When I first read the news, I scanned my mind for other Kobes I know. Six hours later, I still can’t believe I’m typing this: Kobe Bryant is dead at 41, alongside eight other people, including his daughter, Gianna, in a helicopter that crashed en route to his perpetual destination: a basketball game.
In the time between when the news broke and traditional outlets confirmed it, I found myself wondering if it was a hoax, not only because I wanted it not to be true, but because it’s hard to imagine Kobe Bryant ever dying.