Kobe and Me - NbaInsomniac's Blog

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Kobe and Me

Posted on September 3, 2013 at 02:18 PM.

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I thought I'd be happy. I was sure I'd find joy in the finality. Instead I'm saddened. I can't believe this. I'm going to miss Kobe Bryant.

Before I go on, I need to go back. Circa 2000, when I was rocking an Afro, loitering on stoops drinking cheap malt liquor. It was on those stone steps where "discussions" about who was the better player, Kobe or Allen Iverson rang out at decibels loud enough for the local authorities to be called upon more than once. Their styles contrasted. Kobe's acute understanding of the basketball nuisances, A.I.'s intuitive improvisation. The grace which omitted from Kobe's footwork versus A.I's homicidal handles which found new victims seemingly every trip down the floor. Their upbringings exaggerated their differences, Kobe's privileged life as a son of a former pro player compared to A.I.'s stereotypical struggle of young black men in the 80s and 90s. To love one was to hate the other. This was understood. It was accepted.

During these inebriated debates my allegiance firmly entrenched itself on the side of No. 8 from the Lakers. Though I was (and still am) a die hard Knicks' fan, raised on the physicality of Riley's Knicks and the creed they played by. No layups, hard fouls and hand check the hell out of everyone. I believed elbows to the face were as basketball as the alley-oop. Anthony Mason and Charles Oakley were my heroes.

Looking back it is strange that I gravitated towards Kobe's game. He didn't possess the qualities that intentionally drew me to the game of basketball. He was sleek and shiny, oozing with cockiness. But distant and ornery with teammates. He was as anti-Riley Knicks as you could get. Except his desire to win. And this misguided youth still cloaked in his sports innocence was mesmerized.

I remember Kobe assaulting and battering Western Conference shooting guards during the early 2000's and taking some sort of sadistic pleasure in the way he meticulously dominated them. Slicing drives, arching fade aways, snapping crossovers. One step. Blow by. Dunk. And then the nights of ungodly scoring. We know any schmo can cite Kobe's 81 vs Toronto, but there was oh so much more than that; 33 points in the second half against Orlando in March 1999. His unofficial snatching of the torch game against Jordan (while with the Wizards) when he dropped 42 by halftime en route to 55 in 2003. His own, though slightly less famous, double nickel game. His 40 points in 9 CONSECUTIVE GAMES streak. And who can forget Game 1 of the Western Conference Finals against the Spurs in 2001 playoffs when he dropped 45 while grabbing ten boards setting the tone for a LA sweep, kicking off the Shaq Kobe 3peat AND sent Pop and the Spurs scouring the league to find some sort of body that could at least stand in front of Kobe. I could recite Kobe's memorable moments one at a time, but this modest blog would then morph into a book.

I need to make a slight detour and let the record show my fandom never swayed from the Knicks. Not for one second. I didn't root for the Lakers (Except in 2002 when Jordan Baese and I had a bet regarding chores in the house for the rest of the summer on the Kings vs Lakers series. Lakers won in 7. Tim Donaghy baby!) But I eagerly switched into Kobe fanatical mode as soon as my Knicks were dumped from the playoffs. If they made the playoffs. I love the NBA too much to tune out once my team is eliminated. Kobe kept me invested. Plus you try watching Othella Harrington and Michael Doleac play 82 games. Lets see how long you until you find another outlet to supplement your basketball fix.

There was never one "a Ha!" moment which lead to the disintegration of Kobe and me, rather the relationship had a gradual decline. And the first dagger was the infamous Eagle, Colorado incident in 2003. Yes, I KNOW the charges were dismissed because his accuser refused to testify, but the shock of seeing Kobe's face on the front page of publications with words like "Rape" and "Sexual Assault" stunned me. The iconic Sports Illustrated cover "Kobe Bryant Accused" turned out to be a pivotal moment for me and my love affair with basketball. The romance was ending. And my innocence, in regards to ALL sports was over.

The 2003 season was a up and down one for Kobe. And me. He played such a schizophrenic game. (Its understandable, I mean he WAS on trial for rape). His shot attempts floated from game to game, as well as his aggressiveness. I struggled rooting for him. Things had changed. Before I celebrated his skills but now I found myself DEFENDING his character. A big difference. I felt every basket he made reaffirmed his innocence instead of showcasing his basketball brilliance. The fun was gone.

