DAMN, KOBE!! By William Fredrick Cooper
Written July 19, 2003
Like a giggly High School kid on the first day of new classes, I had my gear all ready to sport. Today was my day to chill at the Harlem Book Fair and support other authors who, like me, are in celebration of their accomplishments in our literary village. Selling books is a celebration, cynics say? Hell, every breath we take is an accomplishment these days. Instead of reading novels and embarking on journeys of adventure and excitement, many of our youth today are grabbing guns. Role models like doctors and lawyers are obsolete, having been replaced by gangster rappers, tote-carrying drug dealers, and immoral men, affectionately (yeah, if ever there was an oxymoron) known as playas. Our girls dress like Li'l Kim to go to school, y'all. And as a cherry topping befitting a negative sundae it's un-cool to smile in public, to say hello to a neighbor, and to tell Johnny not to do wrong, because parents who think they're raising kids insist rudely that he's not your child.
Written July 19, 2003
Like a giggly High School kid on the first day of new classes, I had my gear all ready to sport. Today was my day to chill at the Harlem Book Fair and support other authors who, like me, are in celebration of their accomplishments in our literary village. Selling books is a celebration, cynics say? Hell, every breath we take is an accomplishment these days. Instead of reading novels and embarking on journeys of adventure and excitement, many of our youth today are grabbing guns. Role models like doctors and lawyers are obsolete, having been replaced by gangster rappers, tote-carrying drug dealers, and immoral men, affectionately (yeah, if ever there was an oxymoron) known as playas. Our girls dress like Li'l Kim to go to school, y'all. And as a cherry topping befitting a negative sundae it's un-cool to smile in public, to say hello to a neighbor, and to tell Johnny not to do wrong, because parents who think they're raising kids insist rudely that he's not your child.
Love and respect for peers and elders seems archaic as opposed to en vogue.
So there I was, coming home early last night to get a good night's sleep; for Saturday, I would be on my feet all day, celebrating the efforts of my peers. Hell, I had to find out where the Book Fair's secret "After Party" was, so I can show them that some scribes are explosive dancers as well.
I mean, y'all, I even had my outfit picked out for the Book Fair. Black shorts, white AND ONE Marbury’s, my trademark sunglasses (Shit, I earned the right to look cool for a day - Smile) And I was going to rock a traditional LAKERS Warm-up. You know, the ones Jerry West and Elgin Baylor wore in the 1960's with LOS ANGELES spelled out in purple cursive print against a slammin' white background. When Wesley Snipes called Christopher Williams a "Pretty Mutha Fucka" in New Jack City, he was talking about what I was going to be a few hours from now.
And then, I turned the TV on ESPN2, and saw Kobe Bryant, his wife, and all kinds of legal representation at a table. To call the atmosphere somber is a gross understatement. It was like a funeral of a lost love one. Sad to say, the coming months might prove just that for basketball fans like myself, not to mention mothers looking for that oh-so-rare sighting of a public, positive role model.
You know, I always knew Kobe Bryant's would have a purpose in life. Having been born in Philly, the real "Employee # 8" (No apologies to the Boston Celtic's Antioine Walker, who had the title during late 90's REEBOK Commercials.) had spent his years of refinement in Italy, under the careful watch of his father, Joe "JellyBean" Bryant. Effectively Articulating the language of Tony Soprano fluently, his basketball game is like the perfect jazz song.
And no, I'm not referring to that CD 101.9, Kenny G/Najee crap that people have the audacity to call real jazz. I speak of Bebop and Bird, Count Basie and Coltrane, ‘The Little Giant’ Johnny Griffin and Gillespie, and Ellington and Eubie Blake. Old School jazz, where the clashing of chords, brass and basses seemed perfect in their unique world of musical perfection.
Kobe's game is like that. A perfect blend of funk and finesse; a fantastic fusion of flash and fundamentals. He could shake you to ground with a paralyzing crossover dribble, posterize you with a vicious, 360 slam, and, if bored, simply step out and scare opponents stiff with a pretty potent long range weapon known as a jump shot. He has it all in his roundball mall of basketball goodies.
I thought he had it all in his life off the hardwood. Respected parents, money that will funds grandkids and great grandkids for life, a beautiful wife, and, as of January, a new born child.
In a matter of time, I may have to say, with a tremendous amount of regret, that he didn't.
What the prosecutors in coming months hope to prove in the coming months is that he didn't as well. He couldn't have that 19-year old blonde, all-American mountain girl who auditioned for American Idol. They will say that instead of accepting that fact, he took her by way of sexual assault, then, in a fashion that rivaled mob-style getaway, broke out before sunrise; hours before a spa appointment. I pray that move was more of a deflection of attention as opposed to an admission of guilt.
