Sports means something different to everyone. Everyone has their own favorite team, their own memories of “where I was when…”, and that’s what makes sports great. No one person will feel the same about any one sporting event. We relate sports to our own lives, in our own way. It’s that uniqueness of experiences that brings all sports fans together, breaks down all barriers; white or black or brown, male or female, rich or poor, young or old — we are just sports fans.
Each year, we at GoingFor2, give our writers a chance to share that experience, that emotion, that ‘one thing’ that stood out above all else in the past year. The sports story that mattered to them — big or small. The following is one such story. Enjoy…
Scenario: You are sitting at work on a slow day (if that happens), and you crumple up a ball of paper. You stare expectedly at the wastebasket. You lift your arm, pull back, and follow through with your wrist. As you fire the paper ball, pretending it was made from Spalding, you yell this:
Kobe!
Kobe!
Kobe!
Kobe!
If you missed, you picked it up and did it again. If you made it, you blew air on your hand like Kobe did when he was on fire.
I was lucky enough to watch the two greatest of all-time in Michael Jordan and Kobe Bryant. If you did too, do not take it for granted. Growing up in small-town Follansbee, West Virginia, I’d watch Kobe and the Lakers frequently with my grandfather. Who did he like? I had no idea. He was handicapped and was never able to speak English due to a stroke prior to my birth, but boy did we enjoy the time we had together watching the Lakers play. That Kobe/Shaq duo lured me in the same way as the Jordan/Pippen duo, and I’ve remained loyal to both teams since.
My grandfather died at the age of 79 in May 2014. That was the first major passing I’ve dealt with a close family member. The bond between me and watching the NBA had subsided. However, as years went on, I found out about Kobe’s final season and I was able to reinvigorate myself with that passion and pleasure of watching him play like before, spiritually keeping my grandfather and imagining him with me when KB24 made another jaw-dropping play even in his “elderly” age. Watching the final game, I openly admit I cried about Kobe’s retirement because that was another part of what felt like my grandfather left me.
The finalized, emptying feeling was on January 26, 2020. Someone informed me that Kobe had died. I laughed and said, “Don’t be playing games like that. That’s my icon.” To find that it was truthful, I nearly broke down then and there. The joys that those two human beings brought to my soul conjoined yet again, and much like the movies, I flashed back to all those instances. It is both a gift and a curse, but I’ll always take the bad to flashback with the good.
To me, it felt like I had lost another family member because of all the joy KB24 brought to me and my grandfather, but I’d have it no other way. For 2020, this is why the passing of Kobe Bean Bryant was the most impactful sports story of the year for me. #KB24Ever
