Why I loved watching Kobe Bryant be a ‘girl dad’
I can count on one hand, not using all of my fingers, how many games my father attended — and most of them were in grade school.
Mr. Daniel was rebounding for me as I got shots up in his St. Louis high school’s gym. My mother and I were visiting the area from Atlanta. We would leave in a few days for an elite basketball camp at a university I hoped to attend and I wanted to feel prepared.
My mother and Mr. Daniel grew up together, so he’s always been around and is like an uncle to me. He also coached girls basketball, so he was the natural person to call when I needed to get in the gym.
My father also lives in St. Louis. My mother, being the amicable peacemaker she is, invited him to the gym session, unbeknownst to me. She didn’t tell me in case he didn’t show up.
“Why’s he here now?” I asked myself when he arrived. In the words of Drake, he literally had never been with me shooting in the gym. My father began to guard me in the paint; I was known for my physical back-to-the-basket playing style down low. Today wouldn’t be any different.
Mr. Daniel threw the entry passes, I posted up my father but will admit I took hard digs, even some cheap shots, at him as I gained position. It didn’t end well.
My father was mostly absent and uninvolved in my life, seemingly only making efforts when it was convenient for him; so that encounter was years of unprocessed anger, hurt and confusion swelling out.
Fast forward roughly two years later, I finish high school basketball, where I tallied 1,000-plus rebounds, and in my senior year, my team and I won our Georgia high school its first basketball state championship — boys or girls. I signed with Northwestern University and was a twotime team captain. We went to the NCAA tournament in 2015.
I can count on one hand, not using all of my fingers, how many games my father attended — and most of them were in grade school, with one in middle school.
Seeing the bond between NBA legend Kobe Bryant and his 13-year-old daughter, Gigi, rooted in the love of the game, was always so refreshing for me since I so badly wanted something similar as a teenager. That’s part of the reason the news of their tragic deaths in a helicopter ride to a tournament was devastating, heartbreaking and completely unreal for me, as it was for countless others.
Kobe loved his four girls out loud, and did everything he could to help them realize their dreams, making no qualms about not having a boy to carry on his legacy. ESPN anchor Elle Duncan summed it up best in her incredible and heartwrenching tribute to him on SportsCenter.
In the segment, Duncan talks about the one and only time she met Bryant. She was eight months pregnant with a girl. When she told Bryant her baby’s gender, he high-fived her. “Girls are the best,” Duncan remembered him saying. As the conversation went on, Bryant later said, “I’d have five more girls if I could — I’m a girl dad.”
“When I reflect on the tragedy, and that half an hour I spent with Kobe Bryant, two years ago,” said Duncan as she fought tears, “I suppose that the only small source of comfort for me is knowing he died doing what he loved the most: being a dad, being a girl dad.”
So many wanted to emulate Kobe for his talents, his incredible work ethic and drive, his championships, his Mamba Mentality, but he was also devoted to being a dad; the way he fathered, loved and supported his girls, especially during his retirement, is what beckons mimicking.
I longed for a bond like that with my father, especially in my teenage years. I envied my teammates who had it and I thought something was wrong with me because I didn’t. I simply yearned for a father who would be there, who’d put time and energy into me and into helping me achieve my dreams.
While I have since resolved many of my feelings regarding my father, Kobe and Gigi’s love on display was always healing to the lingering pieces of the teenage girl inside of me. It’s easy to focus on what we lack, but their bond gently reminded me of the ways other men, such as Mr. Daniel, stepped up — simply because they cared.
For instance, my Uncle Josh, who recently walked me down the aisle in my August wedding, coached my very first basketball team, and accompanied my mother and me as we roadtripped to WNBA games when I was a kid. He and his family made my travel tournaments, attended countless high school games, and he was even there to watch me ink my letter of intent on National Signing Day.
Likewise, my travel team coach, Coach P., who I’ve known since I was 13, invested in me early in my development. He would pick me up for personal workouts in the gym. He pushed me, went hoarse for me, was there for birthdays, and helped with finances to send me to summer basketball camps at universities when it was tough on my mom. He, too, was at my signing day. He’d call after tough losses in college and say, “Keep your head up, C.J.” He always referred to me as one of his daughters, and I made sure to never miss sending him a Father’s Day text. When my husband and I were dating, he called my husband to vet him. Which reminds me, Coach just phoned me recently and I still need to call him back.
It looked a little different, but I did — and still do — have the bonds I desired with caring men who took the extra steps to let me know that I was important; they cared about me and my dreams, and let me know that my dreams and I were worth the investment and support.
That’s exactly what Kobe did for his girls, and in true Kobe nature, he did it damn well. He was one of the greatest athletes of all time, but he also was a supreme example of what active fatherhood looks like. Thank you for showing me that, Kobe, and for reminding me of the men who played that role in my life — for reminding me of my own girl dads.
I think I’ll go make that phone call now.