I Love You, Kobe.

Life isn’t guaranteed, no matter who you are.

It’s 4AM in Hong Kong, where I live. The Wuhan virus is in the air, shrouding quiet Chinese New Year celebrations. I’m hungry for a burger, so I go out in the cold with a flu-mask to the nearest McDonalds and that’s when I see the headline.

“KOBE BRYANT DIES IN HELICOPTER CRASH”

My stomach and heart were gripped and twisted grotesquely. I’m crying on the inside while writing this.

Kobe’s impact on his fans goes beyond an appreciation for his game.

Kobe Bryant is a somatic, spiritual experience. His intensity. His focus. His passion. His cause.

The man dominated Basketball, won an Oscar, published books and was in the trenches of perfecting his newfound love of life after the NBA. Mamba Mentality isn’t just an idea. It’s a philosophy and Kobe is its God.

As I stood in the McDonalds, waiting, I looked around to see if anyone else had heard of the sickening news. Seemed like they hadn’t, so I shared it with them. Kobe Bryant doesn’t need an introduction. Everyone knows who he is and just as expected, I was met with the look of shock on everyone’s faces when they asked me if I was sure about what I’d just said.

Their phones came out. I looked back down to mine and saw a message on Instagram from one of my basketball brothers — Azeem.