Dear Kobe:
Not too long ago, I received your letter entitled ‘Dear basketball’. In these lines, I was able to understand everything. I knew your fears, your recurring questions, your doubts as forced traffic certainties. But I also learned of your willingness and your character to push boundaries. To reformulate concepts, to understand that the only evolution that exists is the product of effort. Of tenacity and perseverance. I learned from the way I went, I understood what it meant to leave everything for an idea. Only the one who falls in love as you did lives the life to the fullest. One who is willing to advance against storms without a shield, to embrace uncertainty and indulge with body and soul in an overflowing passion.
Ever since you were just a six-year-old throwing socks in your dad’s trash can, I knew you were destined to be what you finally were. Your purpose was my purpose. You gave me your spirit, your soul and your body. You have gained a lot and you have also lost. Many times you wanted to throw in the towel, leave everything and start all over again. 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 back joy. Every day was contemplating a miracle: watching you grow up was a unique privilege. Push the rod an inch higher to outdo yourself. Embrace those who were by your side to make an effort to get you. Evolve to always go first in line. Force rivals to chase you.
You were talented, but not only that: Kobe Bryant, yours was the fire. My fire. He who is born, grows, radiates but never dies. That has no time or place. A spark so intense, so pure, that it knew how to seduce its own and strangers. That it infected whoever was put in the band, that it frustrated whoever stood in front of it. It wasn’t just what you did, but how you did it. Dilated pupils, lynx wit, stiff jaw and clenched fist. Everyone wanted it, but only you managed to have it.
It’s been a year since you left. I’ve seen Michael, your older brother, cry at sea. I heard Shaq remember you with a sadness that moved me. The fragility of existence was never as present as in these days of disillusionment. But beyond the tears, I could also see the awakening: in a match that seemed lost, AD called your name to heaven after his prayer became a triple winner in the last second. Even LeBron himself fought like no one for your legacy. He gave his all to defend your essence, your message, to make the Lakers, your family, everyone’s team for a few months. For the circle of time to be completed and for redemption to become skin.
2:27
A story full of same successes that made him one of the historic NBA players.
Dear Kobe, let me confess one thing: I honestly don’t think you said goodbye to us. I keep feeling close, by my side, with my thighs tense telling me that this match, our match, is still being played. That there is still time on the clock and that only those who do not try to leave the fight. That it doesn’t matter the physique if the spirit stays standing. If the soul walks, the flame will never be extinguished. You continue to live, dear son, every child who starts and pursues a dream, every fan who sweats your shirt in a bleachers, every newcomer who struggles to be, at least for a while, what you once were .
Father, Who was Kobe Bryant? 5, 4, 3, 2, 1.
Your dear son: I have a great story to tell you.
With eternal love,
Basketball.