Mamba

The sports world is reeling after the death of Kobe Bryant in a Los Angeles-area helicopter crash Sunday morning. It is no surprise that this calamity has sparked intense media attention and over-the-top praise for Bryant, who lived just 41 years. I will praise him too, but in an even-handed way.

First, the accident. The former LA Lakers star was with his 13-year-old daughter Gianna, six other passengers and pilot Ara Zobayan; they were going to a basketball game in which the girl would be playing and Bryant coaching. The helo, Bryant’s Sikorsky S-76B, left John Wayne Airport at 9:06 a.m. Since the Federal Aviation Administration’s and National Transportation Safety Board’s investigations are far from complete, we will have to await definitive answers as to just what happened. But it is certain that flying conditions were not ideal. There was dense fog, causing many other flights to be canceled or delayed. Who, I would like to know, made the fateful decision to take off? Did any of those nine now-deceased persons hesitate? (The other six, whose lives are no less important than Bryant’s, were John Altobelli, his wife Keri and their daughter Alyssa; Christina Mauser; and Sarah Chester and her daughter Payton. Alyssa and Payton were teammates of Gianna’s.) The children aside, how many of them had qualms about climbing aboard and embarking on the flight? For that matter, one or more of the kids may have expressed some degree of trepidation.

These are sensitive matters, but I can easily imagine a strained conversation between Bryant and Zobayan. A licensed commercial pilot since 2007 and one with a spotless record, he had presumably flown in a variety of weather conditions. Piloting a helicopter requires intelligence, skill and confidence. An equally important quality, however, is discretion. There are times when it is best to stay on the ground. The group could have taken a limousine, but Bryant much preferred this cool, sexy and quick mode of transportation rather than sitting in clogged LA streets and highways. He was a famous and wealthy superstar, don’t ya know? Zobayan undoubtedly told Bryant that visibility would be poor up in the foggy sky. He realized the Los Angeles Police Department had called it a no-fly day, grounding all its aircraft, as had a local helicopter charter service. My guess is that Bryant insisted, Zobayan reluctantly complied and the others trusted that he would get them there safely. Zobayan talked to flight controllers and said he was activating “special visual flight rules,” which meant he would need their help.

The pilot got them north to Glendale and circled for 12 minutes before turning west and hopefully the destination of Thousand Oaks. There was a rapid climb, followed by an even faster descent, indicating that Zobayan was disoriented. Shortly after 9:45 a.m., in what must have been a very fearful cabin, the helicopter crashed into a hillside in Calabasas at 184 miles per hour. With debris scattered over an area the size of a football field, a brush fire was ignited. I want to avoid stating the obvious, but it is a tragedy that should not have happened. They might have expediently canceled the game, delayed it or even arrived late. Would it have been shameful for Bryant to admit that he was not the master of the universe and that those nine lives were much too valuable to risk?

The son of Joe “Jellybean” Bryant, a journeyman with the Philadelphia 76ers, San Diego Clippers and Houston Rockets, he was born in Philly but spent much of his youth in Italy—where the old man played out the string with a number of Italian pro clubs. A wunderkind on the basketball court, he was back in the USA for high school. This 6′ 6″ guard never set foot on a college campus. Chosen by the Charlotte Hornets with the 13th pick in the 1996 NBA draft, his rights were traded immediately to the Lakers. Bryant came off the bench his first two years and was a luminous star by 1999. Smooth, explosive, sure-handed and fervent on defense, he drew inevitable comparisons to Michael Jordan.

Bryant scored 33,643 points and had 7,047 rebounds and 6,306 assists over the course of his 20-year career. Jerry West called him the greatest player in franchise history, and West was no slouch himself. Magic Johnson concurred. With Shaquille O’Neal in the paint and Bryant in the backcourt, the Lakers won titles in 2000, 2001 and 2002, but a petulant personality conflict caused O’Neal to demand a trade to the Miami Heat. Both were on winners separately, but that tandem should have endured longer with them hoisting more big, shiny trophies; Bryant ended up with five, O’Neal with four.

Most of the Bryant obituaries I have seen in the last few days include a reference to his having been charged with sexually assaulting a 19-year-old European-American woman named Katelyn Faber who worked at a Colorado resort. Let’s not go into the ugly details, but it will suffice to say that in the end she refused to testify after pressure/threats/coercion from his attorneys and zealous fans. Had he been found guilty, Bryant might have been sentenced to four years in the pen. A civil suit was settled out of court with Bryant paying an undisclosed sum and apologizing—yet refusing to admit that he had done anything wrong. His statement contained artful language, something about him thinking the encounter was consensual, but he could see how maybe she did not. As a marital peace offering of sorts, Bryant bought his wife Vanessa an 8-carat purple diamond ring worth about $4 million.

(One more thing about him forcing his masculine charms on Ms. Faber. I doubt I would be engaging in wild speculation if I said it was probably not a one-off matter. That is, Bryant most likely did this or something like it again and again. He was stunned to find that she was willing to take it to the authorities.)

He lost a couple of endorsement deals after that mortifying episode, but Nike kept him on and his career suffered minimal impact. Bryant soon made two notable changes. First, he got some bad-boy, street-cred tats. They started with one on his right bicep displaying the name of Vanessa—the woman on whom he had so publicly cheated. That was followed by one for each of his four daughters, some Biblical verses and a number of abstract designs. Second, he gave himself the nickname/alter ego of “Black Mamba” or just “Mamba.” Although I was initially as skeptical about this as I was about the ink adorning his arms, legs and torso, I actually came to like it. It fit Bryant, the uber-talented, -focused and -driven athlete. He later said in an interview with Ahmad Rashad, “When I step on that court, I become that. I am that killer snake. I’m stone cold, man.” He wrote a book entitled The Mamba Mentality: How I Play, although in truth it was mostly a collection of self-glorifying photos.

Bryant reached his peak as a scorer in the 2006 and 2007 seasons, “dropping” (as young sports writers like to say) 35.4 and 31.6 points per game, respectively. He was on gold−medal winning teams in the 2008 and 2012 Olympics. But wrist, ankle, shoulder, back, knee and Achilles injuries took a cumulative toll. He played just six games in 2014, and some people began to call him over the hill. Mamba quit before he had to? No way. The Lakers gave him a $48 million, two-year contract extension, and I remember well how his game steadily declined—very much like what happened with Jordan at the end when he was with the Washington Wizards. Bryant could not or would not accept the fact that he was no longer the athlete he had been. He was not as adept at skying to the hoop, and he had trouble creating shots (he had been among the best ever at that) because he did not have the zip or lift of his younger years. If a game was close at the end, the ball had to be in Bryant’s hands and he was not going to pass. He made 37% and 36% of his shots his final two seasons, and LA had woeful records of 21-61 and 17-65. Yes, he scored 60 points in his final game, against the Utah Jazz on April 13, 2016. But good grief, he took 50 shots (including 21 from behind the line)! The man, who still holds the NBA record for missed shots, 14,481, had no shame.

In a 2018 TV talk-show interview, Bryant joked that he could not live in Los Angeles without “the Mamba chopper.” The untimely death of a sports legend is something to lament, and Bryant has been honored in ways both touching and mawkish. Several NBA teams agreed to start their next game with a pair of intentional 24-second violations—24, of course, being Bryant’s number in purple and gold. Condolences have come from President Donald Trump and his predecessor, Barack Obama. Soccer stars in France have chimed in, not to mention those in pro football, baseball, golf and tennis.