Kobe approached his teammate Jodie in the locker room. They were the only two present. “You ready, man?”
Jodie nodded solemnly, retrieving the sledgehammer from his locker. “I guess. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.”
Patting Jodie chummily on the shoulder, Kobe said, “It’s gotta happen, man. I’m not going to be around forever, and at some point, the Lakers need to establish you as the shooting guard of the future. Every minute I play is a hindrance to your development as a player.”
Jodie laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I know, I know. ‘Ingrain myself into the Los Angeles psyche’ as you put it. Where do you wanna, you know, do the deed?”
“Here is fine,” Kobe said, lying down on the floor at Jodie’s feet. “Remember, do the left knee. The coaching staff already knows that I’ve been having problems with that one.”
Jodie raised the sledgehammer above his head, but hesitated. “What if I miss?”
Waving his hand in dismissal, Kobe answered, “No problem. We’ll just have to tweak the story a little bit. Just try not to hit my Kobe beans.”
“Okay,” Jodie said, breathing deeply. “Here we go.” Before he had a chance to talk himself out of it, he brought the hammer swiftly down on Kobe’s knee.
“NNNnnhhhhhh” Kobe groaned through gritted teeth. “Ouch. You’d better get the trainers, I can’t feel my toes.”
“What should I tell them?” Jodie asked, realizing that they had not planned an explanation for how Kobe blew apart his knee while sitting in the locker room.
“I slipped on some soap in the shower and hit the deck,” Kobe answered, still grimacing. “This is the end of an era, you know that, man?” Now tears flowed down Kobe’s face, and Jodie was sure they weren’t due to the pain.
Jodie dropped the sledgehammer on the floor and grabbed his teammate’s hand. “I know, man. Thank you.”