I’ve been thinking a lot lately about my friend who passed away recently — and the happy memories we shared. One of those memories brought me back to an unexpected night many years ago, and I wanted to share it with you all.
I’m originally from Boston, and I moved out to Los Angeles to go to graduate school and get my master’s degree in creative writing. Growing up, I was a die-hard Celtics fan — my friend who passed away and I watched every game together. We were big Larry Bird guys.
In the 80s, it was always Celtics versus Lakers. And while I would never say this out loud back then — deep down, I secretly admired a few Lakers players. I was a huge Magic Johnson fan, and I loved Kareem Abdul-Jabbar. But still, Celtics all the way.
When I told my friends in Boston that I was moving to L.A., they said, “No matter what else you do, don’t become a Lakers fan. Please. It’ll break all of our hearts.”My friend who passed said the same thing:
“Whatever you do, please, please don’t become a Lakers fan.”
And I said, “Don’t worry. Never going to happen. I’m a Celtics fan through and through.”
A Night in L.A.
So, I moved to Los Angeles. I was living in a hotel while I went to school, and next to the hotel there was this bowling alley with a little café attached. I used to eat dinner there regularly before my night classes.
One night, I showed up as usual, but the owner stopped me at the door and said, “Sorry, the bowling alley’s closed for a private party tonight.”
I said, “What’s going on?”He said, “We have some of the Lakers in here bowling right now.”
I didn’t know what to do — I just wanted dinner.
And then, out of the shadows, walks Kobe Bryant.
No entourage. No cameras. No big scene. Just Kobe.
He came right up to the door and asked, “What’s going on?”
The owner said, “Oh, this is Michael — he eats dinner here all the time, but I told him we’re closed for the Lakers’ private event.”
Kobe looked at me and said, “When did Michael get here for dinner?”
A few seconds later, the owner let me in. Suddenly, it was just me, the owner, and Kobe Bryant in the café.
I sat down, got my food, still kind of stunned. And then Kobe came over, sat down at my table, and said,
“I’m going to sit with you for a while. Tell me about yourself.”
So I did.
I told him about grad school, about writing a book, about growing up with a disability. He asked me genuine questions — about my life, my dreams — never once about basketball or fame. Not once did he say, “Do you want a picture? Do you want an autograph?” He just wanted to talk.
At one point I mentioned that I was from Boston.
Kobe smiled and said,
“Well, your only problem is that you’re a Celtics fan.”
I laughed and said, “Yeah, guilty as charged.”
Then he said,
“No, no — I might be a Celtics fan, but I’m a fan of you, sir.”
That moment stuck with me.
From Celtics to Kobe
That’s how this lifelong Celtics fan became a Kobe Bryant fan too.
Before he left, Kobe said,
“Good luck with everything, man. You’re going to do great things.”
Then he stood up, gave me a nod, and walked out the door.
I went to class afterward, still processing what had just happened.
That was my Kobe story.
And though I’ll always be a Celtics fan at heart, a part of me will forever be a Kobe fan — not just for the player he was, but for the person he was that night: humble, kind, curious, and real.
Rest easy, my friend — and thank you, Kobe. 💚💜
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