How Kobe’s Mamba Mentality inspired a Girl Dad like me.

“Reminds me of you. My heart. Love you brother.”

That was the message my friend DeMario sent me along with a video of Elle Duncan, ESPN analyst, telling her moving Kobe story.

Buzz. Message from Scott, fellow Girl Dad.

Link including the video of Elle Duncan’s Kobe Story.

Buzz. Message from Kelly.

Link including the video of Elle Duncan’s Kobe Story with a message attached “Thought of you.”

Every time I opened that link I watched and I cried harder, and harder, and harder.

Why is this so painful?

You see, I’m a member of this exclusive club. A club of men who’ve been blessed with daughters. Some of us have been blessed with only daughters. I’m in it. My buddy Scott’s in it. But the most high profile member of our exclusive club was none other than Kobe Bryant.

He was our advocate, our role model, our fearless leader.

We are the Girl Dads.

And as a Girl Dad, I am absolutely heartbroken over the loss of our greatest champion, his wonderful daughter, six other dedicated young athletes, parents and coaches and one trusted pilot, all of whom ended their journey on earth Sunday, January 26th en route to a youth basketball game at the Mamba Academy.

One look through my Instagram page will show there’s not much I care about more than my family and basketball. Everything in my life revolves around these two. It’s why every August when the NBA releases their schedule I scramble to find when the Pacers are playing in Northern California to immediately put it on our family calendar.

That’s why the fourth Thursday of every June, everyone in my family knows it’s NBA Draft day. This is the day I take off from work, do something fun, play some basketball, grab some snacks and watch every single draft pick, 1–60. It’s a tradition I’ve continued since 1996 when this nine-year-old boy watched a seventeen-year-old Kobe Bryant get drafted by the Charlotte Hornets and ultimately traded to the Los Angeles Lakers.

Over the course of twenty years, I watched Kobe go from a teenager to dunk champion to NBA champion to villain to 81 to 24 to redemption to NBA champion again to injured to Mamba to glory, all leading up to my favorite Kobe of all, Girl Dad.

I loved Dad Kobe.

The juxtaposition between someone who was known on the court for being ruthless, a killer, the Black Mamba also being known at home as a soft, fuzzy dad was poetically perfect.

Not only did I love that Kobe was a dedicated father, but I also loved that he was a Girl Dad.

The Bryant family. Kobe, Vanessa, Natalia, Gianna, Bianka and Capri

It’s why when I saw that Kobe and his wife Vanessa were expecting their third child I was hoping it was a girl.

And when Kobe and Vanessa announced they were expecting a fourth, the world begged “Come on! Kobe’s gotta have a boy!”

I laughed, knowing that men all over the country were hoping for a Kobe Bryant Jr. The son and protege of the greatest Laker ever to take over as the King of Los Angeles in 2037, win title after title while pops sat on the sidelines, smiling, nodding in approval as he watched his son assume the throne that once belonged to him.

Well, number four was also a girl. Kobe was a certified Girl Dad, just like me.

I always wanted a daughter. When Allie and I found out in December 2015 that we were expecting a child I wanted it to be a girl. I was elated, but not surprised when the technician stepped away from the screen and said: “Yup, it’s a girl!”

Raegan was on her way.

In October 2018, when we found out we were expecting again, one of my initial thoughts was “I kinda hope it’s another girl.” Two months later as we opened the email, standing in front of our Christmas tree, my inner wish came true.

Sienna was on her way.

I was raised by two strong women. Both my Mom and Grandma were pillars to my success as a man. The concept of the patriarchy never resonated with me as I’d rather my memories, my intentionality, my words to live on over my last name.

I envisioned myself as the dad who dressed up and cheerfully attended father/daughter dances. I anticipated being in the front row at ballet recitals, participating in tea parties. I saw myself at my girl’s basketball games, holding up embarrassing signs like “Daddy loves you!” while cheering them on. I saw myself advocating for my daughters, celebrating my daughters, empowering my girls to be strong, confident, and capable. And if one day we have a son, together he and I will lift up our girls in meaningful and purposeful ways.

As a boy I wanted to be Kobe the Laker. As a man I wanted to be Kobe the dad.

I always admired how intentional he was with his daughter, Gianna. Gigi was a talented hooper in her own right and when I saw pictures of them together at WNBA games I’d be inspired. The idea that you’d be more likely to catch Kobe at a Sparks game than a Lakers game was important. It’s important for girls to see. It’s necessary for boys to see.

