Clarke
FEB 20 20
10
Guest Commentary
Kobe: More Than Championship Rings By Matthew Bass The tragic and untimely death of Kobe Bryant, his daughter Gigi, and the seven others aboard that fated flight on January 26 was an all-too-familiar cause for reflection on myriad truths life has to offer— it is fleeting; even the best, brightest, and most successful can perish in an instant. So hug your loved ones and tell them you love them, tomorrow is not promised today. Our
collective reaction to Kobe’s death also reminds us of the complicated relationship we, the consuming public, have with our sports superstars. Idolatry of rich and famous stars is nothing new to society. Although magnified ad infinitum by modern social media, particularly in the sports context, are we not entertained now by our modern day gladiators
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much as the Romans were thousands of years ago? Certainly, athletes such as Kobe are the pinnacle of strength, speed, agility, dexterity, coordination, and “competitive fire” (as Tiger Woods, in shock, epitomized Kobe moments after learning of his passing). Perhaps they would have met a less savory fate millennia ago, glorified though it may still have been. Nevertheless, rooting for our sports heroes is a tradition that has now been passed down for generations in America. Like many my age, I grew up rooting for Cal Ripken, Jr., Art Monk, and Michael Jordan (because who can actually name a Washington Bullet player on the 1991 roster?), among others. Some of those others included Josh Kerr-Hobert, Steve Sipe, and Patrick
Bartlett of the great early 1990s Eagles basketball teams, who we used to pretend to be as we played basketball on homemade courts and playgrounds across the county. I can still remember walking down to Johnson Williams on a Friday night, hearing the roar of the crowd as Bo Morgan’s name was announced. Sometimes, I wonder whether that phenomenon is unique to a small-town upbringing, although I suspect it is not. Without delving into a socio-anthropological analysis of sports idolatry in modern America, what compels us to fascination with our superstars? Sure, they have physical gifts most of us will never know; they perform on stages the likes of which we cannot imagine; and for those who
have found success at the highest professional level, financial status to match. Is that it, then that in their successes they have achieved the American Dream? That in their unimaginable wealth and imperial majesty (think, King LeBron James), they are the pinnacle of that which we are raised to believe any of us can pursue? Perhaps. Notably, Kobe came from a professional basketball family, and Cal came from a professional baseball family. Maybe they had a leg up on us. Jordan, well, who is actually like Mike? Or maybe we throw it back to one of America’s early sports superstars, Mickey Mantle, whose father worked the lead and zinc mines in Commerce, Oklahoma. Undoubtedly, sports grant the opportunity to a select few to
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