Our basketball team was in Orangeburg, S.C. on the Sunday afternoon when the news broke. I'm in the hotel hallway when the team manager walks by. Only eye contact is needed because the language of basketball kicked into full effect.

"Kobe … man…" the young gentleman says.

It repeats itself as I take the elevator down to the lobby. Coach Ryan Ridder has just gotten off the phone. Again, only eye contact.

"Crazy," is all Ridder said and it was more than enough.

Far be it for me to think I can add anything more relevant to a conversation about one of the greatest basketball players of all time and a dominant presence in this generation. Folks like the LA Times' Bill Plaschke, my friend Bill Oram at The Athletic and the ESPN NBA regulars can provide much better insight into Kobe Bryant thanks to their years of access and perspective. I'm just another basketball guy whose basketball world was wrecked that Sunday afternoon.

But … darn right it hurts.

It hurt when Roberto Clemente's plane went down.
It hurt when Dale Earnhardt hit the wall.
It hurt when Hank Gathers collapsed.
It hurt when Payne Stewart's plane went silent.

It hurts every time I have to write a tribute/obit piece for BCU. OUR heroes. OUR teammates.

Juan Varon.
"Radio Mike" Johnson.
Alfred Adams.
Coach Mas.
Summer Brown.

It hurt when I found out my first journalism teacher, Steve Elliott at Warner Christian Academy, coded in the middle of the night after everyone thought his heart surgery went well.

And my God, did it hurt when they lowered Dad's casket in the ground.

If it didn't hurt, something is therapy-level wrong, or that life had absolutely no impact on yours.

We're getting hammered by life right now.

It's the passage of time. The loss of invincibility. Fondest moments. Great people.

But …it'll get better. It always does. At least for a while.

Thing is, we have to get better. Take a step back. Regroup. Maybe even re-prioritize or reorganize, if needed.

Kobe? Hmmph.

If the Mamba took a step back, he'd drain the three and restart his evisceration of you. Nothing else needs to be said.