Well, last night was definitely one for the books. And by books, I mean in the betting sense. Kobe capped off an incredible 20-year career in the most Kobe way possible, and the Warriors capped off an historic season with another win, that let me remind you is meaningless in the grand scheme of things unless they win a title. But let us not get ahead of ourselves, let’s take a moment to look back on the legacy of Kobe “Bean” Bryant.
Kobe, who was of course born a slave and won his freedom by beating his master in a game of H.O.R.S.E….. I’m sorry, he was born in Italy. He beat him in a game of Italian Stallion, also known as C.A.B.A.L.L.O. Shortly after winning his freedom, he immigrated to America in the trunk of a car delivering pizza. Which was later used as the inspiration behind Fiat’s commercials.
Kobe initially had trouble integrating with some of his peers in the Philly suburb he called home. It was predominantly Irish and Dutch-Americans and Kobe was, Italian.
*UPDATE* Kahleah Copper was taken with the 7th overall pick in the WNBA Draft.The Washington Mystics may have gotten the steal of the draft.
After pursuing an unsuccessful rap career Kobe decided to try his hand at the NBA. He was drafted by the Hornets with the 13th pick in the 1996 NBA Draft and subsequently threw a temper tantrum because he was “allergic to bees”. The state of N.C., having already had Michael Jordan 1.0, decided it would be best to allow Kobe to go play in L.A., a city which at the time had never had much success on the hardwood. Known for their beaches and porn, California was a perfect match for a young Kobe Bryant. He quickly became the second-fiddle to Shaq. They won some ‘ships, had a very public falling out, and even called each other out on rap tracks. Kobe was never going to recapture the success he had with Shaq, until he almost did. Kobe may be most remembered for his rape case, in which he was forced to pay the victim the royalties he received from any Lakers #8 memorabilia. Kobe, being the savvy business man he is, said “Fuck her, I’m changin’ my number to 24 and she aint gettin’ shiiiiit!” Applauded for this move, Kobe instantly became America’s sweetheart once again. It’s like he was reborn. He had shed the negative image of #8, a pariah, the rapist side-kick of Shaq. He was a new man, #24.
As #24 he won a pair of ‘ships, injured himself terribly three times, and continued winning the hearts of millions. All while never passing the ball. And that my friends is what I will remember most about Kobe Bryant. Whether donning #8 or #24, he never passed the ball. He didn’t think anyone on the court was worthy of playing with or against him. And he was right. Kobe was the man, he told his scrub-ass teammates that they sucked and they listened. He wanted to score as many points as he could, and he did. He didn’t care about his shooting percentage, he wanted to win. And the scum of L.A. loved him for it. When the Lakers acquired Dwight Howard, Kobe laid it out for him. Dwight was no longer the man in a small Floridian city. Instead, he was another guy who didn’t suck as much as Andrew Bynum, living in Kobe’s world. Kobe didn’t address him as Dwight, shit he didn’t address him at all. He told him from the door what his role on the team was, and that if he had any questions he could shove ’em up his ass. Unfortunately for Dwight, he didn’t care too much for winning and decided that he’d rather go elsewhere.
But Kobe didn’t give up. Even after he knew that the Lakers were straight trash he kept playing. Not for the accolades, but for the $25 million he was making every year. He loved the job he had. He was living the American dream. Not only was he at the pinnacle of his profession for many years, but he did it all while living his life the way he wanted to.
Now granted, some of this has been exaggerated for the purpose of this article. However, some of it is true. As a fan of basketball, I am going to miss Kobe Bryant. He was the last of his kind. A shooter that would chuck em up with reckless abandon. Watching his final game last night,and subsequently his press conference,(Well, watching the first half then chainsmoking cigs during the second half, catching the highlights on ESPN.) I realized a few things. 1. Kobe must have invested a significant amount in Rosetta Stone, and spent too many late nights watching Dora the Explorer on Netflix. 2. Kobe is, if not loved, then is at least respected by many of his peers. and 3. has been waiting for his final game his entire career. No ring, no award could have given him as much joy as shooting the ball 50 times last night, did. He never needed the green light to shoot, but last night he got it anyway. He woke up yesterday morning and told himself: “Today is the day you’ve been preparing for your entire life. You’re going to go out there and you’re going to shoot it EVERY chance you get! Do you hear me Kobe!? This game means nothing, your teammates mean nothing, your coaches mean NOTHING! The only thing that matters is scratching your itch one last time.” And dammit, he made it count. I mean scoring 60 was a nice bonus, and yes he could have taken a couple more shots. But the number that will stick out in Kobe’s head for the rest of his life is ‘4’. His number of assists. If I’m upset about him having that many, I know he is as well. Anything more than ‘0’ was too many. No one else deserved to touch the rock last night, no one. The Jazz should have just allowed Kobe to do what he wanted. And if I know Kobe, which I think I do considering my name is Colby Briant, he was going for ‘101’. He wanted that record.