We only get one shot at this.
On the court. At home. In the world.
And after we’re gone we don’t get to control what’s said about us – about the wins, the fame, the accusations, the ending. About how we inspired a great many people and hurt others. About what kind of parent we were.
How hard we played is part of it. The impact we had on people – good and bad – is more of it.
What strikes me most is that – for all the glory – at the end of the day Kobe was the same thing that I am. He was a parent. And he died doing what parents do.
He died taking his kid to a game. A kid he loved. The game he loved.
At the end of the day, you want the love to shine through the brightest. All the championships in the world pale in comparison to the love between parents and their kids.
Fame is accessible to few of us. Love is accessible to all of us. If we’re going to be remembered for something, that should be it.
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