Kobe. His Daughter Gianna. 

It was all too tragic on Sunday. A legend, his daughter and 7 others lost too soon. We’ve all seen the news. It’s unavoidable.

I grew up in the MJ era, so it wasn’t like Kobe was “my guy,” but yet I was upset. I was watching the PGA tour event at Torrey Pines when I saw the news on my phone.

My wife asked, “how do you feel?” 

“Heartbroken,” I said. But not entirely sure why. Why do I feel this way?

“It’s ok to cry,” she said. “You do know you can cry. Let it out.” 

Why was I upset? I got to thinking:

• A legend, a basketball icon lost too soon. A man I hoped to see in old age. Similar to how I see Bill Russell today. 
• Be was 41. I’m soon to be 38
• He has kids and a young daughter almost the same age as my daughter. 
• Leaves behind a wife (Vanessa)
• He’ll never get to deliver the hall of fame speech he deserved 
• Jerry West was beside himself. I have tremendous respect for Jerry. “The Logo” of the NBA and fierce competitor felt deep sorrow in the loss of his friend and Laker comrade. I think he saw himself in Kobe
• And on and on… 

Yesterday (Monday), I was just somber. I just felt sad for the entire situation.

The thought I struggled with most and continue to, is the thought of that helicopter going down, and what do you say or prepare your daughter for….sitting along side you in those last fatal moments. That WRECKED me. 

As a parent I’m fine going out on my own. No one ever wants to go too soon. But with your child, your protege, at your side…that hurts. 

Monday moved on into Monday night and that’s where I found a smile. 

I was watching the Wisconsin vs Iowa basketball game and saw a post that ESPN would be reairing Kobe’s final game. His 60 point night of artistry that would complete his NBA career tapestry. 

Immediately I changed channels only to watch him start 0-5. That was painful. I knew the damn script and I was struggling through it.  C’mon Kobe, put the ball in the bucket.

Then a shot dropped. Then a layup. Then another. He was finding his legs. Three straight.

I’ve said this many times, but basketball was my first love. Now I’ll never know what it was like to be in the stratosphere with Kobe, but I could score and I knew what it felt like to get H-O-T.  Bucket. Bucket. Buckets!!

I was drawn in with the broadcast. 

I found myself rooting for an ending in a script that was already written.  Like cheering for Andy Dufresne to escape Shawshank. We know the ending.

I appreciated him. His work. His drive. His final chapter.

When he had 45, and was going for 50 I was drawn in. When he hit 53, I was sitting on the floor but up on my haunches…leaning in. Asking for 60!

He had that look in his eyes.

He hit 60, and I smiled. 

Ear to ear, I smiled. 

I smiled and I felt a little peace. That’s what he was put on this earth to do, and for a moment I forgot the tragedy, and remembered, even participated in his greatness. 

I put my kids to bed last night and knew that next day I’d be heading out of town for a quick business trip. Not irregular in the least, but it felt oh so different this time. 

I’d be lying to you if these events didn’t make me pause. Slow down. Appreciate.

I looked at my kids differently on Monday night, and today as they headed out the door. Different in a more clear way. Different in a more appreciative and thankful way.

I hate that these events do that, but it’s true and I won’t hide from it. 

This tragedy brings into perspective the reminder we hate to hear. Life is short, and it must be cherished.

Don’t forget to smile! No matter where it comes from.

Rest in peace Kobe & Gianna.