广交天下IC好友，哈哈！！！
一个球迷给科比的一封信
Dear Kobe,
First things first, thank you. Thank you for the incredible memories of amazing plays and jaw-dropping, gut-tearing, monumental efforts that you have shown on the court. Secondly, I realize you probably get an incredible amount of mail and likely won’t see even a small percentage of it. I hope you have a chance to actually read this letter and feel my emotions about you and your game.
I have been a Laker fan since 1982, when at the age of eight I watched Magic Johnson epitomize the essence of pure basketball talent. I was instantly a Laker fan and have never wavered since. Magic, to me, is the pinnacle of the all-around best basketball talent I have ever witnessed.
The day he retired I cried, and I am not one prone to crying. Even though I understood that the best basketball player on the planet would no longer lead my beloved Lakers to victory, I cried because a man I watched, emulated and basketball-worshipped was facing the toughest fight of his life. Though he had fought the good fight against the hated Celtics and came out on top many times, I realized this wasn’t a game. Magic was thwarted by something outside of the realm of basketball, and I remained shell-shocked for months. The ensuing years were dreadful as a fan, as I and many other fans felt cheated by fate and HIV. Yet I watched, and hoped that the Laker organization would rebound and again reach the dizzying heights of the 80抯.
In 1996, a 揷ocky?and talented kid was drafted by Charlotte, and traded to the Lakers. I instantly felt your vibe, and began to watch games with a fervor that I had not felt for a few years. I watched you come off the bench and electrify the crowd and the TV audience with your skills. I thought to myself 搉o way would this be the one?? I watched you shoot airballs from the three-point line against the Jazz in the playoffs and although others around me asked why is he shooting??? I understood. I saw it. I realized. And I bought into the talent you would come to display. At that moment, you became my second favorite Laker to ever don the uniform. (surpassing James Worthy). At that moment, I knew I would live and die by your talent and dedication to winning.
Against the Spurs in the Western Conference Finals, you put on a show the likes of which I had never seen before. I was with family in Texas, and only me, my mom and my brother-in-law were rooting for the Lakers while dozens of Spur fans in the family ridiculed us. It was Game One, and all the pundits were predicting a long, drawn out seven-game series. You shut them up. You broke the backs of the Spurs with outstanding plays time after time, and my family got tired of me yelling your name over and over again. The cry of KOOOOOOBBEEEEEEEEE!! resonated throughout the San Antonio house we were staying at, and I felt I had overstayed my welcome at the end of the third quarter. But I didn’t care at that point, for I was in the presence (albeit only in the form. of television) of greatness. That was a good day.
I had many more good days watching you play, and I marveled countless times at the fact that you were only five years my younger. I vehemently defended your play and abilities against the strange hatred you had earned from many fans. Apparently, being the best in the business begets harsh words, boos, and undeserved criticism. I attended every game you played at America West Arena, and made many an enemy in the crowd as I loudly touted your dominance, as if the fans of the Suns couldn’t see you dismantling them like a chop-shop worker tearing down a car in seconds flat. Those too, were good days.
You went on a tear last season; almost by yourself you raised the Lakers from a potential lottery team back into the playoffs. Finally you were receiving what I felt were far overdue accolades from the press which has never, in my opinion, given you the credit which you deserved. Shaking the ghost of Jordan, which had haunted you since the NBA decided to crown you as the air apparent before you had even shown your own talents, you were finally set apart from the rest of the pack. Only for history to judge is greatness, and you gave history a front-row seat to witness and testify to your dominance of the game. Magic had serious competition in the name of Kobe Bryant.
In July of 2003, I sat transfixed, almost in the same state of mind as I had when Magic announced his retirement, as I heard and read about the allegations against you from Eagle County. Again, I was rendered speechless; again, forces outside of the basketball court were affecting a player that I greatly admired. I did not believe what I heard. You talked to Bill Plaschke in the LA Times and said (paraphrasing) that you know me; I would never do something like that.? I felt secure. I trusted you. Amazingly, charges were filed. Before I even had the chance to feel the shock and dismay that was on the horizon, you held a press conference with your beautiful wife at your side. You proclaimed your innocence and your sorrow of adultery. I believed you, in entirety. But I worried, I抣l admit. Though I believed you to be innocent of the heinous crime you were accused of, I wondered if I was watching Magic抯 press conference all over again. I didn’t cry this time; this was too serious a moment for tears.
