Thank You, Kobe

By Benjamin Holcomb
The end of a road can make even the most hardened among us nostalgic. Kobe Bryant has been in the NBA since I was four years old. I’ve written a hundred essays about his place in basketball history, but as his eighteenth and final season draws to a close this year, I want to take a moment to explain why Kobe Bryant transcends sport.
Most well adjusted men stop idolizing other men when they graduate high school — there’s a reason the guy throwing haymakers in the stands at NFL games is always the one wearing a jersey. Yet at twenty-four, I still hold Kobe Bryant as one of my idols in life for one very important reason: he dared to be great.
Early on in his career, Kobe made it known he wanted to go down as the greatest basketball player in the history of the sport. Most people would hear that and say, “hey, how about just winning an NBA title… or going to an All-Star game?”
But Kobe never backed down from it. Instead, he declared his goal, understood the insane amount of work that would have to go into achieving that goal… and proceeded to spend the next eighteen years of his life doing all of that work to make his dream a reality.
By all accounts, Kobe Bryant is not normal. Most would say he’s a little crazy. In Arash Markazi’s ESPN.com oral history of Kobe Bryant’s 81-point game, former Lakers scout Rasheed Hazzard had this to say about Kobe’s drive:
“I got a phone call from a blocked number the day after Labor Day. It’s 11 p.m., and it’s Kobe, and he wanted to know if I would help him on the court at 5:30 a.m. I told him I’ll be there, and I show up at 5:20 a.m. thinking I’m early, and he’s already in a full sweat. He had hired a guy just to stretch him that year and to show him different ways to do active warm-ups, so he had already done that and lifted weights. He’s in a full sweat 10 minutes before we’re supposed to meet and ready to go. That’s when I realized 5:30 a.m. meant 4:45 a.m. with Kobe. When we were done, he went and had a track workout. When he was done at the track, he had a core workout, and then I met him that night at UC Irvine to get some more shots in. I’ve never seen anyone work like that. His hunger to be the best is unmatched.”
That’s just one of countless stories regarding Kobe Bryant’s work ethic. Fifty years from now, this is what I’m going to remember most about him. It won’t be the fadeaways, NBA Finals record, or all-star appearances. It’s a lesson someone who’s never watched basketball - or better yet, his most ardent haters - can come to appreciate.
Who wants to be normal? We should all hope to be a little crazy in our own ways; so driven and so passionate about life we can’t be bothered by sleep or mediocrity.
There is nothing admirable about mediocrity. Apathy is one of the ugliest traits a person can have. I’ve seen so many people in my lifetime settle for “good enough,” because “great” was too hard, too time consuming, and too risky. I know all too well about the comforting feelings of working eight hours, lounging on the couch and going to bed early. It’s easier, and often in the short term, more enjoyable.
But you have one opportunity in life to do something extraordinary. There are seven billion people on this planet, and I have to believe every single one of us wants to transcend the ordinary. Failure is hard, disappointment is hard, and often times subconsciously, our biggest motivating factor is the avoidance of pain.
If emotions are a pendulum, I know wasting away the hours at work every day, watching TV, paying my bills on time and getting eight hours of sleep are all effective ways to ensure the pendulum doesn’t swing too far in the direction of pain.
On the other hand, proclaiming lofty goals, putting yourself out there and pursuing risky ventures are all things that carry a great possibility of the pendulum swinging violently in the direction of pain.
And so most of us make simple value judgments. Hour after hour. Day after day. Year after year. I know I’m more than guilty of this, but I don’t want to be — who really wants to be?
I will never find the adequate words to explain how appreciative I am of Kobe Bryant for providing me an example of someone who relentlessly pursued an extraordinary life. The best part about his story is that Kobe won’t go down as the greatest player ever, he might go down as about the eight or ninth. That’s the entire point, though. He wasn’t scared to fail. He knew he was the master of his own fate, and he worked as hard as he possibly could to make it happen. Because of all that, for Kobe Bryant, “coming up short,” means five NBA championships, one MVP, and status as a generational sports icon.
What’s important in all of this is that the only thing stopping any of us from duplicating Kobe’s success is ourselves. This isn’t an essay about fame, sports, celebrity or money. Kobe Bryant’s dream just happened to be “the greatest basketball player ever.” You get to define your dream.
Want to be the greatest mom ever? Want to be the top lawyer in your city? Want to help revitalize the parks in your community, or maybe start a small business? The path is the same. It will take years of hard work, sacrifice, and commitment.
But damn if that isn’t so much cooler and admirable than saying, “maybe next year.”
Kobe recently said, “friends come and go but banners hang forever.” He’s about to retire at the age of 38, and will spend the better part of the next fifty years enjoying life with friends and family.
Kobe isn’t a legend because of basketball.
Kobe Bryant is a legend because he had no interest in being “good enough.”
How many of us can say that about our own lives?
That we had a dream and worked as hard as we possibly could to achieve it?
I am convicted by that sentence every day.
It challenges me. It dares me to be better.
So, thanks Kobe.