Oct 16, 2014; Anaheim, CA, USA; Los Angeles Lakers guard Kobe Bryant (24) is defended by Utah Jazz forward Jack Cooley (45) at the Honda Center. The Jazz defeated the Lakers 119-86. Mandatory Credit: Kirby Lee-USA TODAY Sports
Dear Kobe,
After hearing the announcement that you’ve decided to forego the rest of the season and have shoulder surgery, it made me think that it has to be almost over for you. I’m not sure the Terminator could come back from a torn achilles, fractured knee and a torn rotator cuff. I mean, I tore my rotator cuff 12 years ago and it still gives me trouble, not to mention two other devastating injuries. Though, if anyone could do it, it would be you.
It also made me think about your career, your legacy and your significance as a NBA player.
Throughout my years of NBA fandom, there hasn’t been a player I wanted to fail more than you. I wanted your teams to lose and lose badly. I wanted you to miss every shot you took. I wanted your opponent to drop a career high while you were guarding him. Yet, time and time again you didn’t let that happen. You rose to the challenge and dominated. And in the process you shattered records, set milestones and won five titles. This is why, despite my desire to watch you fail, you’re one of the players I most respect. My hat goes off to you, Kobe. You’ve had more than a career; you’ve built a legacy.
I turn 30 in a couple of months. I say this because it means I’m old enough to have followed your entire career. I thought the Lakers were crazy to have traded for you—Vlade Divac was such a sure thing—but as always, you proved me wrong.
Allow me to take a minute and list your achievements:
-5 time NBA champion
– 2 time Olympic Gold Medalist
– 2 time NBA Finals MVP
– 2-time scoring champion
– 17-time NBA All-Star
– 15-time All-NBA Team selection
– 4 time All-Star game MVP
– 2008 NBA MVP
– 12 time All-Defensive Team selection
– NBA All-Rookie Team selection
– NBA Slam Dunk Contest winner
– Youngest player (age 17) to debut in the NBA
Your name belongs mentioned among Michael Jordan, Larry Bird and Magic Johnson. You’ve reached that pantheon and it’s been incredible watching you play. For me, it’s equal parts frustration and amazement. For years, you and the Lakers tore the heart out of my Utah Jazz. It hurt, but all I could do was nod my head and congratulate. I’m also jealous because you’ve had a better career than any Jazz player. It hurts to write that, but it’s true. Hell, even Karl Malone jumped ship and joined you in a failed effort to win a title. And to be perfectly honest, I couldn’t blame him one bit.
The Hall of Fame has been calling your name for nearly 10 years now.
This time last year, I was living in Philadelphia—your hometown. I played pick-up ball at your high school, Lower Merion. I saw your retired jersey hanging in the rafters. I hung out and had conversations with your former opponents. In which, I heard the legends of you dominating high school ball and being far-and-away the best player in scrimmages at nearby St. Joe’s University.
Throughout your career, I watched you absolutely own an era. Outside of Tim Duncan, you were the best and most important player of the first decade of the 2000’s. I was there the night you airballed four shots against the Jazz in a playoff game your rookie year. Conversely, I watched you stomp all over my team repeatedly after that. I remember the 52 you dropped on the Jazz in 2006. I remember these plays:
I remember the clutch playoff performances, your ridiculous MVP season, the times I thought other teams had a chance to win, only to have you hit a dagger and smash those hopes. I remember cheering giddily when Raja Bell clotheslined you in game 5 of your series against the Phoenix Suns in 2006. More so, I remember standing with my mouth agape after you hit the winning shot the game before.
Not too long ago, NBATV replayed your 81-point game against the Raptors. I watched every minute of it knowing what was going to happen and still nearly lost my mind. You’ve always been a killer; “The Black Mamba,” is what I love most about you.
In fact, your competitiveness, drive, maniacal work ethic and desire to be great is what us Jazz fans respect most about you. We hate you with a passion, but would have loved you unconditionally had you donned a Jazz uniform.
While researching this article and thinking more about your career, it dawned on me that over nearly the past two decades the most significant games, stories and moments have somehow led back to you. You have always been so polarizing, so enigmatic and so frustrating, yet so incredibly great. Throughout nearly your entire career, you have been unarguably must-see tv.
That’s what makes you so special, Kobe. You’ve been a part of so many important moments, that have shaped the NBA and its landscape. Your significance as a figure is just as important as your playing career.
It’s been a pleasure watching you evolve. You’ve gone from a young phenom, to a ball-hogging, petulant brat that ran Shaq out-of-town, to a polished, unstoppable assassin, to an ageless wonder with five rings. Unfortunately, despite all the games you’ve won, Father Time is undefeated. And outside of a Derek Jeter-esque swan song next season, your career is all but said and done.
But what a career it has been. I can’t think of a team in any sport I loathe more than the Lakers. In fact, I coined the term “the only good Laker is a Salt Laker,” but I can’t help but have admiration for you. Due to that admiration, I’ve thought about what your life will be outside of basketball, because you’ve always been a competitor of the highest caliber. Something tells me, you’ll find another way to dominate.
You’ve cemented your legacy and etched your name in NBA history and conversations that will take place 50 years from now. I’ll miss rooting against you, but more so, I’ll miss watching you play. Thank you.
All my best,
Greg Foster, on behalf of Utah Jazz fans and The J Notes