Goodbye Kobe
Your impact on my life was profound.
Kobe and Gigi
By Jamie Mah @grahammah
I was at home with friends last night. Playing records and drinking whisky. It was my Saturday night with the guys, something that’s sort of become a routine of late. It felt nice. It always does.
In the background, my TV was on. Basketball was playing as it usually is. Between jokes and banter, I’d glance and see what the score was. Who was winning? I cared even if the teams playing weren’t my favourites. I’ve always loved watching the game. The quickness of it. The athleticism. The competition. It drew me in as a youngster and I’ve never looked back.
But even on nights like last, when I’m with friends and the game is on, I’ve often found myself missing my old friend. My comfort. I say friend in the proverbial sense as if I’d known Kobe Bryant personally, when if fact, the closest I’d ever come to meeting him was one night in March 2006, when I saw him play courtside in Toronto.
By friend, I mean, my connection to him felt that familiar. I’d spent a large chunk of my life with him, watching him perform what he loved so much. Through thick and thin, win or loss, I was there with him. I cared probably too much. But he was my guy. That’s what you do with friends, you stay with them, love them for who they are, flawed as they may be.
When he retired in 2016, the game felt different. Empty. I didn’t feel the same desperate sense of urgency to come home most nights to see the Lakers play as I’d become used to for the past 20 years. My friend was no longer there.
It’s weird thinking of someone this way. How a stranger can have such a large affect on your life. The joys they once gave you. The investment you made with them. You cared, and you wanted others to feel the same way, even though many did not. You rarely understood this. “But he’s so good. How can you not love watching him?” I’d often stammer to my friends.
He had his faults just as most of us do. Colorado was brutal. Phil Jackson’s book wasn’t ideal either. His obsessiveness with winning could coax the worst out of him. Sometimes I shook my head. But as one would with a friend, we accept their flaws. Forgive the actions and hope good will prevail.
Kobe was a complicated man. I know this. As many people hated him as those who adored him. I get this. His Michael Jordan impersonation rubbed many the wrong way. His bravado just as much. But I had a sense that a lot that was an act. He seemed soft inside. Warm. Kind hearted. His love for his daughters showed much of that. Especially of late. He was a proud father. Supportive. Loyal. Present. I loved him for that. His passing today hurts more on that front than any other I can think of. For as much as I admired him as a basketball player, seeing him at Lakers games with Gigi or reading of him mentoring her at her school games and practices made me respect him even more for being just a Dad.
I don’t have a father and I’ve started to come to grips with how much that has affected my life. I never used to think it bothered me, but it has and does. I feel so bad for his surviving three daughters, especially his youngest two who are both under the age of four, as neither will remember much, if anything, of their legendary daddy. He is gone forever and there’s nothing that can change that. Oh how that sucks.
I miss my nights watching him play. I really do. Highlights on YouTube are wonderful reminders of his talent, and I revisit them often, but they’ll never replace watching him live. Life can be beautiful and hard at times and seeing him excel at something he truly loved inspires me to do the same. Respect of the highest regard for someone who puts in the work. As Kobe often said, “lace em’ up and let’s get to work.”
You sure did Kobe. You sure did. Your life, though cut short, was lived to the fullest. We never met, but I was your friend. I will miss you. May you and your daughter rest in peace forever. I look forward to telling those I love when I’m old about you. How you were a big part of my life for a time there. How we shared moments. Highs and lows. How I tried to care just as much as you did. Why I miss you each day.
His legacy on my life is that he showed me that if you try and push and work your tail off, you can achieve anything. When I’ve struggled with confidence or motivation, I’ve always gone to him.
“The most important thing is to try and inspire people so that they can be great in whatever they want to do.” — Kobe Bryant
You’ve succeeded Kobe. Thank you.
RIP my friend.
Jamie