Dear Basketball

Kobe Bryant is the speaker of the poem. Kobe is the “I,” and he signs his letter, “Love you always, Kobe” (Lines 51-52), so it is clear that the speaker is Kobe, the man, instead of the formal name Bryant used for the author.

The reason Kobe writes his letter to basketball is to announce his retirement. When Kobe composed his poem, he was playing his 20th season in the NBA, and he lets basketball know that he won’t hang around for a 21st season. Since Kobe frames his poem as a letter, the poem is a part of the epistolary genre—a literary work in the form of a letter or letters. Due to Kobe’s deep love for basketball, the poem is also a love poem. Kobe treats basketball like a person and gives it a personal pronoun—a “you.” When a poet gives human characteristics to something nonhuman, they’re using a literary device known as personification. Here, personification allows Kobe to address basketball as if it’s a person who can hear and reciprocate his words and feelings.

Kobe’s tone is intimate and sentimental. He gives the reader an up-close peek into his connection to basketball. The love began right away, and the snappy tone of “[f]rom the moment” (Line 2) expresses the love-at-first-sight atmosphere. Kobe uses imagery (vivid language) to create a picture of himself in his dad’s tube socks, pretending to play in a Los Angeles Lakers game where he must make the game-winning shot.

The image is nostalgic—Kobe is thinking about his childhood—but it’s not wishy-washy. Kobe’s tone is direct and blunt, “I knew one thing was real: // I fell in love with you” (Lines 7-8). To emphasize the love, Kobe gives the declaration its separate stanza, and love and obsession is a key theme for the poem. Kobe’s love isn’t superficial but intense. He tells basketball that his love is “so deep I gave you my all — / From my mind & body / To my spirit & soul” (Lines 9-11). For these lines, the tone is hyperbolic (intentionally dramatic). Kobe uses sweeping diction (word choice) to convey his all-consuming emotions.

In case basketball doubts that Kobe has been in love with it since he was a “six-year-old boy” (Line 12), Kobe repeats a form of the word “deep” from Line 9, telling basketball he was “[d]eeply in love with” it (Line 13). Kobe’s love for basketball is endless, and he uses dramatic irony (an unexpected twist that subverts the typical expectations of the reader) to highlight its endlessness. He flips the English idiom (common expression) “light at the end of the tunnel” by instead saying, “I never saw the end of the tunnel. / I only saw myself / running out of one” (Lines 14-16). The image also links to the literary device, allusion, with “tunnel” (Line 14) referencing the tunnel that typically connects the NBA locker rooms to the basketball court.

Repetition returns as Kobe repeats “ran” in Lines 17 and 18. Basketball is demanding, and so is the poem’s tone. The repetition highlights the exhaustive, laborious love affair. Kobe tells basketball, “I ran up and down every court / After every loose ball for you” (Lines 18-19). Kobe continues the direct tone. He says, “You asked for my hustle / I gave you my heart” (Lines 20-21). The two lines produce a juxtaposition, with Kobe comparing hustle and heart, giving basketball the latter “[b]ecause it came with so much more” (Line 22). Kobe doesn’t specify what the “much more” (Line 22) entails, but the intangibility makes it a precious symbol.

The unvarnished tone continues when Kobe tells basketball, “I played through the sweat and hurt” (Line 23). He endures pain and hard labor for basketball. The tone takes on a religious quality when Kobe tells basketball, “YOU called me. / I did everything for YOU” (Lines 25-26). It’s as if Kobe is alluding to predestination—the Christian belief that God knows everything that will happen, including who will go to heaven and who won’t. Basketball is Kobe’s god—it controls his world and represents his destiny. The all-capital “YOU” (Lines 25, 26) reinforces the all-powerful, godlike aura of basketball.

Kobe brings back the image of the “six-year-old boy” (Line 30) and juxtaposes it with his present condition. Though Kobe will “always love” (Line 31) basketball for making his dreams come true, he can’t love basketball “obsessively for much longer” (Line 32). The hyperbolic tone reinforces the love’s intensity, and Kobe can’t handle so much drama anymore. He bluntly tells basketball, “This season is all I have left to give” (Line 33). His heart and mind can go on, but his body “knows it’s time to say goodbye” (Line 36). Kobe’s tone becomes somewhat sad—he’s separating himself for an unrivaled love.

Kobe pivots to a positive tone. He tells basketball, “And that’s OK. / I’m ready to let you go” (Lines 37-38). The breakup isn’t acrimonious, and they’re not ending things right away. Kobe writes his letter in November, and the season won’t end until April. Kobe tells basketball, “We can both savor every moment we have left together” (Line 40). Whether “good” or “bad” (Line 41), they’ll be together for a little bit longer, and they should appreciate the time before it vanishes.

Kobe brings back the theme of fate and destiny by repeating the image of him as a kid pretending to be in the position of taking a game-winning shot. Kobe reminds basketball that he knows he had to be a star. The diction, the countdown of “5 … 4 … 3 … 2 … 1“ (Line 50), adds to the dramatic tone, creating the atmosphere of the game clock winding down. The irony, the twist, is that the game isn’t coming to an end: Instead, Kobe’s professional career is ending.

Kobe ends his letter like a prototypical love letter, “Love you always, / Kobe” (Lines 51-52). Though Kobe is departing from playing basketball in the NBA, he will love basketball forever. The poem ends with a dramatic, sentimental tone—one final declaration of love.