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Pic of the Day: “I’ve got this, what, ailment? My doctor, a shrink that I used to go to all the time, he says that in fifty or sixty percent of the cases, a pill really helps. I hate pills. Very dangerous thing, pills. Hate. I’m using the word ‘hate’ here, about pills. Hate. My compliment is, that night when you came over and told me that you would never… all right, well, you were there, you know what you said. Well, my compliment to you is, the next morning, I started taking the pills.” “I don’t quite get how that’s a compliment for me.” “You make me want to be a better man.” “That’s maybe the best compliment of my life.” “Well, maybe I overshot a little, because I was aiming at just enough to keep you from walking out.” (25th Anniversary)
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Pic of the Day: “Dear Basketball, from the moment I started rolling my dad’s tube socks and shooting imaginary game-winning shots in the Great Western Forum, I knew one thing was real: I fell in love with you. A love so deep I gave you my all, from my mind & body to my spirit & soul. As a six-year-old boy, deeply in love with you, I never saw the end of the tunnel. I only saw myself running out of one. And so I ran. I ran up and down every court. After every loose ball for you. You asked for my hustle. I gave you my heart. Because it came with so much more. I played through the sweat and hurt. Not because challenge called me. But because YOU called me. I did everything for YOU. Because that’s what you do. When someone makes you feel as alive as you’ve made me feel. You gave a six-year-old boy his Laker dream. And I’ll always love you for it. But I can’t love you obsessively for much longer. This season is all I have left to give. My heart can take the pounding. My mind can handle the grind. But my body knows it’s time to say goodbye. And that’s OK. I’m ready to let you go. I want you to know now. So we both can savor every moment we have left together. The good and the bad. We have given each other all that we have. And we both know, no matter what I do next, I’ll always be that kid with the rolled up socks. Garbage can in the corner. :05 seconds on the clock. Ball in my hands. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1. Love you always, Kobe.” (5th Anniversary)
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Pic of the Day: ♫ “Phantom faces at the window / Phantom shadows on the floor / Empty chairs at empty tables / Where my friends will meet no more / Oh my friends, my friends / Don’t ask me what your sacrifice was for / Empty chairs at empty tables / Where my friends will sing no more.” ♫ (10th Anniversary)
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Pic of the Day: “Now Mr. Prentice, clearly a most reasonable man, says he has no wish to offend me but wants to know if I’m some kind of a nut. And Mrs. Prentice says that like her husband I’m a burned-out old shell of a man who cannot even remember what it’s like to love a woman the way her son loves my daughter. And strange as it seems, that’s the first statement made to me all day with which I am prepared to take issue. ‘Cause I think you’re wrong, you’re as wrong as you can be. I admit that I hadn’t considered it, hadn’t even thought about it, but I know exactly how he feels about her and there is nothing, absolutely nothing that you son feels for my daughter that I didn’t feel for Christina. Old, yes. Burned-out, certainly. But I can tell you the memories are still there. Clear, intact, indestructible, and they’ll be there if I live to be 110. Where John made his mistake I think was in attaching so much importance to what her mother and I might think. Because in the final analysis it doesn’t matter a damn what we think. The only thing that matters is what they feel, and how much they feel, for each other. And if it’s half of what we felt, that’s everything.” (55th Anniversary)
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Pic of the Day: ♫ “What is that? / It’s priest / Have a little priest / Is it really good? / Sir, it’s too good, at least / Then again, they don’t commit sins of the flesh / So it’s pretty fresh / Awful lot of fat / Only where it sat / Haven’t you got poet or something like that? / No, you see the trouble with poet is how do you know it’s deceased? / Try the priest.” ♫ (15th Anniversary)
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