RUCKER PARK DIARIES:

After scoring 36 points, grabbing six rebounds, dishing out four assists, and blocking two shots in the 106-103 Game 3 win, Kobe showed up at Game 4 wearing a vintage, white, Michael Jordan Bulls No. 23 jersey. The statement he made could not have been louder had he screamed it to the heavens himself.

Despite being on the rare precipice of winning a third-straight NBA championship, Kobe’s goals were obviously much bigger than playing Lil’ Cease to Shaq’s Biggie. In Game 4, in addition to his 25 points, six rebounds and two steals, he led the Lakers with eight assists in their 113-107 sweep-clinching, series victory.

Most 23-year-olds, after such an incredible season filled with noteworthy accomplishments, would not have considered making an appearance on the playground, even if it was the hallowed grounds of Holcombe Rucker Park. But Kobe has never been your average NBA superstar and champion.

His father, Joe “Jelly Bean” Bryant, was a Philadelphia schoolboy standout at Bartram High, the same school that produced one of the game’s all-time great guards in Earl “the Pearl’ Monroe. Jelly Bean was also once a teammate with the inimitable Julius Erving on the Philadelphia 76ers in the late 1970s, before embarking on a very successful post-NBA career overseas. So Kobe had a historian’s perspective and appreciation of basketball greatness that not many people his age possessed.

And like Monroe and Erving before him, Kobe knew that in order to further validate himself and stamp his arrival in that pantheon of prominence, there was one place of eminence where he needed to showcase his talent.

So within a few weeks of being fitted for this third ring, Kobe appeared at the epicenter of the summer hoops universe.

“At that time, the Entertainer’s Basketball Classic at Rucker Park was at its peak,” said Bounce Magazine’s former Editor-in-Chief Sean Couch. “Kobe coming up there was a big deal because he wanted to validate himself on the streets, not only as an NBA great, but somebody like Dr. J or Tiny Archibald who did work in the league but also came out to the park in the summer to perform for people who truly appreciated their artistry. That validation is more important to some people than others. And I remember the crowd being more excited about Kobe being there than for anything he actually did. For a guy of Kobe’s stature, his actual performance was secondary to the magnitude of him simply being there.”

“And people have to understand that the timing of Kobe’s appearance was very significant as well, because that was the modern day crescendo in terms of the talent and energy out in Rucker Park,” Couch continued. “You had Stephon Marbury, Ron Artest, Lamar Odom, Rafer ‘Skip 2 My Lou’ Alston, and others out there representing the playground-to-pro-ball dynamic, but there was also some amazing talent that wasn’t known much outside of New York City like John ‘The Franchise’ Strickland, Tyron ‘Alimoe’ Evans, Kareem ‘The Best Kept Secret’ Reid, Malloy ‘The Future’ Nesmith, and many others. The level of play was so tough and competitive. And on the music side, you had hip hop artists and entrepreneurs from around the way who were now becoming global icons—like Jay Z, Puffy, and Fat Joe—and sponsoring teams. They took the already high star-wattage through the roof with their presence. So the energy was unreal.”

Kobe suited up that night for the Murda Inc. record label team and was matched up against a Source Magazine team that featured the Toronto Raptors’ Jerome ‘Junkyard Dog’ Williams and Martyn ‘Moochie’ Norris of the Houston Rockets. The soundtrack of Kobe’s arrival that summer, and the music being bumped by the DJ in the park that evening, included hits from Busta Rhymes, Cam’ron, and Clipse.

“I’m happy to be up here, man,” Kobe announced to the crowd prior to tip-off. “Let’s get this thing going, man. Let’s do it, man. Let’s ball, man.”

At the game’s outset, it was Moochie that monopolized the crowd’s attention, displaying a flashy playground wizardry that fans of the Houston Rockets didn’t know resided in his arsenal. Kobe excelled in some fancy dribbling of his own, but seemed content to show off his exceptional passing ability instead of the assassin-type scoring mentality that he was known for in the NBA.

“Kobe was out there to show off his skill set, but he wasn’t out there trying to assert himself and singlehandedly take the game over like Kevin Durant did a few summers ago,” said Couch. “He was trying to be cool and part of the flow, which is understandable. He was trying to fit in and let his teammates shine, letting them take advantage of the spotlight that his presence created. And cats were out there seriously going after him. I remember him getting angry a couple of times after some nice moves were put on him. Moochie Norris was getting all of the ‘ooooh’s and aaaaah’s’ early on from the crowd, doing some real slick work off the dribble.”

But Bryant adeptly balanced acquiescing to his teammates with showing how he could truly own the park if he wanted to. In small spurts, he displayed his own crowd-pleasing repertoire of no-look passes, ankle-breaking hesitation and crossover dribbles, and rim-wrecking, acrobatic flights through the lane and into the Harlem sky.

“I think what I did in the first couple of minutes of the game was pretty hard to top,” said Kobe after the game. “I threw it around his head, put it off his butt, got it back and reversed it off the layup.”

Hannibal, the excitable Rucker emcee who seems more suited to working at WWE Wrestlemania, ran through a plethora of nicknames for Kobe during his Harlem debut: ‘K to the Izzo,’ ‘Three Rings,’ ‘The Final Frontier,’ ‘Kobe Wan Kenobi’ and others, before finally settling on ‘The Lord of the Rings.’

When falling rain halted the game in the second half, Bryant had 15 points, seven rebounds, and seven assists. Without context, those numbers seem paltry. Without knowing that his stats would have been more formidable had the game not ended early, or if he’d decided to take the game over, you wouldn’t understand why his performance is revered.

“We all know what Kobe was capable of,” said Couch. “As a player, he’s as good as the best of the best to have ever played in that park. The magnitude of his presence, and the fact that he came to show the culture up there some love spoke volumes on its own. To the old heads, he represented what guys like Pee Wee Kirkland, Joe Hammond, and Earl Manigault could have accomplished under different circumstances. He was a beneficiary of what those guys did in the park: of Dr. J’s and Earl The Pearl’s experimentation, of how the urban, African-American athletic and stylistic aesthetic informed his game, and how he, and Michael Jordan before him, elevated basketball around the globe. So for people who truly understood what they were seeing, the historical context and what his presence meant, that day will always be among the most special days in Rucker Park history.”

“The memory I’ll take away is of the people up there watching, and interacting with them and having a good time with them and talking trash, playing good old basketball, taking me back to the days when I was in high school, when we’d just go out there and play and have a good time,” said Kobe after the game.

“I just wanted to come out here and play,” Kobe continued, with a mischievous look on his face as fans still hovered near him long after the game had been decided. “It’s been a long time since I did that. You know, Phil Jackson doesn’t tolerate that type of basketball, if you know what I mean. The atmosphere was cool. It took me back to playing in Philadelphia, playing in the parks. But there’s no atmosphere like Rucker.”