Kobe Bryant 🏀

Kobe Bryant was a world-class athlete. 

    He was an individual who used his all-in, mama mentality to attack the game that he loved, to become the greatest version of himself. Overall, he was an inspiration to millions of individuals and athletes alike. Who hasn’t at least once thrown a piece of paper into a garbage bin and yelled “Kobe!” at some point or another? His mark on sports, as well as Western Society, is undoubtable. 

    I still remember where I was, the day the news broke. At the gym, running on a treadmill, watching the television up above the machines. Non-stop 24hr coverage of Kobe Bryant in a helicopter crash. It felt surreal. I was listening to it, staring at the pictures and words across the bottom of the screen- but I had a hard time believing it. I had a hard time fully absorbing the news and accepting it as reality. Something about the entire event felt like it was a movie- a bad dream. I don’t know Kobe Bryant- I’ve never met the man. All I know of him is what I saw on the television, what I saw when he would play sports. All I knew of him were his interviews and highlight videos- far from knowing the man himself. Yet regardless, something about the event hit me like a ton of bricks. I’m the first to admit I am an emotional person, who feels things very intensely. When I found out that a helicopter crash had killed him, along with his daughter and multiple others- I was hit like a ton of bricks. 

    I couldn’t really understand why it hit me so hard, to be honest. Once again- I did not know the man. Sure, people like to get wrapped up in celebrity culture, and worship false idols on the television screen. But that was not me. I did not worship him. I did not even watch him as a kid. Basketball was never my thing to begin with, so I hardly had any emotional stock invested in a man who dribbled. Yet regardless, there I was- running on a treadmill- fighting back the pain I felt from the news of his death. Something about it hit-hard. The more time I spent pondering it- the more time I spent dwelling on the pain- the clearer it became to me. The fragility of life, was shouting in my face. The very concept which we hold so dear, shattered within a moment on television for the world to see. And that was the truth about it. Fragility. A violent reminder of how fragile all that we hold dear truly is. We as humans are creatures of habit. We form habits, and we perform them as if they are rituals. We wake up, at the same time every single day. We assume that every day, forever, will be the same. We drive to work, in our cars or on our buses, assuming that everything will stay the same. We sit at our desk, and slave away- once again, everything remains the same. Lunch, same time every day. Break? You guessed it- same time, same place. Over and over and over again. We truly become nothing more than rats running on a wheel, where we repeat the same actions over and over again. 

    Yet here I stood, running on a wheel, being impacted by a man I had never even met before. By an individual who held zero relevance within my own life. Yet still, I mourned. Yet still, I felt tremendous emotional distraught, pulsating thru my soul. The pain of shock, the pain of reality, exposing a truth I had slowly began to forget. The reality that life is precious. The most precious thing that we will ever experience. We have literally been given a gift- the greatest gift- by our Creator. By God. Yet that gift, which we take for granted every single day, can be removed from us in an instant. Can be snatched from our world, and brought back to the heavens, all within a matter of moments. That everything we hold dear, can be removed from our life in the blink of an eye. That multiple lives can be lost, all within a single crash. 

    What stands out the most about this, is that these kinds of accidents happen every single day, around the world. How many times do you feel emotional, learning about a train crash in Pakistan, killing numerous people? Or about an Earthquake in Indonesia, causing death and destruction? What about a homeless person, sleeping in the snowy streets of Toronto, freezing to death? What about a drowning in Hawaii, when a surfer gets swept out too far by the current of the ocean? These types of events happen, literally, every single day. Yet we do not reflect upon them. We do not mourn them. We barely even acknowledge that they exist. Yet here we all stand, four years ago to the day, mourning the death of an individual who we had known by name. The contrast is astounding, and truly paints a deeper picture to understand. Regardless of the moral complications, the reality remains the same across the board- life is fragile. One day you’re here, the next you’re gone. All in a matter of seconds. 

    Life is a funny thing, sometimes. We as humans spend our days dreaming ahead of a future, planning ahead for a reality, which may never even arrive. We assume that life is some sort of linear path- one where everything continues in a straight line exactly as planned. We somehow, for an unknown reason, believe that we are in control of our own futures- and that everything is operating at our own control. We believe such funny things, and follow such insane rhetoric, that sometimes one must truly step back and simply laugh. Laugh at the idea that we are in control of absolutely anything within our own lives. Laugh at the idea that we somehow know how to operate the powers of the Universe, helping us create a future which will arrive exactly as planned. Humans are lost in the illusion of control, and often that illusion leads to devastating blows from out of the shadows. Punches to the gut, that no one could see coming. Death, from a helicopter crash, which resonates across the globe.

    I like to search for some sort of meaning in everything that happens within life. I believe it helps provide clarity to the noise which we find ourselves located within. I like to think that sober moments like these, help remind us just how fortunate we truly are. How fortunate that we are all here, still breathing, still planning, still living. Sometimes, violent reminders are the best way to get a message across. That day, four years ago, was a violent reminder. A violent reminder to all of us, who are still left behind, to live. To move forward with gratitude, knowing that we have been blessed with another day upon this Earth. Another chance, another opportunity, to move forward within our lives, to achieve all it is we wish to achieve. An opportunity, that I know Kobe, Gianna, and the other young men and women on that helicopter, would die for.

        May God have mercy on us all,

                    Amen