It's one of those things where you'll never forget where you were and what you were doing. The numbing news that leaves one in a dream state, unable to comprehend the reality of a situation.

That was exactly the feeling I had when I received a phone call from my brother earlier today - 2:41pm to be exact - telling me that TMZ was reporting that Kobe Bryant was among those killed in a helicopter crash in Calabasas, California earlier today. At that point, all I could do was turn on the news, and wait for clarification. Turn on CNN, log onto twitter and keep refreshing, hoping that it wasn't true. A hoax. Anything but what had been reported.

As I scrolled and searched, finding that the New York Post had broke the news also, the devastation started to sink in. Bryant, 41, was among those killed in the crash, along with, as we learned later, his 13 year old daughter Gianna and 7 others.

I texted and called my friend, who grew up idolizing Kobe. Every move he studied, every example he followed. That same friend was the one I called in the 3rd quarter of Bryant's 81 point performance against the Raptors on 01/22/06, telling him "bro turn on the game right now Kobe has 60 and it's the third quarter". Kobe was our Michael Jordan. For a millennial generation that was just old enough to remember the NBA one year removed from MJ - since 1999 - Kobe was our example. The standard. The measure.

Beyond the accolades, of which every hoop fanatic is aware, is the shining example that Kobe gave. Work hard on your craft. Never accept defeat. Fear no opponent. Always give your best. Bryant was not just an example of those, but, as said above, he was the MJ of our era. He welcomed that pressure of being the next after Jordan, and ran with the label. Relentlessness, an iron will, and all the skill in the world to go with it.

There's a reason a Kyrie Irving couldn't play today versus the New York Knicks because of the sheer shock and sadness of losing a mentor, a reason Tyson Chandler was crying on the bench during the Houston Rockets game against the Denver Nuggets, a reason Trae Young, after hitting a half court shot to end the first half tonight in their game against the Washington Wizards, put his hands together, looked above, and said "Rest In Peace, Kobe". It's because for the current group in the NBA, Bryant was their role model. For guys like Chandler, who grew up in California, he was an inspiration. Bryant was Philly born, but in his adult life, he represented Los Angeles. For 20 seasons, he was the Lakers. For Irving and Young, he was a mentor, as he was for so many others.

An entire generation.

Personally, I had the privilege of watching Kobe play twice live in person, in 2012 against the Raptors, and in his final game in Boston in December of 2015. In that Raptor game, I remember him giving James Johnson buckets and the two of them exchanging pleasantries after the game. In that final game in Boston, the most that sticks out is the admiration and love he received that night from the Celtic (Celtic!) crowd. Fans of the team whose heart Kobe broke in the 2010 Finals, fans of the team that is one half of the league's greatest rivalry, opposing, yes, the Lakers, were cheering him.

As they should have.

The memories I hold and remember are that of an assassin, a guy who on both ends of the court took care of business. As a young superstar, I watched him dominate. 48 and 16 rebounds against the Sacramento Kings in Game 4 of the 2001 Western Conference Semi-Finals. The time he buzzer-beat the Blazers in overtime on March 16, 2004. The time he scored 40+ in nine consecutive games from February 6 - February 23, 2003. The time that, post-Shaq, he hit game-tying and game-winning shots against the Suns in Game 4 of their first round series in 2006. The time he scored 62 points in three quarters against the Mavericks. The time he had that 50 point game streak in 2007 - 65, 50, 60, 50. The time he crushed me when his Lakers beat a Celtic team I was rooting for (just as my friend was a Kobe guy, I was a KG and Ray Allen guy) in the 2010 Finals, to where I couldn't sleep the night of that Game 7 loss. The time he hit that ridiculous running bank shot three over Dwyane Wade in a game in 2009. The time he scored 60 in his final game in 2016, a game I have on DVD.

To me, as I told another friend a few weeks ago, the 2005-2010 version of Kobe Bryant was the best player I ever saw. The guy was cold-blooded, he was a sniper, an assassin. The "Black Mamba" nickname could not have better suited anyone else.

But all that stuff, all the basketball stuff, is minor compared to the personal tug that news such as today's has on you. Bryant was a father of four, he was a husband, a son, a brother, a friend to so many, and more. The loss of his daughter in this just adds to the tragedy. He had added Academy Award winner to his resume of accomplishments, and was set to do so much more, influence so many others, and build another legacy.

But as that won't happen, we are just left with the memories. The lasting images, the moments, highlights, the virtuoso performances, the clutch shots. All we can do is remember those, hold them dear, and be thankful that we all got to witness the greatness of one Kobe Bean Bryant.

On a personal note, thank you Kobe for the example you set for young basketball players, showing us that fear is an illusion, showing us how to work, and giving us the pleasure of watching one of the best to ever step on an NBA court.

Your legacy will live. And your memory will never cease.

Rest In Peace, Legend.