It's sure to be emotional Monday at the Staples Center in Los Angeles, where Bryant fans, Lakers fans and celebrities — an A-list cast by even Hollywood standards — will pack the arena to remember one of their own.Astronomers say when the biggest stars die they become supernovae, shining brighter than the Milky Way and capable of spurring the formation of other stars. Bryant was one such supernova. "A 6-6 guard from Lower Merion High School" in Pennsylvania, he joined the NBA in 1996 as a child. Over 20 seasons, he won five championship rings and forged an extraterrestrial reputation as a suffocating defender and one of the greatest scorers to ever bounce a Spalding. Though his playing career ended in 2016, his drive and passion never waned. In bidding the game he loved farewell, he wrote a short film that won an Oscar. He poured his retirement into his family, his production company and his Mamba Sports Academy, where the formation of young stars is part of its mission. The trifecta forms the foundation of Bryant's legacy, which since his death has become its own universe. Meanwhile, the tears and remembrances — from fans, fellow players and those he lifted up — haven't stopped.
His death stunned the world
Bryant was stolen from this Earth on January 26 when a helicopter carrying him, daughter Gianna and seven others to a competition at his Newbury Park academy crashed into the Santa Monica Mountains in Calabasas.He'd planned to coach 13-year-old Gianna's team that day as part of his post-career goal of empowering the next generation and instilling in them his storied Mamba mentality. When his vision was cut short that Sunday, the world stopped — first in incredulity, then in sorrow. "This can't be!" morphed into "How, how, how?" Tears fell from Lower Merion to the streets of L.A. and beyond. Tributes arrived from Argentina, the Philippines, the Australian Open and all over Europe, Africa and Asia. In China, his death topped trends on Weibo, the social media platform, briefly outpacing posts about coronavirus. Perhaps not since Prince has the world so collectively and deeply mourned one of its beloved. And as with Prince, the legacy Bryant leaves behind is complicated. It's easy to recall the times he shined, but there were also dark moments that left his faithful struggling to reconcile a dichotomy that's inherent in all humans but especially visible in those who spend their lives on stage.
He was a baller in everything he did
Every generation has its GOAT. They tend to go by one name. Before Kobe, the NBA had Kareem and Jordan. Now, LeBron. Of the 11 numbers the Lakers have retired — among them, Kareem's, Worthy's, Wilt's, Magic's — two belong to Bryant: the No. 8 he wore in his early days with the Lake Show and the No. 24 he resurrected from high school for the latter half of his pro career. In everything he did, Bryant was a baller, literally and figuratively — from taking Brandy to prom to challenging His Airness Michael Jordan during his first All-Star Game to putting 60 on the Utah Jazz in his farewell performance. When he jumped from high school to the NBA in 1996, the path was uncharted for a guard. Few had achieved the feat without struggles — Moses Malone, Darryl Dawkins, Shawn Kemp and Kevin Garnett — and they were all big men, or bigger than Bryant.What he lacked in size, which was not much, he made up for in preparation. He trained relentlessly, whether shooting thousands of jumpers to perfect his stroke or running sand dunes to improve his conditioning. Anyone who's witnessed him in person saw the product of his devotion, how he glided into position, feinted like an apparition and lobbed impossible jumpers that had no chance of dropping — only they did. There were times he couldn't be covered with a fishing net. If you aren't part of Laker Nation, chances are he broke your heart more than once. In letting the game he loved go after 20 seasons, Bryant continued to exude an air of excellence, snaring an Oscar for his animated ode to the sport, "Dear Basketball.""I did everything for you — because that's what you do when someone makes you feel as alive as you've made me feel," he said in the short film. "My heart can take the pounding, my mind can handle the grind, but my body knows it's time to say goodbye, and that's OK. I'm ready to let you go."
To some he was polarizing
When a revered man dies, the lines between hagiography and history are blurred, but anyone who's lived a life worth living deserves to see his legacy fully explored.Humans struggle when their favorite people leave complex legacies. Look no further than Michael Jackson. They'll struggle again when Woody Allen, Roman Polanski and Mike Tyson meet their makers. Bryant's been remembered in glowing terms these past four weeks, but his shortcomings, too, are part of his lore, no matter how painful they are to remember. In what now looks like prescience, ESPN's Ramona Shelburne, who covered much of Bryant's career, said during a 2017 interview, "I don't think Kobe was beloved in his time. He may be somebody who is remembered more fondly by history than he was in his time. The guy was very polarizing when he played."As great as Bryant was, he snared only one MVP. He was labeled cocky, a ball hog, a bad teammate. He was accused of quitting in the 2006 playoffs. Phil Jackson, one of basketball's most innovative minds, called him "uncoachable." He was fined for hurling a gay slur at a referee. In the middle of his career, he threatened to play for the loathed crosstown rival Clippers, or on Pluto, one being no worse than the other to Lakers fans. And, of course, there were the 2003 sexual assault allegations in Colorado, which ended with him being cleared of criminal charges. He and his accuser later settled a civil suit out of court. Any one of these things, let alone two or three, could have killed most mortals' careers — forget their legacies. Yet in Bryant's oh-so-Kobe way, he dealt with them directly and effectively.
But he never lacked confidence
To bring up his perseverance in the face of shortcomings is not to castigate him in death but to cast light on important parts of his legacy. Yes, he silenced haters with Ws and trophies, but for someone with his drive and talent, that wasn't the difficult part. Even as a teenage newbie to The Association, he saw himself as ready for any challenge. Take his first All-Star Game in 1998, which he started despite not starting for the Lakers. Undeterred, he irked veteran (and future teammate) Karl Malone, telling him he didn't need his screens. It was seen as brash for a young buck, but everyone in Madison Square Garden knew what Bryant was up to: He wanted a piece of Jordan. "Kobe has challenged Michael," color commentator Isiah Thomas pointed out to the home audience. "Michael comes out and says, 'Not tonight, young fella. I'm bringing all my tricks.' Kobe comes back, he says, 'Michael, I'm steaRead More – Source