Today, I opened up the New York Times and said goodbye to my childhood hero. Reading through every last word of every last story, I tried and failed to come to grips that Kobe Bryant had been ripped away from me and millions of fans. Every few minutes, I was overcome with streams of uncontrollable tears; flashbacks to the countless moments of joy, pride and excitement that No. 8 and No. 24 blessed me and every basketball fan across the world. The moments when I would sit by my dad on the living room couch and yell at every made bucket, at every jaw-dropping dunk, at every triple pump fake, and of course, at every unforgettable game-winner. Those very moments are what made me fall in love with the game of basketball at an early age. Those were the moments that made yesterday and today so unbearable to get through.

It just further cemented how much the Black Mamba meant to me and countless others.

It’s not fair, I kept saying to myself. It’s not fair that it had to be this way, at this time. Not Kobe. Not the retired, loving father who was taking his daughter to play a basketball game. Not the entrepreneur and visionary that was just getting the second chapter of his career started. Not my basketball G.O.A.T. that made a younger me believe he was going to hit every buzzer-beater, game-winner and win every championship. Not the player who I used to praise and defend religiously at grade school and the local YMCA every day and night. Not the basketball god who inspired an entire generation of ball players to push forward the very game he poured his blood, sweat and tears into for 20 seasons.

There’s no way around it: if it wasn’t for Kobe, my love for basketball and my career in sports would not have existed. I wouldn’t be doing what I love the most, surrounded by the game I’ll always love.

Yesterday afternoon, I pulled out my phone to a flood of text messages and notifications that had been kept silent in a dark theatre in Park City, Utah. Me and a friend had just finished watching a showing of Bad Hair at the 2020 Sundance Music Festival. The next few minutes felt like a never-ending horror film. Early on in his Q&A, Director Justin Simien took a moment to acknowledge the tragedy that had taken place and asked for a moment of silence for a basketball legend. Absolute shock took over the room. Kobe “Bean” Bryant was really gone. Just like that, one of the greatest sports figures was taken from all of us far too soon.

But it didn’t hit me until I called my dad. That’s when I couldn’t hold back. That’s when I had to break the news to the very person who introduced me to basketball and Kobe, that one of our most beloved sports players was gone forever. All I could say was that I loved him and my mom and that I was forever grateful to Kobe for giving us the book of unforgettable memories that we’ll both carry for the rest of our lives; the bank of stories we will will always be able to access; the legendary tales I promise to pass down on to my future kids and whoever asks to hear about.

Today, all I ask of whoever is reading this, is to remember your heroes for all the joy, happiness and inspiration they poured into your lives. Remember the good times. Remember them for the lifelong gifts they gave to you without asking for anything in return. I didn’t know Kobe personally and the closest I ever got to meeting him was at the 2016 Elite 8 game when he showed up to watch Buddy Hield play against Oregon. But it’s ok. It’s ok because he gave me the greatest gift of all, something that I’ll carry with me for the rest of my days. He gave me an entry point into the world of sports and basketball. He planted a seed of love for the game of basketball into a first generation Korean American who ended up picking up a basketball — wearing a No. 8 Lakers jersey and space boot Adidas shoe in his first organized practice in the 3rd grade — because of Kobe “Bean” Bryant. Because of Kobe, I played endless hours of NBA 2K (even recording hours of gameplay on old VHS tapes). Because of Kobe, I went to the YMCA every day after school with my dad to improve in and enjoy the game we both loved. Because of Kobe, I’m still working my dream job after years of following nothing but a never-ending love for basketball.

Thank you, Kobe for touching me and millions of other fans in a way we’ll never be able to repay you back for. Thank you, Kobe for opening up the gate for a kid like me to enter a world of community, passion and dedication that is sports. It’s this very community that’s granted me a lifelong set of memories that I’ll always look back to whenever I get down. You were the reason I got to hug my parents after a tour at the Inside the NBA studio in Atlanta, Georgia, only made possible by a job you helped inspire me to get. You were the reason I’m continuing my dream career in San Francisco, California as a 25-year-old professional. You are the reason I’ll continue to play, share and love the game of basketball for as long as I’m still breathing.

I’ll never forget watching you hit back-to-back buzzer-beaters at the Rose Garden on April 15, 2004. I’ll never forget watching you and Shaq win three championships in a row. I’ll never forget watching you revive the Lakers-Celtics rivalry and winning back-to-back championships in 2009 and 2010 (thank you for passing the ball to Metta World Peace). I’ll never forget watching you drop 81 points on the Raptors. I’ll always remember how you left the game: hitting two free-throws after the Achilles tear and dropping 60 points in your final game.

Rest in peace, Kobe. The echoes of millions of fans yelling “Kobe” across the world will forever ring in my heart.