The Immortal Appeal of Kobe Bryant

Just one month into Kobe Bryant's 19th campaign, his season has already been more eventful than some men's careers. Redirecting some of the focus from his Los Angeles Lakers' unsurprisingly rough start, the 36-year-old has already set the all-time record for missed field-goal attempts—all while he closes in on Michael Jordan to become the league's third-most prolific scorer in history.

Some have even suggested the seemingly unthinkable possibility of a trade (not that there's anything to those suggestions).

"It's not going to happen," Bryant told USA Today's Sam Amick earlier this month. "You go through the good times, you've got to go through the bad times.

"It's not going to happen. I have a no-trade clause. [Lakers governor] Jeanie [Buss] and [Lakers executive vice president of basketball operations] Jimmie [Buss] aren't sending me anywhere."

There are plenty of sentimental reasons for that (to be sure). But there are also some very practical ones.

"I don't see them trading Kobe, not at all," one rival NBA team president told New York scribe Mitch Lawrence in a piece for Forbes earlier this month. "The Lakers almost have to keep him, as much for business reasons as anything else, and I believe that's what they're going to do."

The original trade scenario imagined Bryant returning to the side of former coach Phil Jackson, who is now president of basketball operations for the New York Knicks. Regardless of such a move's merits on paper, it's the economics that matter here.

"Kobe brings eyes to the TV," Lawrence's source added. "No, he's not the same player he once was, but people are always going to watch Kobe Bryant."

Conversely, people don't watch the Lakers without Bryant. Television viewership plummeted with him sidelined last season, the first in which Lakers fans—and the league at large—experienced prolonged life without Kobe since he joined the league in 1996.

His permanent departure would signal a rebuild that would undoubtedly turn even more fans away.

As Lawrence put it:

[Jeanie Buss] has no interest in turning Staples Center into a waste-land, with 12,000 people coming out to watch Amar’e Stoudemire play matador defense, while her significant other, Phil Jackson, gets to see how Bryant blends his talents with his surrogate little brother, [Carmelo] Anthony, who thought long and hard last summer about signing in L.A. before re-upping for $124 million with the Knicks.

A lot has changed since Bryant reportedly requested a trade back in 2007. He now finds himself within a few short years of declaring himself a lifelong Laker. And Los Angeles couldn't have asked for a more lucrative long-term asset. 

Dealing Bryant doesn't make business sense. 

It wouldn't make for especially good optics either.

Second only to the Knicks in value, the Lakers have an interest in maintaining their star pedigree—and Bryant's stardom still shines as brightly as it did at the height of his championship exploits. Now chasing historic achievements, showing off unusual longevity and serving as an ambassadorial face for the game itself, Kobe has relevance that endures regardless of his team's futility.

Indeed, Bryant's suffering is every bit as intriguing as his success. That's how it is for legends. 

They make for compelling stories through thick and thin alike—perhaps more so through the thin.

That's how Kobe's legions of fans feel, anyway. Exhibit A is Detroit Pistons point guard (and Compton native) Brandon Jennings.

"(Growing up in Los Angeles at the time) you're going to become a Kobe fan," Jennings told reporters this month. "He'll for sure have a statue. Like Magic Johnson was saying, he's one of the greatest Lakers ever. ... They might give Kobe one with his kids and everyone on it."

Jennings may be a biased observer, but his attachment to No. 24 isn't peculiar to Angelenos. The Atlanta Journal Constitution's Chris Vivlamore noticed as much when the Atlanta Hawks recently hosted Los Angeles.

"Bryant usually draws a crowd on the road, but this one was chanting 'M-V-P, M-V-P' every time he stepped to the free-throw line," Vivlamore wrote. "When Bryant hit the opening basket of the game, Philips Arena erupted. As he, and his teammates, made big shots down the stretch, there was a considerable amount of cheering for the visitors."

The Lakers certainly don't feel like America's team at the moment, so one should interpret the ATL's enthusiasm accordingly.  

Bryant's appeal is universal and undying, no matter his team's record—and not just because he's still averaging nearly 27 points per contest after all these years.

He's the archetypal competitor, his game's version of a defensive lineman or gladiator. Though his fans won't relish L.A.'s current predicament, there's arguably never been a greater canvas for Bryant-the-warrior—now grappling with a revolving door of coaches, a crippling talent deficit and of course time itself.

Gone are the Lakers' chances of contending for a title in the near future. This is the epilogue in which Bryant contends with challenges of a different sort—and cements his place in history while he's at it.

Passing MJ on the scoring list serves as a timely reminder that Bryant has been such a remarkable constant since entering the league. Now head coach of the Denver Nuggets, former Lakers assistant coach (and player) Brian Shaw suggested the accomplishment was especially sweet, given the names involved.

Shaw recently told reporters:

I think that [Bryant will] probably just say that it's just another milestone, but it's obvious that Jordan was somebody that Kobe idolized and looked up to. 

I think that would be one of the things that's right up there, when you can kind of get at the same level or surpass somebody of that magnitude and somebody that you patterned your game after. Whether he says it or not, I personally feel that it would be one of his greatest accomplishments.

It would be a great accomplishment—and one of the many gaudy numbers that will define a prodigious career.

There's little doubt we'll remember the final tally of points, the five championships, the 16-and-counting All-Star appearances and those 2008 MVP honors. And we'll also remember Bryant's defiance in times like these.

That hope won't save the Lakers' season, but it testifies to a legacy that goes far deeper than any 82 games could. It is a legacy that will keep all eyes on Kobe Bryant—even when the Lakers are most certainly a 3-11 team.