Iconic Kobe Bryant left a legacy for LeBron James to continue

The Kobe Bryant tragedy now expands beyond the immediate moment of shock and grief to the secondary stage wherein people take a step back and ponder its meaning in a broader light.

Bryant wasn’t perfect.

If you read the reports about the sexual-assault allegation he was hit with almost 17 years ago, it’s ugly and quite sad. The charges were eventually dropped when the bruised young woman decided not to testify. The civil case was settled out of court for what the Los Angeles Times, quoting legal experts, estimated was more than $2.5 million.

But Kobe came back from that. He did his penance. He did his work.

There are second acts in life, even third acts, and more. Bryant focused on his basketball gifts and his family — he and wife Vanessa had four girls — and he slowly evolved back into an icon.

The grief over Bryant’s sudden death in a helicopter crash at 41 — along with eight others, including his 13-year-old daughter, Gianna — is heightened by knowing what he was becoming, what he was flowering into, what he never will be.

In the works was his status as elder statesman for not just his sport but for athletes’ rights, their freedom, for creative ventures (he won a 2018 Oscar for his animated short film), for who knows what.

When I heard about the crash, I flashed instantly to the night John Lennon was killed in New York at 40, with Howard Cosell somberly breaking the news on “Monday Night Football.’’

Lennon was world-famous, a genius, had been through some dark times, was lifting himself back up as a man, a father, a creator. His time line was 1940-1980, Kobe’s 1978-2020. They overlapped on this planet for only 16 months.

I think we can say the world would be a better place if each had lived to old age.

Which leads us to LeBron James.

James had passed Bryant for third place on the NBA all-time scoring list a day before the crash, which is why we were hearing so much about Kobe just before the tragedy. Ahead of James now are only Karl Malone and leader Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.

“It’s just too much,’’ James told reporters. ‘‘It’s too much. The story is too much. It doesn’t make sense.’’

Crazily, he was saying that about his Kobe-surpassing night, not the crash. Bryant was still alive at that moment; he would be for the rest of the night. Bryant had even tweeted this after the game: ‘‘Continuing to move the game forward @KingJames. Much respect my brother.’’

Once James learned of the crash, he broke down. Then he wrote on Instagram: “I promise you I’ll continue your legacy man! . . . it’s my responsibility to put this s--- on my back and keep it going!!’’

James recently passed No. 5 Michael Jordan in scoring, and Jordan is beyond legendary. But is he a societal leader? No.

Abdul-Jabbar is an intellect, a gifted essay writer, but he’s aloof and distant. Then there’s Malone.

A tale here. It was Nov. 4, 2003, and Malone had moved from the Jazz to the Lakers in what would be his last year in the league. The Lakers came to play the Bucks in Milwaukee, and I drove up to gauge the mood of the team, with the still-pending Bryant assault situation hovering in the air.

In the tiny locker room before the game, Bryant stayed off to one side. No one approached him to talk about his case. I went up to Malone, introduced myself and asked him how things were on the team. He seemed angry. What was I talking about? he demanded. I hinted at the point. He acted like he didn’t know. I told him as delicately as I could: “The situation with Kobe, kind of, with the team.’’ He was really mad now.

I backed away, apologizing. I felt a hand on my shoulder, a huge, calming hand. I turned around. It was Shaquille O’Neal, eating an apple.

“It’s OK,’’ Shaq said quietly. “It’s OK.’’

That was the nicest thing anybody has ever done for me in a locker room.

I tell this story about Malone (and kindly Shaq, too) to let you know leadership is not for all. LeBron will be the No. 1 scorer someday, barring injury. Then he must be the off-court leader, too. He can do it. He has to.

It’s his mantle. Kobe gave it to him.