Kobe Bryant Is the "Hancock" of the NBA: Why The U.S Hates Kobe.

Observing the All-Star game this year without the presence of Kobe was an awkward but eye-opening experience. Thanks to Dwyane Wade and Carmelo Anthony, it was very competitive.  But it just wasn't the same.

I also endured a similar feeling about watching my favorite team finally realizing they have to play defense to compete on a high level in this league. I enjoyed every victory they were able to achieve without the Mamba on the court. 

When Derek Fisher's last-second shot fell way short, it hit me that it didn't really matter how many games the Lakers won without Kobe.  They could never compare to the games they won with Kobe on the floor.

They could never compare to the sheer thrill you get when the Lakers call a time out with five seconds remaining on the clock, and all eyes are glued to the only man in the arena who isn't nervous.

The only man in the arena that wants to take that last shot, regardless of the outcome.  The only man who doesn't care what you think about him if he misses, doesn't care how it will effect his PER.

The only man who doesn't care if he should have passed and let someone else save you.  Kobe Bryant is the only man who would rather not "have to save you" game in and game out, but still barges head-first into that "burning building" because he knows he's the only person on earth capable of doing so at will.

In these last few weeks glancing at NBA games without the pleasure of watching Kobe, I thought to myself:  How would it effect the NBA if Kobe gave in to his nay sayers and quit.  How would it effect the NBA if Kobe just upped and retired right now?

Right then, it dawned on me.  Similar to the Hancock movie, the media, the fans, the haters, they will not be able to appreciate Kobe until he is gone, forever.

Why is Kobe such a polarizing figure in the NBA and today's media?  It's because like Hancock, what you see is exactly what you get.  All because he just saved the day, he doesn't think he is obligated to say just the right thing to capture the media.

Instead, Kobe will tell the media exactly what he said in the huddle before the last second shot and because he gives it to us like it is and not like we want it to be, or think it should be.  Like Hancock, he isn't accepted by the mass public.

Case in point: When Kobe hit the game-winner against Milwaukee after missing the first one, he didn't politely ask for the ball.  He did what all the legends before him has done.  He demanded the ball. As Phil was drawing up the play, Kobe said, "Give me the damn ball."  He could of rephrased what he said when addressing the media, but that isn't Kobe's way.

It is hard for me to admit that I respect and commend him for being the last of a dying breed of athletes that don't compromised the facts to save their image.  Like Hancock, lots of times after Kobe swoops in for the save, he leaves a lot of collateral damage.

Even though in hind-sight, the ends justify the means, it's hard to see that in the thick of things.  Yes, Kobe could have made it a lot easier on all of us if he would have just taken a media etiquette class from M.J., we wouldn't be so Jekyll and Hyde when it comes to him.

You see, Jordan figured it out early on.  He knew it's not what you are or represent.  It's what the mass public and the media thinks you are, or assumes you represent. Thus, the breath-taking Hall of Fame speech bestowed upon us by your airness.

Unlike Jordan hiding his true feelings for years for the sake of his image, Kobe has always been Kobe.  So imagine the game without Kobe for a second: star players will not be obliged to hit game-winning shots.

A player would solely be judged on his PER and not on the memorable moments he has provided his fans with day-in-and-day-out heroics.  Championship rings will lose their significance, while regular season MVP awards and dunk highlight reels will become the new measuring stick for a stellar career.

Players being honored to play for the same team their whole career, regardless of the money thrown at them, would be something only read in the history books.

No more assassin stare-downs, no more genuine passion on the court.  It'll be a league of bright smiling rivalries and high fives after blow out losses.

Can't you people see Kobe isn't only a chip off the old block.  He's the last chip.  When he is gone, the game will never be the same again.

Most fans hate him all the time.  And some fans love him all the time.  But when he is gone, every last one of us will miss him. Forever.