Growing up in 1980s in Los Angeles, Showtime was it. Magic, Kareem, Worthy, Michael Cooper… the Lakers owned the LA sports scene. Even Inglewood- where Showtime was housed in the Fabulous Form- seemingly overcame it’s hard-scrabble surroundings to be known as the “City of Champions.”
Then there was a bit of a dark period: the light of Showtime dimmed considerably. Lakers of my youth were humanized, brought back down to earth. After winning 5 titles from 1979-1988, all of a sudden Showtime was a thing of the past. One by one those heroes of my youth- legends of the game- stepped aside as the game went on. I grew up, went to college and moved away from LA.
And then along comes this kid. I mean a kid, 18 years old, straight of high-school. But this kid- arrogant and cocky as he was- seemed wise beyond his years. A student of the game and already more worldly than many twice his age. But it took a few years, and some growing pains. As he honed his game to adjust from playing with boys to competing with men, he learned to be a better teammate, and elevated the already dominant Shaq to another level. Then coach Phil Jackson brought his championship pedigree to LA just like that, it was the Lake Show all over again. They had moved out of the City of Champions, but the Staples Center in downtown LA put Showtime front and center in the NBA landscape again. After an absence of titles for twelve years, they ripped off three straight championships. Then the cast of characters changed (Shaq departed for South Beach), and the kid struggled with some injuries. He wound up winning another two championships with the Lakers, and somehow, out of nowhere it seemed the kid was man- he retired at the age of 37. Storybook. A true champion. If only life was lived on the court alone.
I start the story this way, to show how Kobe Bryant, a charismatic kid and an amazing talent can bring men older than them back to their youth. Watching Kobe and Shaq and Phil win those titles put me right back in it- when these were gods on the court, and how lucky we were to bear witness. How does a grown man, look up to some one a few years their junior? That was the kind of generational talent Kobe Bryant was.
When my wife shared the news with me yesterday that Kobe had suddenly and tragically died, I felt an immediately pang of shock- only to be brought back to earth by what his off the court legacy did to tarnish everything he accomplished. Not erase it, but this kid- this man- was no longer deity amongst mortals. His actions showed him to be human at its most fallible and cruel.
It’s well documented that in 2003 when Kobe was rehabbing an injury, was arrested and wound up standing trial for sexual assault. No longer a kid himself, in the eyes of the law or experience, his victim was 19. Not a kid in the eyes of the law either, but by any other measure certainly not an adult. And if you need a refresher, this article from The Daily Beast does that and then some. The criminal case wound up being dismissed, a civil case settled out of court- and in the eyes of many Kobe was exonerated. And not only that, but to detriment of his victim. I can’t sit here and say that 17 years ago, I didn’t doubt the victim. That I wasn’t happy that Kobe would be back on the court doing what we all wanted to see him do. But the innocence was gone for sure, and my eyes as a grown man myself were opened wide. But even as late as yesterday morning, before I knew of Kobe’s demise I don’t recall shedding any tears, metaphorical or otherwise for the victim. I’m not going to rewrite my own personal history in light of the #MeToo movement to try and prove what a fantastic ally I am.
The past day or so, the news cycle has been what one would expect of “too-soon” death of a sports icon. Millions mourning the man, the kid we remember that magically transported us back in time. Fewer, though no less important by any means, have taken up arms to remind us of what his legacy truly is beyond sport. Arguments have ensued over whether or not bringing up the rape allegations was proper given the man had just perished (so too we learned had his 14 year old daughter). I found myself, not defending him, but hoping against hope that he had come to terms with what he had done, that he had strived to make himself a better man because of it. I pointed to the fact that he was an extremely hard worker when it came to the game, and that I would hope he applied that same dogged nature to self-reflection.
But let’s face it, you’re not going to hear me talk that way about Harvey Weinstein, Matt Lauer, Bill Cosby or even Louis CK (of whom I was a big fan before stories of his disgusting nature came to light). Those guys deserve any societal ostracizing and backlash that comes there way. So why does Kobe get my hope of redemption? Is it because those other guys are on public record of being repeat offenders, serial abusers of power and station? Or is it because Kobe for whatever reason still has a magical quality about him for allowing me to ease into adulthood while recapturing a tiny bit of my youth. I’ve written before about how crazy and stupid sports fandom is, but the emotional component is a strong one. And it’s really fucking confusing for someone like me who likes to think of himself as a pretty straight-thinking person.
I’ve taken part in quite a few discussions- online and off- about Kobe the past day plus. And I’ve been very honestly able to side with those mourning his legacy as basketball player, and with those waking us up to the harsh reality of his past transgressions. To so many who knew him personally, he was a good person, great father and husband following his terrible, destructive behavior on that night in 2003. And I don’t know what is proper, or what should or shouldn’t be talked about in the wake of a man’s death. I will say however, to a large extent we can control what that narrative will be while we’re still around. While we can’t retry the case against Kobe Bryant, do a great disservice to survivors of sexual assault by keeping mum about it for propriety’s sake.
Honestly, if his crime happened in 2018 instead of 2003, we wouldn’t even having this debate. Kobe probably never laces up for a game ever again after his trial- dismissed charges or not. But it happened not in this climate, and time has given us the opportunity to forget a little. So I’ll always remember Kobe for what he was: a tremendous talent and shining light to many- including for me for a time. But also as a man who made a terrible decision that had detrimental affects on the life of his victim. As a human. Imperfect as any of us.