Dear Kobe,

Growing up a Celtics fan, you were the villain. The kryptonite to my green and white, you were the rival. The arch-nemesis that so many of my elementary school friends loved, I rooted against you. And time and time again, you prevailed.

As the years went on, I fell in love with basketball. I found a home in the gym with a ball in my hand. There’s a magic to the sound of the ball bouncing, kicks squeaking, and the swish of the net. This is still my happy place. It’s different without you.

Kobe, you were my generations MJ. I’d spend hours trying to mimic your fade-away. The jersey-bite, the fist-pump, the snarl; we all wanted to be you. We lived by the Mamba Mentality. You inspired us to grind. You taught us that obsession is okay, and that greatness doesn’t come easy. You taught us to love basketball; that success is as much mental as it is physical. And you taught us to trash talk.

Legends never die. I’ll forever yell your name as I shoot a paper ball into a trash can. I’ll tell my kids about your off-the-backboard-alley-oop-to-yourself dunks and your buzzer-beating game-winners. I’ll show them your cold-blooded non-flinch against Matt Barnes and your free throw with a torn achilles. Your 81 game and your 60 finale. These moments, and you, will live on forever.

More than anything, you inspired me.

Love,

A kid from small town VA

A year ago, we lost Kobe Bean Bryant. Like so many others, this tragedy broke me. To us, Kobe wasn’t just a basketball player. He was our idol. He was our role model. Kobe was a savage on the court, but beyond that an incredible father and family man. We love you Kobe.