It is a tragedy that Kobe Bryant died. That they all died. His thirteen year old daughter and the other handful of people. They all had family who loved them and any kind of unnatural death is a tragedy.
I didn’t like Kobe Bryant. I thought he played a selfish kind of basketball and it is likely that he was a rapist. But he was one of the greatest basketball players of all time. A beautiful athlete. And perhaps he was beginning to be a better man. Maybe he was a good father. Perhaps he had a lot to offer the world eventually, besides his athletic prowess. He had a famously good work ethic and dedication, so maybe he was going to keep learning and become a great man.
It’s always odd when young athletes die tragically. When the Great Clemente died, at the age of 38, while delivering food and supplies on New Year’s Eve to an earthquake ravaged Nicaragua, Nicaraguans and Panamanians walked the beaches for weeks, looking for his body. It was never found. But it affected millions, with true and earnest emotion.
Kobe Bryant dying is a tragedy. Whether I liked him or not is not important. He thrilled millions. And perhaps he inspired countless young children to play basketball or study harder to get a scholarship. I hope he didn’t rape that woman and I won’t dwell on that. But a hero to many just died. My heart goes out to his family and friends and teammates and basketball foes.
Rest in Peace, Kobe Bryant. And your poor daughter too. What a tragedy.