Kobe Bryant’s loss goes beyond basketball

From Lower Merion to the Staples Center in Los Angeles, the outpouring of emotion has enveloped the nation.

This is now way beyond sports. Even basketball. Even Philly basketball. It has now been almost three days since a helicopter plunged into a hillside outside Los Angeles. On board were nine people. One of them was known instantly recognizable around the world. The other eight were about to be.

All nine perished, including Kobe Bryant, retired NBA superstar with his roots deeply entrenched in Philly hoops lore, along with his 13-year-old daughter, Gianna, known affectionately as Gigi.

John Altobelli was head baseball coach at Orange Coast College. He was on board along with his wife, Keri, and youngest daughter, Alyssa, also 13.

Alyssa and Gianna were teammates at Bryant’s Mamba Sports Academy. The group was headed to a basketball game in Thousand Oaks.

Christina Mauser, 38 was an assistant coach for the Mamba team.

Sarah Chester and her daughter Payton, also 13 and also a member of the team, also perished.

Pilot Ara Zoboyan was the ninth.

This is no longer about sports. From Lower Merion to the Staples Center in Los Angeles, the outpouring of emotion, the struggle to come to grips with such a crushing loss, has enveloped the nation, much like the fog that sat on the L.A. area swallowed up the ill-fated helicopter Sunday morning.

Even in Philadelphia, which in fact struggled with its feelings for Bryant, the hometown hero who spent his entire 20year career on the opposite coast winning championships for the Lakers, the loss has left many struggling for words.

It is not unusual for the public to be moved by celebrity death. This feels different. This is not just Philly mourning the loss of a native son. Or Los Angeles stunned at the loss of the iconic centerpiece of so many great Lakers teams.

This is kids – and adults – in Kansas, and everywhere else on the globe dumb-struck with grief.

It does not know geographic borders. It has affected every demographic. The faces of those struggling are black, white and everything in between.

It conjures up scenes that followed the death of Princess Diana. Maybe fittingly so, Bryant certainly was basketball royalty. Or maybe John F. Kennedy Jr., with its eerily similar air disaster. We are hearing whispers of folks saying they will always remember where they were when they heard the news, a memory of the day we lost JFK Jr.’s father.

But there is something else at work here as well. It’s a haunting realization that despite all his success, his unimaginable wealth, a flourishing career after he hung up his sneakers, and a loving family, the truth is his destiny was out of Kobe Bryant’s control.

Kobe Bryant was 41 years old. After spending 20 years at the pinnacle of the NBA, he had pivoted away gracefully and was enjoying a second career, indeed a second life.

That is the element that seizes all of us, this notion of even for someone who seemed to have it all – it can still all be taken away in a heartbeat.

It is that sense of vulnerability, of fragility, of uncertainty, that haunts all of us. It is so acute now as we face the harsh reality that it afflicts those who seemingly have so much.

That is especially true of athletes. They are lionized, made bigger than life, placed on a pedestal.

It is humbling – but at its root simply human – to have that snatched away in an instant.

Kobe Bryant was not a perfect person – even if he seemed to have the perfect life. None of us are.

Most of us will never experience even a glimpse of what Bryant did on those 41 years on this earth.

But we do have some things in common. We are husbands, fathers, mothers, sons, daughters – and fans.

We root for Lower Merion. And Chester High. And the Sixers. Sports is forever; life is not. Don’t waste a second of it. Hug your kids.

Tell those you love how you feel. Often.

That’s the only score that really counts.