The Tribune

By Ricardo Wells

Strangely enough, it took the man that facilitated Jordan’s success, Phil Jackson, to inspire Kobe’s drive. No, don’t misconstrue my narrative: Jackson didn’t make Kobe or Jordan - he enabled them.

It’s no secret, my love and admiration for Kobe Bryant. His career has chronicled my life, honestly. The parallels of many of my biggest ‘successes’ stand in relation to the achievements of his 20-year career.

In the summer of 1996, Kobe was drafted by the Charlotte Hornets and subsequently traded to my late father’s favourite pro ball team, the Los Angeles Lakers. I had no clue what that meant at the time, or how it would affect me. After all, I was only five at the time.

I have been a basketball fan for most, if not all of my life. As a young kid, the ability to dribble a basketball was always tantamount to the ability to read or write. Moreover, in my household the ability to identify with the Lakers existed as birthright.

According to history - I say history because I never watched or have any memory of this occurrence - young Kobe entered a 1997 elimination playoff game against the Utah Jazz and shot a dismal four of 14. That’s right, Kobe; still a rookie put up shot after shot.

In 1998 the Lakers were swept by the Jazz in the conference finals. Kobe, still a role player for the team, took the loss extremely hard. The team was swept again in 1999, this time by the San Antonio Spurs on their way to a title.

The Lakers fell well short of expectations in Kobe’s first three seasons. You see, before he became the player everyone feared, Kobe Bryant was a young, obnoxious loser.

The questions about the Lakers mirrored the question about him - are they/is he all show? How great can they/he be? Is it truly about winning? He responded and the “Black Mamba” was born. He became a legend virtually overnight.

In 2000, the world was abuzz about ‘Y2K’. In my neighbourhood and at my school everyone was abuzz about how deep could the Lakers go.

Game four of the 2000 NBA finals, midway through the overtime period, ‘Shaq’ fouled out and the Lakers were struggling to stop Pacers centre Rik Smitts. In that game I remember commentators making the case for how the absence of ‘Shaq’ would doom the Lakers. As the discussion continued, Smitts knocked down a hook shot in the lane to pull the Pacers within a point around the one minute, 31- second mark.

The ball was inbound to Kobe - the announcers said it was now incumbent on the Pacers to get a stop. I knew it was Kobe’s time. “Kobe has got to go to work again,” is what they said.

He dribbled to the top of the arch, nailed a two-point jump shot with ease. “How good is this kid?” a commentator asked.

Kobe hit three clutch shots. It felt as if he knew a tied series would be tough to overcome. The Lakers won that game on the back of Kobe, and later the series in six.

All the credit went to ‘Shaq’, deservedly so, some went to Phil for his ability to coach up the young team.

All I remembered was those three shots - I saw Kobe. There was no mistake: my excitement in that moment was a lot more than glee over a win, it was joy to a degree I had never felt before.

It wasn’t as simple as a team winning a title, it was more the fulfilment of promise. Those shots he missed in Utah, the look in his eyes promised me that the hurt would be intense but the joy would be unmistakable.

He delivered from that point on - characterising the love I had for the game of basketball.

In 2002 I graduated primary school - Kobe won his third title. I slept through the fourth quarter of the clinching game. The next morning, my father told me the Lakers lost the game; I was as angry as I ever had been. The entire ride to school that morning I complained how it was my fault they lost. As we entered the school compound my dad looked at me and told me the Lakers had actually won.

As I was so excited I left my backpack in the backseat.

In 2005, my BJC year, Kobe became the official face of the Lakers after ‘Shaq’ was traded to the Heat.

In 2006, my 10th grade year, Kobe lit the league up and took the scoring title.

In 2008, my high school graduation year, Kobe won his first season MVP. I know, the Lakers lost to the Celtics in the finals.

The close out game was played on June 17, my graduation date. The Lakers were torn apart that night. Thank goodness the senior party made up for it ... well slightly.

2009 and 2010, back to back titles for the Lakers. For me, in my major year and new scholarship.

Kobe Bryant played his final game last night. His opponents were the Utah Jazz. At the time of writing I had no clue if the Lakers won or lost.

20 years!

My introduction to basketball came as a result of my father telling me he saw greatness in you. Five titles, seven trips to the finals, two finals MVPs and one season MVP later, I have to bid you goodbye!

I loved you because you were great, cried when we lost, smiled when we won. No, I never suited up with you ... but you gave so much of yourself on the court, I felt as if every part of it was of me.

In February I lost the man that introduced us - you were his favourite player for a lot more reasons than I can ever put into words. But, for the most part, it was because you showed growth.

Your game kept his sons in line, focused, driven to be better than anyone would ever give them credit for.

Your poise gave him hope that no matter what was said, his boys would work for the best until the end.

Your discipline proved to him that his sons would never take short cuts.

In all, you helped him to raise us.

Strangely enough, it took Kobe’s success to inspire my drive.

• Ricardo Wells writes every Thursday on the NBA. Comments to rwells@tribunemedia.net