I certainly hope so, for his sake. While I'm not racist, I had my fill of all this interracial turmoil with the OJ trial, which depicted a promiscuous, cocaine-addicted, white woman as a larger than life heroine against a psychotic, obsessive, possesive Ex-jock with a short fuse. This is not to say Nicole Brown and Ron Goldman deserved their tragic end - HELL NO. But there's something about Black and White in the enterntainment arena that doesn't sit well. My opinion is simple: It doesn't mix.
And maybe its some of us men. Are we that scared of the anger and attitudes of our sistas that we need to run across the street the first chance we get, even for aggressive sex? Do athletes and entertainers think that they're all after our money? Now I know mothers who experienced turmoil and turbulence at the hands of black men are raising their women to be independent and demand security from men if involved, but are our women that greedy for money and unearned, underserved rewards? Aren't they finding their own shine, or does that growing sentiment about the black woman's demands on us being too much (MAYBE GUYS, THEY'RE TRYING TO PUSH US TO TO BE THE BEST WE CAN BE. IT MIGHT JUST HAVE TO TAKE A WOMAN MAKING US PRESIDENT IN ORDER FOR US TO GET IT. ) cause us to look for consolation and comfort from other races, even to the point of taking, as opposed to asking?
This is not to say the alleged victim is a bad person because of her skin color. She's a woman, and if Kobe assaulted...No... RAPED her, he should be prosecuted to the limits of the law. Given his circumstances, Kobe knew he had a lot to lose. And when Black mistreats white in this country, in any way, you run the risk of losing everything. Again, look at a freshly squeezed out of money glass of Juice as Exhibit A.
Yeah, their thinking is WELL, SO WHAT? So what they brought us against our will, then, whipped, hosed and lynched us when we fought back. So what they raped our women and killed our men with Tuskegee experiments. So what ?
But they feel as if with the advent of affirmative action, the playing field is leveled. Sure, and I believe Halle Berry won her Oscar for playing a positive role. Yeah, Denzel Washington too. Throw us a bone to shut us up, and we're supposed to be grateful. Hell, I was at a conference this year, and authors were saying that in spite our ever-growing sales numbers, they still don't how to market us. DUH- do they really want to know???
So there I was, coming home early last night to get a good night's sleep; for Saturday, I would be on my feet all day, celebrating the efforts of my peers. Hell, I had to find out where the Book Fair's secret "After Party" was, so I can show them that some scribes are explosive dancers as well.
I mean, y'all, I even had my outfit picked out for the Book Fair. Black shorts, white AND ONE Marbury’s, my trademark sunglasses (Shit, I earned the right to look cool for a day - Smile) And I was going to rock a traditional LAKERS Warm-up. You know, the ones Jerry West and Elgin Baylor wore in the 1960's with LOS ANGELES spelled out in purple cursive print against a slammin' white background. When Wesley Snipes called Christopher Williams a "Pretty Mutha Fucka" in New Jack City, he was talking about what I was going to be a few hours from now.
And then, I turned the TV on ESPN2, and saw Kobe Bryant, his wife, and all kinds of legal representation at a table. To call the atmosphere somber is a gross understatement. It was like a funeral of a lost love one. Sad to say, the coming months might prove just that for basketball fans like myself, not to mention mothers looking for that oh-so-rare sighting of a public, positive role model.
You know, I always knew Kobe Bryant's would have a purpose in life. Having been born in Philly, the real "Employee # 8" (No apologies to the Boston Celtic's Antioine Walker, who had the title during late 90's REEBOK Commercials.) had spent his years of refinement in Italy, under the careful watch of his father, Joe "JellyBean" Bryant. Effectively Articulating the language of Tony Soprano fluently, his basketball game is like the perfect jazz song.
And no, I'm not referring to that CD 101.9, Kenny G/Najee crap that people have the audacity to call real jazz. I speak of Bebop and Bird, Count Basie and Coltrane, ‘The Little Giant’ Johnny Griffin and Gillespie, and Ellington and Eubie Blake. Old School jazz, where the clashing of chords, brass and basses seemed perfect in their unique world of musical perfection.
Kobe's game is like that. A perfect blend of funk and finesse; a fantastic fusion of flash and fundamentals. He could shake you to ground with a paralyzing crossover dribble, posterize you with a vicious, 360 slam, and, if bored, simply step out and scare opponents stiff with a pretty potent long range weapon known as a jump shot. He has it all in his roundball mall of basketball goodies.
I thought he had it all in his life off the hardwood. Respected parents, money that will funds grandkids and great grandkids for life, a beautiful wife, and, as of January, a new born child.
In a matter of time, I may have to say, with a tremendous amount of regret, that he didn't.