Kobe’s love for the WNBA made me more intentional in terms of the games I watched. I made it a point to watch the WNBA more often, watch women’s college hoops, regardless of if my daughter was around. I wanted to be an advocate for women’s hoops, not another man who dismisses an entire league of basketball players because “they don’t dunk enough.” I wanted to be the Girl Dad who teaches my daughters about Ann Meyers, Cheryl Miller, Lisa Leslie, Elena Delle Donne and of course, Diana Taurasi.

Diana Taurasi, aka the White Mamba (a nickname given to her by Kobe himself), is my favorite player. Diana is a three-time NCAA champ, nine-time WNBA all-star, three-time WNBA champ, four-time Olympic gold medalist. Diana is an absolute legend. Who else gets paid to rest for a season?

Now imagine my eyes when Raegan and I are walking around LAX airport during a layover, Allie, her and I coming home from a Pacers game, when we walk right into Diana Taurasi, her wife Penny Taylor and their 10-month-old son, Leo.

What?!

I’m contemplating how to spark a conversation with a living legend and then Raegan does the work for me;

“Hi, baby!”

Raegan walked right up to Leo and patted his head like we knew them.

“I’m so sorry! Do you mind if she says hi?” I ask.

“Not at all!” Both Penny and Diana respond.

Now here I am, having an impromptu playdate with legends of the game, not to mention my favorite WNBA player of all time, and while our kids continued to play I’m trying to play it cool, prove I’m legit.

We talked about Reggie Miller and the beauty of Bankers Life Fieldhouse. We talked about the old Arco Arena, home of the 2005 WNBA Champions Sacramento Monarchs. We talked about Diana’s epic 4th quarter against the Seattle Storm in Game 2 of the 2018 WNBA semifinals. We even talked about Basketball: A love story, the book I was coincidentally reading on the plane that featured a chapter about her and the UConn women’s basketball team.

It was such a funny dad moment for me because during that ten minutes all I wanted to do was prove to Diana Taurasi and Penny Taylor that I’m a good dad. One who supports women not solely because I have a daughter but because that’s who I am.

I’m a Girl Dad!

Elle Duncan’s story broke me. 96 seconds of her personal experience with Kobe Bryant filled my spirit with emotions from joy to sadness to a continuous crushing defeat that I’ve felt since Sunday.

Elle’s story resonated with a wave of people. It’s why #girldad quickly became a trending topic and remained one for all of Tuesday.

Hearing how joyous Kobe was to have all daughters. Knowing that he’d have five more if he could. The story spoke to a side of Kobe the world was just beginning to see. Hearing him glowingly speak about Gianna, who he said was better than him at that age, simply wrecked me. I sobbed in anger, reminded of the fact that we were robbed of future nuggets of basketball and parenting wisdom. We were robbed of future Oscar-worthy projects, future kids’ books, future sports academies. Vanessa was robbed of her husband and partner of 20 years along with her thirteen-year-old daughter. Natalia, Bianka, and Capri were robbed of father/daughter dances, embarrassing dad jokes, sleepovers with their sister, the maid of honor at their weddings. The loss of Kobe is tragic. The loss of Gianna is just plain cruel.

I don’t know where to find the silver lining here but that Mamba Mentality tells me to keep focusing on the journey, don’t give up, overcome my deepest fears. Right now, at this moment, my biggest fear is being taken from my girls, missing out on every Girl Dad milestone that’s been taken from Kobe. Much of my sadness is rooted in a fear that there are some things in life I can’t control, fate being the biggest.

But for now, I am here and you know what? Kobe is here, too. Gigi is here. Painfully not in the physical but the memories of their work ethic remain. The tenacity of their focus lives on. The example that Kobe set as a Girl Dad will never be diminished.

For twenty years, Kobe showed the basketball world how focus, determination, and tenacity can help you become an all-time great. A legend with the ability to impact millions. Kobe also showed us that the Mamba Mentality doesn’t solely live on the court or in the gym. Mamba Mentality is a mindset to be brought to any job, any circumstance. Most importantly, Kobe showed us that Mamba Mentality is meant to be brought into the home in how we love and honor our family. Mamba Mentality is dedicating your all to fatherhood. In honor of Kobe, Gigi, John, Keri, Alyssa, Sarah, Payton, Christina and Ara that Mamba Mentality will live in me forever.

God has given me a wonderful wife and the incredible privilege of being Raegan and Sienna’s dad. Every so often I reach out to dads, Girl Dads, and ask for advice on how to love my girls better.

Thankfully Elle Duncan was kind enough to share some wise advice given to her by the late fearless leader of our Girl Dad club.

“Just be grateful that you’ve been given that gift because girls are amazing.”

From one Girl Dad to another, thank you, Kobe.