Kobe meant a lot to us. Bryant was a Father. A husband. A hero. A teammate. A benefactor. A storyteller. Black men.  lived through his highs and the lows for over a generation. As he evolved from a boy to a man.

We have so much unbridled ambition; so much of our flashy reputation comes from the desire to shine through suppression. We have that flair and swagger. But no one credits our hard work. Our talents are God-given. Natural. Instinctive. Euphemisms that sever us from the idea that we deserve it; that we EARNED it.

We saw ourselves in Kobe. Brash. Ambitious. Willing to put in the work. And the confidence gained from the countless hours of work was seen by everyone else as arrogant. Uppity. Where in other places it’s seen as…confidence.

We saw Kobe get what he wanted and it not be enough. We saw his relentless drive cause so much friction.  And the damage he caused by not paying attention to how his decisions affected others. Bryant showed us how everyone is a rider when you on top. But it’s a setup. The moment you’re down, the whispers come. Once you say no, now he’s selfish. Self-absorbed. A bad teammate.  He doesn’t work well with others. We learned that no matter what you do, the prevailing narrative will be what it will be. The irony of Kobe the master storyteller being a slave to the narrative isn’t lost on us. And maybe that’s why Kobe decided to dictate the terms of his story.

Black Men suffer in silence and it affects our relationships and our mental health.  We form relationships under circumstances that don’t really allow us to serve our partners properly. Kobe got married. Against his parents’ wishes. Against the advice of most of his friends. He wasn’t ready. He was already devoted to the game. He moved forward anyway, despite words of wisdom.

Kobe failed. And he hit rock bottom. His freedom on the line. His marriage and family threatened. He said it happened one way. She said it happened another way. Unlike most of us he had the money to defend himself. He never got his day in court. No matter how you feel about the case Someone got their freedom. Someone got paid to move on. And someone was left holding the bag. Vanessa. The woman they warned him not to marry.

So many of us have just pulled a bonehead move and thrown it all away. Whether it was women. Or drugs. Or gambling. Or we push our boundaries to places they don’t belong. In this, Kobe was also us. And for so many it ends in divorce. Or ruin. And our children grow up in another house. And our business goes down the tubes or we lose our job. And in Kobe we saw that there is life after the death.

Kobe was important to us because he went through our journey. Black. Man. American. The pressure. The microscope. The journey to belong. The resistance to getting help until we hit rock bottom. Learning to deal with drama and fear and dysfunction and coming out on the other side. He became someone to root for.

The catharsis of this. After going through his career arc, and his full story arc, and having us invest over 20 years in this character that became part of our lives. Beloved teacher. Coach. Father. It was just snatched from us. There would be no happy ending.  As a father all I can think of is him knowing death was imminent and holding his daughter as tight as he could and praying for a different ending. Knowing he could not protect her. That all of the fame and the money didn’t mean a fucking thing compared to a hill and some fog.

We feel shame that Kobe never let anything stop him. He figured out who he wanted to be and what he wanted to do and he did it 100 percent. He played though the pain. He never quit. He didn’t flinch. And we are here, with our student loans, and bad relationships, and our parents and children. And our bills and our unfulfilling jobs. Drinking away the pain. Washing away our disappointment in pussy. Buckling under the pressure.

The Mamba Mentality says that no matter what you got going on you don’t fold. We are involved fathers. We push forward through obstacles that would break anyone else. We give of ourselves and hustle for any opportunity to come up. Even when the story doesn’t go our way. Even when you have done yourself disservice. There is always room to do better.

Kobe Bryant gave us hope that there was light on the other side. That if you dug your heels in, and you put in the effort that eventually we will be alright. And that light was just snuffed the fuck out. And took Gigi too. Excuse us if we don’t want to hear a fucking thing about Colorado. Or complicated legacy. Excuse us if this time, we will not allow our fallen brother to get his reputation dragged through the mud as if there is no forgiveness. We are murdered. We are besmirched and the people who do us harm fade into obscurity. No. Not this time.

There would be no wHaTaBoUt CoLoRaDo. THIS time, for the boy from Philly who became the man in LA, we took a stand. Some of us more zealous than others. We did not bend. We did not break. And we sent him home. With dignity. With respect. He gave us half his life. We owed him that much.

So this is good-bye Bean. I still can’t believe it. But life goes on. That is the Mamba Mentality. I’ll let Vanessa send us out