It opens with Kyrie aboard Kobe’s helicopter, seeking career advice - on the condition that the student guest-coach for the professor’s team, which starred 13-year-old Gigi Bryant. And he swooshes all throughout my book, Can’t Knock the Hustle: Inside the Season of Protest, Pandemic, and Progress with the Brooklyn Nets’ Superstars of Tomorrow. But Kobe’s legacy will be in the joy of its everywhere effect. What happened that morning, and that year, was sudden, and scary, and sad. I left an email to the Black Mamba in my Drafts folder on Sunday, Januthe kind you wait until Monday to send in hopes of a quicker response.
“I saw what he was creating,” Kyrie explained to me, “and I knew that I wanted the same structure: He had his own company, he had his own belief system, he had his own principles that he lived by.
#KOBE AND GIGI. MOVIE#
(Except for his politics.) He was a mentor to the Brooklyn Nets’ snake charmer Kyrie Irving, who would call the so-called Black Mamba on the verge of championships, fatherhood, movie deals, anything, anytime.
(Except maybe the sneakers.) More than LeBron. In my two-year journey off the court with NBA players, no presence proved more influential than Kobe. But in this particular case, my iPhone actually malfunctioned, the result of a real-estate broker in San Antonio responding to my tweet about a story we ran at Bleacher Report’s magazine in 2018, which prompted Kobe to go at the guy. He’d text basketball players, too, with the same one-liners for superstars and teens alike. He didn’t have my number, although he was known to cold-call writers like that.
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