Dear Kobe:
Not long ago I received your letter entitled “Dear Basketball.” In those lines I could understand everything. I met your fears, your recurring questions, your doubts as a forced transition to certainties. But I also knew about your willingness and character to push boundaries. Reframing concepts, understanding that the only evolution that exists is the product of effort. Of tenacity and persistence. I learned about the road traveled, I understood what it meant to leave everything behind for an idea. Only the one who falls in love as you have lived life to the fullest. He who is willing to march against storms without a shield, to embrace uncertainty and give himself body and soul to an overflowing passion.
Since you were only six years old and threw socks in your father’s trash, I knew you were destined to be what you were after all. Your goal was my goal. You gave me your mind, your soul and your body. You have won a lot and you have also lost. Often times you wanted to throw in the towel, drop everything and start over. But you didn’t. And that’s why I feel like you never let me down. I demanded effort from you, I asked for sacrifice, and you gave me joy again. Every day you thought of a miracle: seeing yourself grow was a unique privilege. Push the bar up an inch to outdo yourself. Hug those who were next to you so that they make an effort to reach you. Evolve to always be first in line. Force rivals to chase you.
You were talent, but not only that: Kobe Bryant, you were the fire. My fire. That which is born, grows, shines but never dies. That has no time or place. A spark so intense, so pure, that he knew how to seduce friends and strangers. That it infected the one standing next to it, that the one standing before it frustrated. It was not just what you did, but how you did it. Dilated pupils, lynx acuity, stiff jaw and clenched fist. Everyone wanted it, but only you could have it.
A year has passed since you left. I’ve seen your older brother Michael cry a lot. I heard Shaq reminded you with a sadness that moved me. The fragility of existence was never more present than in those days of disillusionment. But tears aside, I could also see the awakening: In a match that seemed lost, AD shouted your name to heaven after his prayer turned three-time winner in the last second. Even LeBron himself has fought for your legacy like no other. He gave himself completely to defend your essence, your message, to make the Lakers, your family, everyone’s team for a few months. To complete the circle of time and for redemption to become skin.
2:27
A story full of success that made him one of the historic players in the NBA.
Dear Kobe, let me confess something to you: I really don’t think you said goodbye to us. I still feel you close, next to me, with tense thighs telling me that this game, our game, is still being played. That there is still time on the clock and that only those who don’t try to give up the fight. That it doesn’t matter physically whether the mind stops. When the soul walks, the flame will never go out. You live, dear son, in every child who starts out and chases a dream, in every fanatic who sweats your shirt in a stand, in every rookie struggling to be, at least for a little while, what you once were.
Father, who was Kobe Bryant? 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
Sit down dear son: I have a great story to tell.
With everlasting love
The basketball.