You hired the best legal team in the world in Pamela Mackey and Hal Haddon, and in the months that ensued, the case against you began to look like a case of the Keystone Cops meets the Three Stooges, and any lingering doubts I may have had disappeared. From the prosecutorial ignorance and potential misconduct of law enforcement, to the says of Our Lives story your accuser told, I realized that you would come out on top of this one as you had come out on top of every challenge ever set in front of you in the past. I no longer worried about your legal troubles, but instead worried about how this unfortunate incident would affect your play on the court. But to steal from Mad Magazine抯 Alfred E. Neuman: what? Me Worry?? You went on to play with the fervor for the game that is your hallmark. Basketball is your sanctuary, and you are at peace on the court. From game-winning shots, to triple-double performances, and defensive shutdowns to complete dominance of the game, you proved to me that though the tribulations you are experiencing are trying, you remain the best player to lace them up in the league, and perhaps the best that ever has.
I’m not the only one; rocking your jersey at Disneyland (one of your and my family’s favorite places) last Fall I encountered tens of thousands of people, and it was often that I would share a look with someone else in the crowd who would silently nod their head or give a thumbs up in my direction卆 silent show of solidarity in support of you.
Like you, I have a daughter. Mine is three and a half years old, and is already a Laker fan. The first number Faith recognized was the number eight. When she watches games with me she asks: where is Kobe?? (She used to call you Toby, but hey, she was two at the time). She wants me to point you out, and she high-fives me when you make a (routine) spectacular play. She tells all her playground friends that Kobe is her favorite player. You are making an impression on yet another generation of Laker fans. She wears her three-peat Laker shirt I bought outside Staples as pajamas, and is the greatest Laker and Kobe fan this side of four years old. My recent son, Dante (about the age of Natalia) will no doubt be indoctrinated into the Laker mystique just the same. I just thought you might want to know that.
Kobe, I will start the end of this long, boring letter with a few requests. First, that you remain a Laker for the rest of your career. Magic got his statue outside Staples this year, and yours will be forthcoming. I always get emotional when I am in LA and can see a game at Staples, and look up to see the jerseys (especially Magic’s) on the wall. I want yours to be up there someday. I truly do. Second, I hope that you never lose your competitive fire that so defines you and sets you apart from all the other players in the league. Third, I hope you understand just how much you mean to Laker fans. I know you hear the chants, the cheers and, sadly, even the catcalls. But you are far and away the best thing to happen to this team since the 1979 draft.
I own exactly two jerseys: a number 32 and a number 8. I am first and foremost a fan of the game, and of the Lakers, but I admire heart, dedication and talent (which is why I also wish Kevin Garnett could somehow become a Laker overnight.) I rarely put my chips in with a favorite player, but you and Magic are very special for what you have brought to the game and to the fans. One jersey number I own is in the rafters; one is destined to join the other.
Over the past half-year, you have changed dramatically in my eyes. You have matured so much in so many ways. Watching you now I see you as a man and not as a kid. I抣l admit, I抳e thought of you in the past as a prodigy: a young, talented player with the world at your feet. Now, I see you as a man that has realized how lucky you are and has come to an understanding of your place in the world. The difference is dramatic. It is seen in the way you carry yourself, and I don’t even think you realize the changes in your demeanor that show outwardly. Every photo of you, and every time the camera is on you while you play, it is evident: you have become who you truly are. There is no veil over your life you are strong, and you are determined. It is hard to explain, but you carry yourself with a dignity and resolve that sets you apart, again, from your peers, and it is evident to any that have followed your career.
I close with my best Kobe Bryant memory. It isn’t from a game; it is from an appearance on the date, Late Show hosted by Cindy Crawford. You recited some Italian poetry, and then played her in a game of basketball on set. She dropped a ton of sexual innuendo, to which you responded (again, paraphrased) don’t you think there might be some kids watching this?? To me, that defined you outside of your basketball talent. Although I already was in awe of your skills, I was amazed at the maturity you possessed in your teenage years. At that moment, I realized that you had the potential to surpass Magic Johnson as my favorite player of all-time. And despite your recent issues, you have yet to fail me in that belief. I have enjoyed your play immensely, and wish to continue enjoying you in a Laker uniform. for years to come.
