Just as the season has changed from summer to autum, and by D.C. standards, almost winter, the seasons of sports have changed as well. NBA training camps opened this past week with much fanfare, although as usual, none of it was related to anything on the court. Phil Jackson fired a laser-guided missile into the Kobe Bryant camp yesterday, releasing excerpts from his forthcoming book detailing his final season with the Lakers. While the excerpts do not contain anything all that juicy, they certainly reinforce what we already presumed: Kobe Bryant is, without a doubt, among the most unlikable superstars of this generation
While there are other superstars who have found their way into our headlines, most find a way back into our hearts. We gave Julius Erving a free pass on having an illegitimate daughter when she played her way to the Wimbledon semifinals. Charles Barkley could have substituted a person for any of the barstools he hurled through windows, and we all would have shrugged, smiled and said, “That’s just Sir Charles. Don’t you remember how distinguished he looked in that Right Guard commercial?” Even Jason Kidd has found sanctity from beating his wife, a transgression that should have received double ignominy.
Kobe Bryant, however, will never be given a free pass. Nevermind that the rape charges against him have been dropped. Kobe is just so patently disagreeable. We would have forgiven adultery, for which Kobe showed contrition, and by contrition I mean holding a press conference where he acts as though the reporters asking questions should be admonished for making a story out of something so trivial. Poor taste in mistresses, however, does not go unpunished. Just ask Eddie Murphy.
The revelations in Jackson’s book will do nothing to repair Kobe’s tattered image. Perhaps the most vomit-inducing anecdote comes when Bryant expresses unhappiness because the plane the Lakers paid for to fly him to Colorado for court hearings was not up to his standards. I hate when I have to use sub-standard transportation as well, and I, can sympathize as I too find nothing more annoying than when my plane has cocktail peanuts, but not the mixed bag with the raisins. I said I wanted a mix!
Maybe we have all misunderstood Kobe Bryant. Perhaps, underneath that icy cold veneer lies a man who prefers consensual sex, kittens and Keith Sweat over R. Kelly. In all likelihood, though, Kobe is just another over-indulged, over-paid baby. We will always remember how he soared through our arenas, but we will never remember that he was a cultured speaker of three languages who we once crowned “Next.” We can forgive and forget, but Kobe’s presence is a constant reminder.
