On Friday night, the Los Angeles Lakers offered their tribute to Kobe Bryant, the man whose career first took shape on their courts: Every seat in the Staples Center had his jersey on it. There were musical performances from Usher and Boyz II Men, video montages, a moment of silence, and an emotional speech from his close friend and current Lakers star LeBron James. “This is a celebration of the blood, the sweat, the tears, the broken down body, the gettin’ up, everything, the countless hours,” he said. “The determination to be as great as he could be.” It was an opportunity for the public to collectively grieve, to tell a definitive story. Avoid the mess. But as we’ve seen in the last week of public wrestling with Bryant’s life and legacy, you can’t actually do that. The cracks always show.Bryant’s death was one of those moments that seemed to stop the world in disbelief. Tributes poured in attesting to how much he meant to basketball, to Los Angeles, to black Gen Xers and millennials who came of age with him and watching him. People shared video clips of his cameos on Sister, Sister, rode waves of nostalgia by chucking wadded-up balls of paper at the trash, yelling “KOBE!”