My family and I wish you the best of luck in all upcoming endeavors, and we hope to see you truly become a Laker For Life.? Go get ring Number Four, and then continue the rebuilding process of your legacy that thousands of kids will measure themselves against in the future. ~~
First things first, thank you. Thank you for the incredible memories of amazing plays and jaw-dropping, gut-tearing, monumental efforts that you have shown on the court. Secondly, I realize you probably get an incredible amount of mail and likely won’t see even a small percentage of it. I hope you have a chance to actually read this letter and feel my emotions about you and your game.
I have been a Laker fan since 1982, when at the age of eight I watched Magic Johnson epitomize the essence of pure basketball talent. I was instantly a Laker fan and have never wavered since. Magic, to me, is the pinnacle of the all-around best basketball talent I have ever witnessed.
The day he retired I cried, and I am not one prone to crying. Even though I understood that the best basketball player on the planet would no longer lead my beloved Lakers to victory, I cried because a man I watched, emulated and basketball-worshipped was facing the toughest fight of his life. Though he had fought the good fight against the hated Celtics and came out on top many times, I realized this wasn’t a game. Magic was thwarted by something outside of the realm of basketball, and I remained shell-shocked for months. The ensuing years were dreadful as a fan, as I and many other fans felt cheated by fate and HIV. Yet I watched, and hoped that the Laker organization would rebound and again reach the dizzying heights of the 80抯.
In 1996, a 揷ocky?and talented kid was drafted by Charlotte, and traded to the Lakers. I instantly felt your vibe, and began to watch games with a fervor that I had not felt for a few years. I watched you come off the bench and electrify the crowd and the TV audience with your skills. I thought to myself 搉o way would this be the one?? I watched you shoot airballs from the three-point line against the Jazz in the playoffs and although others around me asked why is he shooting??? I understood. I saw it. I realized. And I bought into the talent you would come to display. At that moment, you became my second favorite Laker to ever don the uniform. (surpassing James Worthy). At that moment, I knew I would live and die by your talent and dedication to winning.
Against the Spurs in the Western Conference Finals, you put on a show the likes of which I had never seen before. I was with family in Texas, and only me, my mom and my brother-in-law were rooting for the Lakers while dozens of Spur fans in the family ridiculed us. It was Game One, and all the pundits were predicting a long, drawn out seven-game series. You shut them up. You broke the backs of the Spurs with outstanding plays time after time, and my family got tired of me yelling your name over and over again. The cry of KOOOOOOBBEEEEEEEEE!! resonated throughout the San Antonio house we were staying at, and I felt I had overstayed my welcome at the end of the third quarter. But I didn’t care at that point, for I was in the presence (albeit only in the form. of television) of greatness. That was a good day.
I had many more good days watching you play, and I marveled countless times at the fact that you were only five years my younger. I vehemently defended your play and abilities against the strange hatred you had earned from many fans. Apparently, being the best in the business begets harsh words, boos, and undeserved criticism. I attended every game you played at America West Arena, and made many an enemy in the crowd as I loudly touted your dominance, as if the fans of the Suns couldn’t see you dismantling them like a chop-shop worker tearing down a car in seconds flat. Those too, were good days.
You went on a tear last season; almost by yourself you raised the Lakers from a potential lottery team back into the playoffs. Finally you were receiving what I felt were far overdue accolades from the press which has never, in my opinion, given you the credit which you deserved. Shaking the ghost of Jordan, which had haunted you since the NBA decided to crown you as the air apparent before you had even shown your own talents, you were finally set apart from the rest of the pack. Only for history to judge is greatness, and you gave history a front-row seat to witness and testify to your dominance of the game. Magic had serious competition in the name of Kobe Bryant.
In July of 2003, I sat transfixed, almost in the same state of mind as I had when Magic announced his retirement, as I heard and read about the allegations against you from Eagle County. Again, I was rendered speechless; again, forces outside of the basketball court were affecting a player that I greatly admired. I did not believe what I heard. You talked to Bill Plaschke in the LA Times and said (paraphrasing) that you know me; I would never do something like that.? I felt secure. I trusted you. Amazingly, charges were filed. Before I even had the chance to feel the shock and dismay that was on the horizon, you held a press conference with your beautiful wife at your side. You proclaimed your innocence and your sorrow of adultery. I believed you, in entirety. But I worried, I抣l admit. Though I believed you to be innocent of the heinous crime you were accused of, I wondered if I was watching Magic抯 press conference all over again. I didn’t cry this time; this was too serious a moment for tears.