What the prosecutors in coming months hope to prove in the coming months is that he didn't as well. He couldn't have that 19-year old blonde, all-American mountain girl who auditioned for American Idol. They will say that instead of accepting that fact, he took her by way of sexual assault, then, in a fashion that rivaled mob-style getaway, broke out before sunrise; hours before a spa appointment. I pray that move was more of a deflection of attention as opposed to an admission of guilt.
I certainly hope so, for his sake. While I'm not racist, I had my fill of all this interracial turmoil with the OJ trial, which depicted a promiscuous, cocaine-addicted, white woman as a larger than life heroine against a psychotic, obsessive, possesive Ex-jock with a short fuse. This is not to say Nicole Brown and Ron Goldman deserved their tragic end - HELL NO. But there's something about Black and White in the enterntainment arena that doesn't sit well. My opinion is simple: It doesn't mix.
And maybe its some of us men. Are we that scared of the anger and attitudes of our sistas that we need to run across the street the first chance we get, even for aggressive sex? Do athletes and entertainers think that they're all after our money? Now I know mothers who experienced turmoil and turbulence at the hands of black men are raising their women to be independent and demand security from men if involved, but are our women that greedy for money and unearned, underserved rewards? Aren't they finding their own shine, or does that growing sentiment about the black woman's demands on us being too much (MAYBE GUYS, THEY'RE TRYING TO PUSH US TO TO BE THE BEST WE CAN BE. IT MIGHT JUST HAVE TO TAKE A WOMAN MAKING US PRESIDENT IN ORDER FOR US TO GET IT. ) cause us to look for consolation and comfort from other races, even to the point of taking, as opposed to asking?
This is not to say the alleged victim is a bad person because of her skin color. She's a woman, and if Kobe assaulted...No... RAPED her, he should be prosecuted to the limits of the law. Given his circumstances, Kobe knew he had a lot to lose. And when Black mistreats white in this country, in any way, you run the risk of losing everything. Again, look at a freshly squeezed out of money glass of Juice as Exhibit A.
Yeah, their thinking is WELL, SO WHAT? So what they brought us against our will, then, whipped, hosed and lynched us when we fought back. So what they raped our women and killed our men with Tuskegee experiments. So what ?
But they feel as if with the advent of affirmative action, the playing field is leveled. Sure, and I believe Halle Berry won her Oscar for playing a positive role. Yeah, Denzel Washington too. Throw us a bone to shut us up, and we're supposed to be grateful. Hell, I was at a conference this year, and authors were saying that in spite our ever-growing sales numbers, they still don't how to market us. DUH- do they really want to know???
Wait, I got it…Sex, guns and drugs are the African-American way.
DAMN, KOBE! Why couldn't you have used better judgment? Couldn't you have kept your d*** in your pants till you got home? Sometimes, masturbation can keep you out of trouble, especially in Eagle, Colorado, where's there's very little of us. I was in a Utah airport in 1999 for an hour, decked out in a black leather coat, and I got twisted looks. DAMN, KOBE!! Didn't you see the danger of it all when you played the Denver Nuggets?
DAMN, KOBE!!! Don't you realize as many of our youth loved you? Damn, I loved that McDonald's commercial when the kids needed another guy for their 5-on-5 and picked you. We won't be seeing that anymore. Didn't you see that we hoped you would be different from most of our athletes, many of whom have kids all over the place from different women? DAMN, KOBE!!!! Didn't you see that our race needed more shining examples of you, that of an intelligent, articulate athlete doing the right things with his money and life?
DAMN, KOBE!!! Selfishly Speaking, didn't you know that I was really looking forward to rocking that LAKER warmup today?
DAMN, KOBE!
DAMN, KOBE! Why couldn't you have used better judgment? Couldn't you have kept your d*** in your pants till you got home? Sometimes, masturbation can keep you out of trouble, especially in Eagle, Colorado, where's there's very little of us. I was in a Utah airport in 1999 for an hour, decked out in a black leather coat, and I got twisted looks. DAMN, KOBE!! Didn't you see the danger of it all when you played the Denver Nuggets?
DAMN, KOBE!!! Don't you realize as many of our youth loved you? Damn, I loved that McDonald's commercial when the kids needed another guy for their 5-on-5 and picked you. We won't be seeing that anymore. Didn't you see that we hoped you would be different from most of our athletes, many of whom have kids all over the place from different women? DAMN, KOBE!!!! Didn't you see that our race needed more shining examples of you, that of an intelligent, articulate athlete doing the right things with his money and life?
DAMN, KOBE!!! Selfishly Speaking, didn't you know that I was really looking forward to rocking that LAKER warmup today?
DAMN, KOBE!
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