Even before I became the sport fanatic that I am today, I was passionate about a few professional athletes.

One of those athletes was Kobe Bryant.

I’ll never forget the times in elementary school, yelling “KOBE!” whenever my friend’s and I played basketball together. Even though I didn’t understand the enormity of his talent at the time, I always enjoyed watching him dominate his opponents, so much so that I would follow him until he retired.

Kobe became a much more centralized part of my life when I became a die-hard sports fan. I used to struggle with depression and self-esteem issues in middle school. Watching sports literally helped keep me sane. More specifically, watching Kobe was a stress outlet. I used to forget about all my problems when I watched him play. When he won, part of me felt like I won.

Part of what made me so happy and cheery when I watched him was his confidence and charisma. No matter what happened in a game, he always seemed unfazed and smiled no matter what. He could get over any loss, but he wouldn’t take mess from anyone either.

I not only saw what he did on the court but off the court as well. He tried to help uplift kids and people in Los Angeles, across the U.S. and all around the world. From helping fight youth homelessness in LA to encouraging young basketball stars to pursue their dreams, Kobe Bryant did everything in his power to try to make the world around him a better place.

Part of why I wanted to become a sportscaster wasn’t just to present highlights or play-by-play, but to highlight how and why sports can bring us together. Kobe Bryant was the first of many who showed me how sports have the power to change the world. It would be an understatement to say that Kobe helped inspire me to follow my current career path.

I’ll be bluntly honest with you all: I rarely grieve when celebrities and athletes pass away. It’s not that I don’t have empathy for them, but rather that few of them used their fame or status to help people other than themselves.

But Kobe’s death hit me differently.

As soon as I clocked into work last week, one of my coworkers told me about the helicopter crash. I laughed and told him to come up with a better joke than that. He was serious and showed me the news on his phone. I felt numb and honestly don’t know how I got through the rest of my shift.

When I went home, I just started sobbing out of nowhere. I hadn’t felt this sad for an athlete since Muhammad Ali died. Not only was I sobbing out of sadness for him, his daughter Gianna and his other friends on the plane, but over many other things, too.

I cried knowing part of my childhood was gone forever. I cried knowing that the guy who helped me get out of depressed moods would no longer be able to help pull other people out of the blues. I cried knowing his kids and wife will wake up tomorrow without their daughter, sister and daddy by their side. I cried knowing that I have a brother who is the same age as Gianna and that he could be gone in a heartbeat.

No family deserves that—I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy.

The sports world will be a little gloomy for the time being and that’s OK.

There’s a reason why we are sad about Kobe Bryant’s death. We know that he meant a lot to millions of people all over the globe, and these people know that he carried a persona that very few people have carried in our lifetime.

Kobe Bean Bryant, thank you for being a guiding light, inspiration and hero during my lifetime. Thank you for teaching me to be unapologetically confident and proud of myself in everything that I do, even on my worst days. Thank you for being a shining light.

I pray that your legacy is solidified for decades and centuries to come so that others can follow your footsteps of greatness.

Rest in power Mamba.