"It's completely ridiculous," he said. "Nice defense, Kobe... Tragic defense... You can replay it all day... My God... Po pooooo!... It's funny... That year we only won four games."

WHAT did you do when you learned the tragic news of the helicopter crash on the hillside of Calabasas in January 2020? Were you making a quick snack in the kitchen? Were you relaxing in your armchair? Were you cleaning your garage? I was in the car with my two sons, rushing home so the older one, who was then eight, could change, and we could leave for the basketball game at 4:15. When we arrived at the gym, I didn't notice it at the moment, but my son told me after the game that a player from the opposing team had written "KOBE" with a black permanent marker on the sleeve of his white T-shirt under his green jersey. Such a day is unforgettable. You don't forget a death that shocks the entire planet.

That was the power and influence of Kobe Bryant. The athletes we admire have a great impact on us. We see what they have achieved and what they are capable of achieving. That captivates us and draws us to them. They give us an ideal we aspire to reach, a measure of comparison, and Kobe's magnetism was even stronger because, as a personality, he didn't limit himself to basketball. He created the award-winning animated short film Dear Basketball, which was based on a poem he wrote when he retired from active play.

In the post-Lakers era, it seems, he was an ideal husband and a caring but demanding father of four daughters. Thanks to the time he spent, the media, and his fans, who were willing to forgive him, as well as the huge diamond ring he bought for Vanessa, apologizing to her, he made almost everyone forget the scandal that tarnished his reputation—the 2003 accusation of rape that led to his arrest in Colorado. He also put aside his differences with Phil Jackson and Shaquille O’Neal. It seemed that life had more great things in store for him beyond the five championships and fifteen NBA All-Star games...