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Music in his Game 
by Nelson George
Bounce. Step. Set. Shoot.

 

Basketball is a game of rhythm. It has a beat that can be heard standing outside any gym in the world. The squeak of skidding sneakers. The stomp of rebounding feet. The cadence of a crafty dribbler. All these sounds, and more, provide the soundtrack for this most visual of games.

On the large bandstand that is the NBA, Kobe Bryant is that rare player who has never played a supporting role. From the time he skipped from high school to Hollywood, Kobe has been a soloist and music has flowed from his game. There are soaring high notes, as in his Sunday afternoon demolition of the Orlando Magic on NBC back in March. There is the jazzman's improvisational gift he displays every time he goes airborne before the Forum's star-studded crowds. And, as might be expected because of his youth, there's an aggression to his play that's a parallel to hip-hop, which is to the '90s what Motown was to the '60s.

Whatever the game sounds like in the 21st century, Kobe will be crucial to shaping the sound.

Bounce. Step. Set. Shoot.

Kobe's first memories of music came courtesy of his father, Joe "Jelly Bean" Bryant, a forward for the Philadelphia 76ers back when the franchise was a league power.

"My father always had the car radio on," Kobe recalled from Dallas as the muted Academy Awards broadcast progressed silently in the background. "He really liked those cool vocal groups like the Temptations and the O'Jays."

This was the late '70s, when the City of Brotherly Love was energized by the leaping legend, Julius "Dr. J" Erving, and the music of Kenny Gamble and Leon Huff's propulsive Philly Sound. The Spectrum was the place to be and young Kobe got an up-close view.

On the large bandstand that is the NBA, Kobe Bryant is that rare player who has never played a supporting role. From the time he skipped from high school to Hollywood, Kobe has been a soloist and music has flowed from his game.

But when his father signed with an Italian team while Kobe was still in elementary school, Kobe had to master a different kind of transition game.

"Living in Italy most of the year, I was somewhat cut off from music in the States," he said. "There were some performers, like Phil Collins, who were big in both places. Being in Italy, I got to appreciate some of their stars, too. There was this big pop/rock star named Eros Ramazzotti, who was large there when I was growing up.

"Sometimes I'd feel a little out of place when I got back to the States, since knowing music is a big part of being a teenager and connecting with other kids. I got re-connected to American music when I'd come home for summers. My cousins would let me know what was going on. There was very little hip-hop in Italy then, so I'd find myself getting educated on what rappers like Eric B. & Rakim were doing."

Bounce. Step. Set. Shoot.

All the greats have a tremendous sense of rhythm. The med his blocks so they'd lead to fast breaks for his Celtic teammates. The Thelonious Monk-like syncopation of Earl Monroe's dribble. Hakeem Olajuwon's "dream shake" is an exquisite exercise in polyrhythms any drummer would envy. Right now, Kobe hasn't settled into one trademark move. His game is more variations on a flamboyant theme - pull-up jumpers from the right side of the court, devastating curls on the lip of the baseline, post-up melodies in the key of Jordan, and tomahawk attacks on the hoop that bring even testy road crowds to their feet.

Kobe, like most of the NBA's new generation, was raised with hip-hop central to his consciousness. This is a streetwise, often anti-authoritarian culture that embraces not just music, but clothes, language and body language. There is a cockiness and a strut to a true hip-hop head that, when confronted with a disciplined athletic atmosphere, can lead to friction. But the music can also serve to reflect a warrior's heart.

Kobe, a clean-cut kid who has managed to avoid any generational conflict, observed, "This generation is bringing a different type of flow to the NBA. A lot of people around the league are not used to it, particularly off the court. The style of dress is different. The way they relate to each other is different. Some people react badly to this and try to keep it at arm's distance. But you just need to understand that these are just a bunch of young guys who love to have fun."

Bounce. Step. Set. Shoot.

Kobe himself is a hip-hop icon. The combination of his youth, his Afro and his game have made him one of the most identifiable players in the NBA, one who's regularly referenced in rap records, the ultimate barometer of respect for sub-30 celebrities. It doesn't hurt, either, that teen idol Brandy was his prom night date.

Like his teammate, Shaquille O'Neal, Kobe has done more than just listen to hip-hop. R&B crooner (and celebrity basketball game regular) Brian McKnight invited the Laker to rhyme on a re-mix of his single, "Hold Me." This collaboration dates back to when Kobe was in high school and working at a summer clinic where he gave hoops junkie McKnight some tips. The singer returned the favor by allowing the guard to display his hip-hop skills.

The track, recorded and released during the NBA hiatus, generated lots of play on black radio stations and the accompanying video, which featured Kobe shooting with McKnight and then rapping on camera, was played on the Box, Black Entertainment Television and The Family Channel. Despite the strong initial reaction to his musical talent, Kobe has no plans to inaugurate a recording career - at least not for the moment.

"Right now," he said earnestly, "I'm too busy playing basketball to begin a serious recording career. Ball is my focus now. Even before games, I don't listen to music to get pumped. Eddie [Jones], when he was here, used to have earphones on in the locker room. Derek Harper does too. Shaq has a whole workout regimen based around a special mix tape before each game.

"My focus is just on who I'm playing against and what my role out on the floor is that night. I don't want my attention split between music and ball right now." Then he pauses and a smile spreads across his face, "But let me tell you, I do love rhyming."

There's already music in Kobe's game. One day, he may be providing his own sound, putting game in his music.

Nelson George is the author of 16 books about music, basketball and culture, the latest is Hip-Hop America published by Viking Press in 1998.

This article also appears in the May 1999 issue of Hoop.