Los Angeles is Hurting Today

Kobe Bryant dies at the age of 41.

I’ve been sitting on these eight words for the last couple of hours. It still feels unreal to me. My childhood hero died today, and so did a part of the City of Los Angeles. It’s a day I never prepared for even though I knew it would eventually happen. This wasn’t supposed to be how it all ended for someone who almost seemed indestructible. An athlete who played through every injury. A father who devoted his time to help improve and become an ambassador of women’s basketball. He was elite on and off the court and he’s gone just like that. The man who went out of his way to prepare for every situation. Learning different languages to get in his opponent’s head, spending countless hours working on his craft and giving it his all one hundred percent of the time, he was the definition of determination. The initial news put me in a state of shock, but it didn’t really kick in until I got home and saw my Kobe Bryant jersey hanging in my closet. I haven’t stopped crying since then even as I write this. The climate feels different in Los Angeles, something I haven’t felt since the passing of Michael Jackson. I’ll never forget this day. Los Angeles is in pain, and I’m praying for the city but also for the Bryant family. It was never supposed to end like this. Mamba Mentality forever.