i was with a regular physical therapy client on the sunday afternoon of january 26th, and like we do nearly every session, we talk about sports...particularly boxing, american football and basketball.
i had just seen a few video highlights of kobe’s daughter gianna playing and i glowingly talked about how good she is and how much she resembles her dad and how crazy and cool it was to see another video of kobe teaching x’s and o’s and defensive schemes to a group of 13 year old girls as if they were seasoned pros….’a little difficult to understand but you guys are smart’, kobe says in a matter of fact way.
i was dying laughing.
i went so far as to say that ‘she could be the first female to play in the NBA’ and that i would be the first in line to buy her jersey.
i thought about how exciting it was to watch her develop and evolve into another kobe and excited for what the future might hold for the both of them as a team. such a small sample but so insanely beautiful to watch the two of them in this capacity...just really beautiful!
i wrapped up with my client, left the apartment and jumped into the elevator.
as soon as i entered the elevator, my client that i had just left called me on my phone...i was worried something had happened or maybe i had forgotten something, so i answered the call and said ‘what’s up?’. my client said firmly ‘bro, kobe’s dead’.
the elevator doors closed and i immediately hung up the phone. a little confused and in disbelief thinking that it was most likely a stupid rumor...i started googling ‘kobe bryant’ on my phone as soon as i got out of the elevator and saw all the headlines.
my knees went totally weak and buckled as i hunched over my phone staring at the reports. it was a fairly active apartment complex lobby and people saw me fall to the floor while the doorman rushed to help me up asking me if i was okay and all i could say is that ‘kobe is dead’…i got up and rushed home.
over the summer, i saw recent videos of Kobe often wearing a particular pair of his signature sneakers and thought about getting them. months later, i saw a video of his daughter GiGi and her team wearing them during a game they played and i immediately went to nike.com and tried to buy them, but were already sold out, so i scoured the internet trying to find them at the regular price and finally did, luckily.
when i received them in the mail, i excitedly opened the box and tried them on. i wore them around my apartment and thought to myself...'i really love them but i dont need another pair of sneakers'.
i missed the return window procrastinating on whether i should keep them or not, so i held on to them for awhile and eventually listed them for sale on a popular sneaker buying/selling platform called stockx. they were sold for less than i paid for them, but i packaged it up and sent them out.
a few weeks or so later, they were sent back to me without explanation, so i emailed the company asking for an explanation and they told me the sneakers didn't meet the standards of 'brand new'...mind you, i only tried them on around the apartment.
months later (december), i re-listed them and they eventually sold. i sent them out on new years eve and again, they were sent back to me around the 3rd week of January...the week of my 42nd birthday.
i thought to myself...
'well...the Sneaker Gods must want me to have them for some reason.' but i simply put the unopened box aside in a corner and thought nothing of it being content with having them.
a week later, when i got the tragic news that sunday afternoon...i rushed home, i cried, i wept, i watched a ton of reports and reactions and like i do almost every other day...started watching my favorite Kobe videos on youtube.
i felt so compelled to play basketball after a few hours of non-stop crying, so i pumped up my basketball, already draped in nike gear...remembering i have a new pair of Kobe's, i opened the box and it was almost as if the sneakers were glowing. i tagged them up with a black sharpie... 'rip kobe', 'mambacita' 'mamba mentality' (i could care less if they are now 'worthless' after writing on them)...and went out in the dark bitter cold and played for 3 hours with just a bit of light kissing the court from a street lamp that barely lit up the left 3rd of the court and basket.
i must have played basketball a total of 10 times in the last 10 years or so...let alone play outside at night and in the freezing cold...something i probably haven't done since high school but something i always used to do when i felt sad or angry.