KOBE
On the morning of January 26th, part of me died. My son, Michael, texted me, “Dad. . . Kobe died in a helicopter crash. I can’t believe it.” I could not believe it either. I did not want to believe it. Kobe was special to me, because Michael and I bonded over watching Kobe and the Lakers. I had my Magic, Kareem, Worthy, Coop, and the 80’s Showtime Lakers, but to bond with my son because of Kobe—that meant the world to me. Not to mention how special of a player he was. I’ve been reading stories of how he impacted lives and became a family man, especially after his moral failure.
Below is one of those stories that stood out to me. This is a story from Draymond Green during the 2016 finals (after Green got suspended for game 5 and ultimately cost the Warriors its championship to the LeBron led Cavaliers).
This story is poignant because you can get a glimpse into Kobe’s “mamba” mentality.
‘Kobe reached out to me… It’s almost like crying to your older brother like, ‘Kobe, I don’t know what to do, these people trying to take me out, police trying to take me out, the media is trying to take me out, everybody’s trying to take me out and I don’t know what to do’. It just felt like my career was caving in on me. ‘To get that call… he told me, he said, ‘Draymond, 99 percent of the world is okay with mediocrity, or worse. But, at best, mediocrity. You’re chasing something so much bigger that, how do you ever expect anyone to understand?’ ‘For me, that was all I needed to hear. Especially coming from a guy that I loved since I was a kid, that I have the utmost respect for, that I ended up building a relationship with. ‘That meant the world to me. Kobe said f*** everybody, just f*** everybody. I was able to hold on to that and rally and just keep going and build on that. ‘For me, Kobe was a real guy, a special, special person.’
Kobe’s word inspires me, because of his passion and relentless pursuit of something daunting and greater than himself. Kobe was a special talent, one of those who appears once in a generation. Kobe’s inspiration comes not only from his talent but his maniacal single-hearted devotion and discipline to something he was already extremely talented at. He pushed himself beyond the known limits and the accepted norms of possibilities. He was not willing to drown in mediocrity, and that mamba mentality inspired a countless number of the next generation of players and lives, including my son and Draymond. Jerry West who marked Kobe before anyone else and brought him to the Lakers said, “people talk about mamba mentality and all that. But Kobe didn’t have to create that. It was already there.” To use Draymond’s words, Kobe was “real and special,” because he exemplified pure dedication. His wasn’t just talk, he put in the work. I am seeing how being real and putting words into action appeals to the next generation. Being real and authentic simply inspires.
I am absolutely convinced that all of us—with no exceptions—have both mediocrity and brilliance in us. I reject the notion that some people are just mediocre while some are simply brilliant. To be sure, Kobe was both. While I am clueless about the percentage breakdowns, we all (as unrepeatably unique beings) have brilliance and excellence that is God-ordained. Our life’s journey is to uncover and discover the God-given brilliance and use this gift to inspire the world. Kobe operated out of his God-given brilliance and inspired the world in his own unique way. “The most important thing is to try and inspire people so that they can be great at whatever they want to do,” Kobe said. Brilliance emerged out of mediocrity is the true brilliance.
[I have a special treat for you… I am also sharing Michael’s letter to Kobe, with his permission, of course. His is all heart. So read on.]
Dear Kobe,
I never thought that a celebrity death would hit me as hard as this did. I grew up watching you on my TV and for 20 years I followed your every move. If I couldn’t watch the game, I checked your stats just in case you did something that only Kobe could do. Like put up 81 points in a single game. Nothing seemed impossible for you and that’s what captivated me and millions of others.
I write this as a personal letter because aside from my dad, you inspired me and undoubtedly a whole generation to start playing basketball. As a dinky Asian child on the court, it felt silly to be out there by myself, practicing your pivots and fadeaways and pretending to be you in clutch moments. Hyping myself up to an imaginary Staples Center after nailing a pull-up jumpshot on probably my 3rd or 4th attempt on that janky outdoor court with nobody else to be seen. But as silly as it seemed, you were that guy that made it seem possible. Mamba mentality.
When I was in high school, I was mulling over quitting the basketball team after seeing that everyone was bigger, faster, stronger, and just flat out better than me. But I saw an interview after the finals where you encouraged Adam Morrison of all people, saying that he was an integral part of the team even though all he did was ride the end of the bench day after day. And that oddly encouraged me to keep playing.
Of course after your death, life seems pretty surreal. I’m taking time to appreciate every close relationship that I have and holding on to this perspective and trying to bring it into all other areas of my life. Most importantly I am reexamining the missional calling of Christ. When life just abruptly ends like that, even more so when one of your heroes just leaves the earth so suddenly. What really is the purpose of this one life we have to live? Is it not to make much of Christ’s name and to take his name to places and lives where we are called? Kobe you inspired me and millions of others in profound ways, but what is the point of all of that if we don’t use that inspiration for things that truly matter while we’re living on this earth.
You were far from a perfect man Kobe, everybody knows about your stumbles. but you inspired us with your work ethic, drive, passion, and mentality. So thank you. Thank you on behalf of me and many many others. Thank you Kobe Bean. Truly an incredible loss of an incredible human.
Michael Hesed Kim
