Last Sunday, Kobe Bryant displayed the most scintillating exhibition of individual athletic dominance the sports world has ever seen.
The great No. 8 accomplished a feat Michael Jordan, David Robinson, Larry Bird and Magic never realized. Bryant became the second player in NBA history to top 80 points in a regulation game.
Granted, Bryant’s point totals fall 19 short of Wilt Chamberlain’s triple digit milestone. However, given that Bryant is a guard in the modern NBA, a league comprised with the world’s most phenomenal athletes, and the fact that he scored most of his points on contested jump shots, makes his scoring eruption unrivaled in greatness.
Furthermore, while Chamberlain played the entire game to reach the century mark, Bryant sat out for half of the second quarter. Considering his lava-hot accuracy that Sunday, with six extra minutes of playing time, it’s easy to conceive the notion of Bryant eclipsing 90 points.
The most impressive aspect of Bryant’s performance, not just in that historic game but also in the whole season thus far, is that he’s triumphing at a time when the harsh network of popular opinion craves to sink him into failure and disgrace.
The truth is, outside of the City of Angels, people despise Kobe Bryant. Described as a prima donna, selfish, callous and fake, basketball’s greatest talent has been the subject of severe scrutiny and criticism by every major sports media outlet, from ESPN to “Sports Illustrated.”
Bryant’s own coach, Phil Jackson, published a book that portrayed Bryant as belligerent, self-absorbed and “uncoachable.” Throw in the adversity Bryant faced at his sexual assault trial, and the result is a player dominating his sport in an unprecedented fashion in the aftermath of one of the most significant character assassinations in the history of sports media.
What’s more is that I used to be one of the haters. Being from San Antonio, a city with an elite pro-basketball franchise, I’m naturally inclined to loathe LA’s favorite son. But, rivalries aside, I hated Kobe for his shot selection, his reputed distaste for bonding with his teammates and this creepy, contrived image perpetuated by weird Adidas ads that showed him riding motorcycles in sleek, Euro-gay, black leather biker suits.
But, something has changed. This season Kobe Bryant, like the gag obstructing the gimp’s mouth in “Pulp Fiction,” shut me up. I love Kobe Bryant because he is achieving wild success. In today’s modern climate, to be a respected and marketable black athlete, one has to be in tune with hip hop culture to achieve street credibility. If the street angle is unavailable, then the player must take the route of a devout goody-goody like Grant Hill, Dwight Howard or David Robinson.
Kobe, the product of an affluent, international upbringing, lacks the gritty, coming of age war wounds of basketball’s most popular cult hero, Allen Iverson. The complexity of Bryant’s character emerges in his notorious “killer instinct.” No environmental stimulant prompted the Darwinian ruthlessness of his cutthroat character. Kobe’s vicious, competitive streak is an awe-inspiring manifestation of natural ambition and desire.
Many people have disliked Kobe in the past because his story contradicted the Horatio Alger, rags to riches tradition that is so engrained in the American psyche. Traditional, iconic American heroes appeal to the everyman; they are talented people that overcome great obstacles to achieve greatness.
Before his highly publicized falling out with Shaquille O’Neal, his injudicious rendezvous with a hotel employee and the acerbic condemnation by the greatest coach in NBA history, Kobe’s ascendance to greatness lacked the obstacles necessary to elevate him to the canon of American heroes.
This season Bryant may prove to be the greatest basketball player to ever live. Thank you, Kobe Bryant, for rising above the criticism and inspiring the world with your unstoppable talent.
Tim Lloyd is a sophomore English major. He may be contacted at [email protected].