You hired the best legal team in the world in Pamela Mackey and Hal Haddon, and in the months that ensued, the case against you began to look like a case of the Keystone Cops meets the Three Stooges, and any lingering doubts I may have had disappeared. From the prosecutorial ignorance and potential misconduct of law enforcement, to the says of Our Lives story your accuser told, I realized that you would come out on top of this one as you had come out on top of every challenge ever set in front of you in the past. I no longer worried about your legal troubles, but instead worried about how this unfortunate incident would affect your play on the court. But to steal from Mad Magazine抯 Alfred E. Neuman: what? Me Worry?? You went on to play with the fervor for the game that is your hallmark. Basketball is your sanctuary, and you are at peace on the court. From game-winning shots, to triple-double performances, and defensive shutdowns to complete dominance of the game, you proved to me that though the tribulations you are experiencing are trying, you remain the best player to lace them up in the league, and perhaps the best that ever has.
I’m not the only one; rocking your jersey at Disneyland (one of your and my family’s favorite places) last Fall I encountered tens of thousands of people, and it was often that I would share a look with someone else in the crowd who would silently nod their head or give a thumbs up in my direction卆 silent show of solidarity in support of you.
Like you, I have a daughter. Mine is three and a half years old, and is already a Laker fan. The first number Faith recognized was the number eight. When she watches games with me she asks: where is Kobe?? (She used to call you Toby, but hey, she was two at the time). She wants me to point you out, and she high-fives me when you make a (routine) spectacular play. She tells all her playground friends that Kobe is her favorite player. You are making an impression on yet another generation of Laker fans. She wears her three-peat Laker shirt I bought outside Staples as pajamas, and is the greatest Laker and Kobe fan this side of four years old. My recent son, Dante (about the age of Natalia) will no doubt be indoctrinated into the Laker mystique just the same. I just thought you might want to know that.
Kobe, I will start the end of this long, boring letter with a few requests. First, that you remain a Laker for the rest of your career. Magic got his statue outside Staples this year, and yours will be forthcoming. I always get emotional when I am in LA and can see a game at Staples, and look up to see the jerseys (especially Magic’s) on the wall. I want yours to be up there someday. I truly do. Second, I hope that you never lose your competitive fire that so defines you and sets you apart from all the other players in the league. Third, I hope you understand just how much you mean to Laker fans. I know you hear the chants, the cheers and, sadly, even the catcalls. But you are far and away the best thing to happen to this team since the 1979 draft.
I own exactly two jerseys: a number 32 and a number 8. I am first and foremost a fan of the game, and of the Lakers, but I admire heart, dedication and talent (which is why I also wish Kevin Garnett could somehow become a Laker overnight.) I rarely put my chips in with a favorite player, but you and Magic are very special for what you have brought to the game and to the fans. One jersey number I own is in the rafters; one is destined to join the other.
Over the past half-year, you have changed dramatically in my eyes. You have matured so much in so many ways. Watching you now I see you as a man and not as a kid. I抣l admit, I抳e thought of you in the past as a prodigy: a young, talented player with the world at your feet. Now, I see you as a man that has realized how lucky you are and has come to an understanding of your place in the world. The difference is dramatic. It is seen in the way you carry yourself, and I don’t even think you realize the changes in your demeanor that show outwardly. Every photo of you, and every time the camera is on you while you play, it is evident: you have become who you truly are. There is no veil over your life you are strong, and you are determined. It is hard to explain, but you carry yourself with a dignity and resolve that sets you apart, again, from your peers, and it is evident to any that have followed your career.
I close with my best Kobe Bryant memory. It isn’t from a game; it is from an appearance on the date, Late Show hosted by Cindy Crawford. You recited some Italian poetry, and then played her in a game of basketball on set. She dropped a ton of sexual innuendo, to which you responded (again, paraphrased) don’t you think there might be some kids watching this?? To me, that defined you outside of your basketball talent. Although I already was in awe of your skills, I was amazed at the maturity you possessed in your teenage years. At that moment, I realized that you had the potential to surpass Magic Johnson as my favorite player of all-time. And despite your recent issues, you have yet to fail me in that belief. I have enjoyed your play immensely, and wish to continue enjoying you in a Laker uniform. for years to come.
My family and I wish you the best of luck in all upcoming endeavors, and we hope to see you truly become a Laker For Life.? Go get ring Number Four, and then continue the rebuilding process of your legacy that thousands of kids will measure themselves against in the future. ~~
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haoyanjun168 / 2008-04-25 13:15:13
- 粗略看了一下，写的不错！
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haoyanjun168 / 2008-04-25 13:14:50
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