After 16 years in the league, Kobe Bryant has decided to keep a diary to document “the year he caught Jordan”. While Kobe refuses to remove the diary from a pedestal in his trophy room, he has allowed Writing Bareback the exclusive rights to post these excerpts.
November 11 – vs Sacramento
In life, you’re going to face some prosperity and some adversity. Sometimes that prosperity is making millions of dollars while you perform your craft at a virtually unprecedented level over two decades. Sometimes that adversity is not having the gentle, guding hand of a zen master to help you sustain your success. That’s just the way life goes. But like Phil always said in what I’m sure is a Phil original, “Adversity causes some men to break; others to break records.” Reminder to self: I’m the second kind of man.
In a renaissance of Lakers greatness, we put together our first back-to-back wins of the season. That’s just one win shy of a hot streak, which is basically the team equivalent of my shooting in 4th quarters. Yep, we put a good beat on the Sacremento Queens (Shaq wasn’t exactly Yogi Berra with the quotes, but that line is worth remembering). It’s always fun when your much poorer, less successful, in-state non-rivals come to town and get reminded how much poorer and less successful they’ll always be. C-Webb’s not walking through that door.
D’Antoni’s going to be here soon. I support the hire for now. It’ll be interesting to see how the rest of the team responds.
November 13 – vs San Antonio
There was a man who once said, “Life is truly known only to those who suffer, lose, endure adversity and stumble from defeat to defeat.” That man was probably one of the drunk hobo’s I ignore while I’m coasting towards the Staples Center in any one of my Bentleys. Simpler minds would assume I purchased my $10 million garage with legal tender. While that’s true on the surface, the deep truth is that money is merely the tangible realization of my bestness. I don’t stumble from defeat to defeat. I frollick from championship to championship. It’s the lifestyle I’m accustomed to, and that only made losing to the Spurs tonight more painful.
Normally, watching a professional like Tim Duncan perform at a high level warms my heart. He’s nearly three years older than I am. So when I take into account my superior genetics, conditioning and overseas medical connections, watching Tim reminds me that I have at least another 14 years of best-level performance in me. But tonight, losing to the Spurs was nearly unbearable. It was more about the way we lost than anything. Dany Green hitting a go-ahead three over my perfectly outstretched hand hurt. Watching as Pau Gasol missed a last second shot that I definitely would have made gave me “the announcement” feeling. Simply brutal. Any time that someone who isn’t me is taking a last-second shot, you have to question his commitment to winning. D’antoni will be here soon, and I hope he was watching tonight, because he’d better nip those 4th quarter shenanigans in the bud as his first priority if he wants to avoid going the way of Mike Brown.
I can’t write anymore. I think I’m sick.