I was eight years old when
a kind of magic entered my life:
call him greatness personified,
wizardry, focus, deadly villain, even
deadlier hero.
I dreamt of one day standing in
those same shoes, on a court somewhere
like my hero.
All kids dream and I dreamed
even bigger than most,
just my nature,
or maybe the things
I learned from watching…
I’m not lacing up on hardwood under
white and yellow lights,
that certain dream died a long time ago
when I gained a sense of perspective,
around age twelve, or something like that.
(A 5’8 guy from Hungary… some dreams are too big, maybe)
But other things came from that and
I never stopped learning
from the man who graced my wall,
my dreams and the depths of my mind, so many times:
endless rainy afternoons on the
driveway, the patio,
learning that one word…dedication.
To be something that we can be proud of,
with sweat, blood, pain, but the best kind…
the kind that leads to legacy, legendary status.
Always fighting, always looking up,
finding ways to be better,
bigger, making it with fists, aimed at those invisible demons,
and smiles, most of all, yellow spray in the air,
in my veins.
Wouldn’t be who I am
if it wasn’t for the Mamba.
I’m not the only one.
Kobe changed so many worlds,
so many lives,
and we are in your debt, forever…
We will never forget what you did for us…
Mamba out
But not really…
Burning somewhere divine forever…
