Brown would have broken anyone's spirit. In these years, Kobe could have jumped the ship, moved elsewhere, created a super team, etc. Kobe defined what it means to be loyal to an organization. Kobe fought through the hard years and marched forward. This loyalty, coupled with the desire to win and compete harder than any other player, could be defined by only one term: the #MambaMentality

Focusing on that last night, everything felt surreal. It felt as if Kobe had been sandbagging the whole year and really just saving everything up for this one moment. Kobe was just himself during his final game. From the reverse layups to the mid-range fadeaways to the impossible 3-pointers, it was as poetic of an end as I could have imagined. Hitting the go-ahead shot to beat a team is the most Kobe way to end a game.

Growing up, I was not the biggest Kobe fan. I actually hated watching him play. After the Steve Francis-led Houston Rockets lost to the Lakers 4-1, I disliked everything about that team: the cockiness, the arrogance, the way they carried themselves. They weren’t trying to be your friend. Every time they stepped on the court, they wanted to destroy you and remove any hope you thought you had in your heart. Today, however, these are the qualities I wish I saw more often (except Russell Westbrook — he is a killer). When Lebron said that he wished he was on a team with four of his best friends, it made me think, is that what Kobe would have done? Hell no. Kobe is not that buddy-buddy, trying-to-have-a-good-time-at-work dude. Kobe is all business. During the press conference Kobe mentioned how, although this was an incredible way to end his storied career, he wished he could have ended his career by winning a championship. That’s all you’d ever need to know about him: his unparalleled desire to win.

Old basketball fans always say that we will never have another Michael Jordan, Magic Johnson, Larry Bird, Bill Russell, and Kareem in the league. This is because watching a player with your own eyes is what makes the experience different. We measure greatness not by the stats we see on a paper, but the player we see with our eyes. While every player is unique and different in their own way, some players will leave their legacy forever. When I am 55 years old sitting in a chair trying to toss a wad of paper, the only word that will come out of my mouth as I shoot into a trashcan while sliding my chair backwards will be… “KOBE!”