Then the Finals happened. And with it, the debut of The Kobe trap.

In case you aren't familiar with The Kobe Trap, grant me a minute to explain. The Kobe Trap is a defensive concept created by the monomaniacal mind of Larry Brown, coach of the Detroit Pistons at the time. Brown deployed his defensive strategy during the 2003 NBA Finals. Basically, you have Kobe's defender crowd him cutting off his vision impeding his passing, another defender shaded towards Kobe waiting to cut off blow bys and dribble drives. And, if you can believe it, a third defender to challenge his shots at the rim. Regardless of your basketball IQ you can figure out the best way to defeat The Trap is with ball movement and trusting your teammates. It was genius, not only was a huge flaw in Kobe's game exposed, it took his strengths, his competitiveness and his will to fight, and turn them against him. Kobe went 43-113 (38%) from the field and proceeded to shoot the Lakers out of a title.

After the Finals, Kobe and his fans eagerly awaited the 2004 season. The Lakers, after trading Shaq, officially become Kobe's team. The case in Colorado was dismissed. A new coach was hired and immediately banished the triangle offense promising to implement a system that would allow Kobe the freedom on offense he desperately craved.

The best laid plans of mice and men oft go astray.........

Kobe over the next 3 seasons slowly turned into a man I didn't recognize anymore. He changed his number to 24, shaved his head, and for one season he sounded like he was doing a bad Michael Jordan impression during his interviews. He openly despised his teammates, became a selfish gunner, demanded, THEN, rescinded a trade request. But the moment I could never forgive Kobe for, and what ultimately destroyed us, was Game 7 against the Suns

He quit. I don't give a damn what Kobe apologist write or his historical revisionism. I've watched Kobe play HUNDREDS of times in his career. Passivity, settling and unselfishness are words that would never accurately describe him, yet in the 2nd half of a Game 7 that's exactly how he played. Am I supposed to believe in the biggest game of his Post Shaq Pre Gasol years, he suddenly found basketball enlightenment? taking THREE shots and scoring ONE point (on a technical foul shot). He honestly thought running the offense through Odom and Co. was the best option? Spare me. Kobe averaged 35.4 PPG that season on 27 shots a game. In Game 6 of that same series he scored 50 points on 35 shots. No way I'm buying he was "trying to get others involved". As a Riley's Knicks disciple, quitting on your team was an unforgivable sin.

The disappointment I felt watching Kobe quickly swing the ball every time can't be described. He wasn't trying to be a playmaker. He was trying to prove a point. Failure in sports is forgivable. It's an inevitable part of the game. But to abandon your teammates is shameful. I became angry. I was betrayed. I felt I had invested so much into Kobe and every aspect of his life, buying his jerseys and sneakers. Hell I was waiting for his rap albums to drop. There wasn't a question in my mind Kobe's self titled debut "K.O.B.E." would have received 5 mics from the Source and sold a million copies its first week.

I quickly reversed my stance on Kobe. I didn't feel bad about it either, he wasn't the same player anyways. I became his staunchest critic. In our circle of NBA debates my venom spewed. My friends were shocked. Kobe wasn't the only one who had changed.

Kobe struggled for the next season and a half, lingering in basketball purgatory until a blockbuster trade brought Pau Gasol to LA. Gasol played the perfect first mate for Kobe. Gasol, quiet, reserved and patient contrasted Kobe's ever growing bristly and snarling personality. Me? I watched the Knicks as Isiah Thomas continued to play mad scientist with a roster of explosive and volatile players. The results were disastrous.

I watched from afar as Kobe and the Lakers reemerged as championship contenders. It was as if I was looking at a brother whom I no longer communed with. Pride wouldn't let me reach out, but love allowed me to be happy for him. While he struggled in a Game 7 against Boston in his building, on his way to a 6 for 24 game perhaps choking away a fifth NBA title. Kobe had an epiphany. He deferred to his teammates not out of anger, but out of trust. Kobe finally matured. And so have I.