“I’m just thankful for this chance to not give up on my dream just yet.”
– John Kobbeman
The phrase above was one I was fortunate to get to hear nearly nightly for five months, and while I aw-shucksed my way around it more often than I’d like to admit, it was always something that touched my heart very deeply. John was an unexpected roommate of mine for nearly a half a year of my life.
I met him as an avid follower of the site I was lucky to write for prior to this one, Denver Stiffs. On that site, with its ever-active and vocal engagement threads, John Kobbeman was one of the most-active on-site commenters, and one who always brought some real consideration to what he had to say. We were both Nuggets fans living in L.A., which feels akin to being one of two llamas on the moon. He was a talented and passionate video editor whose opinions were as bold as the handlebar mustache he was then sporting. John preferred to be called Kobbe by his friends, which he verbalized like Kobe Bryant pronounced his first name. He was likeable, enigmatic, courageous, and frequently irascible. He knew the handful he could be, and had enough going for him in so many other regards, he was worth every bit of vinegar he occasionally brought to the party.
Kobbe was occasionally burdened by health issues, which were compounded by infrequent insurance coverage. He worked for many editing companies and studios in the L.A. area, but had never caught on with one at length to stay, often due to a series of strikes that bedeviled the industry over the decade-plus he was there. During one of many work outages he suffered during that timeframe, he lived with my ex and I in Mid City L.A., and we got to know one another a good deal better. I think it is safe to say I loved him, and we surely loved to talk about the Denver Nuggets. He was also a massive fan of DNVR when it came into being. I was just a massive fan of him.
Middle of last week, Kobbe was going through a(nother) surgery to continue to improve his quality of life, and a random blood clot formed and took him from us sooner than seemed right or possible. Randomness of the universe and statistical chance combined, and this time was just his turn. A sad but unavoidable thing once it comes.
John consistently telling me about his thankfulness to be staying with us as long as he did struck me, and it often reminded me to look for the things in this world I am thankful for, which can be such a balm. Such a life-changing reminder. I’ll miss him, but I also hope that the small change he made in me means a small part of him is still here with us. In me, in his sisters, in his many friends and family members, in the hundreds of lives he touched, even if by just making a large group of Nuggets fans reading a comment board laugh and think. Knowing a little of his head and his heart, I’m confident he touched so many other lives I’ll never know about.
As we sail into a weekend holiday here in the US where we are meant to reflect on the things we are thankful for, I’m reminded of my friend gone too quickly who took a service I was trying to pay to him, and set an example for me instead. In the spirit of such things…
I’m thankful for this remarkable gig and platform with DNVR, and the people I’ve met, both co-workers and readers alike who have been so immensely kind to me. It’s a gift I do not take lightly, for however long I am graced to keep it.
I’m thankful to always call Colorado home, even when I’m not living there. What a remarkable place to always get to be from.
I’m thankful for the thriving sports community, teams, and fanbases from the area I’m forever a homer for. The depth and breadth of options to scratch that itch with from around Colorado feels unparalleled to someone as biased as me, and I believe it fuels a huge part of what makes the area so great. People there are not just in a pretty place, they are passionate and joyous.
I’m thankful for a hockey team that is tantalizingly close to having ONE regular-time loss in all the games they have played in September, October, and November combined. That team has routinely been one of the best sports attractions in Colorado since they brought the state its first major championship in their first year in town.
I’m thankful for a basketball team that employs one of the best basketball players to ever touch a floor, and moreover, one who raises his teammates abilities to incredible heights. Thankful for a team that is talented and cohesive and all setting aside their personal glory for the betterment of the whole, following the example of their best player. Seeing a professional athlete confound so many people, experts and fans alike, by being better at the game due to his exceptional intellect, heart, and priority-set has been nothing short of inspiring. It will be decades before we fully see how deeply he has impacted the game as a whole.
I’m thankful for a football team that has reignited my love for their franchise. I don’t think I’d ever jumped fully off that train, but I was damned sure in the sleeper car for a while.
I’m thankful for a baseball team. While the organization has a lot to reconcile, and while I’ve been vocal in my desires to see changes made, I’m grateful to have the opportunity to watch Major League Baseball being played in Colorado, and hope the team finds great success someday. The only thing that would make me sadder than the way they have played of late would be to not have a team at all. So grateful to see that meant-to-be-beautiful game played in one of the real cathedrals of the sport.
I’m thankful for a compelling soccer team, and for a team that made lacrosse interesting enough to go check out more than once. For collegiate sports, winter sports, Olympic sports, and a list I could keep going with as long as my arm. So very few people live in a place that they even have the opportunity to be a local fan of so many things. Something not to be taken lightly. What a remarkable gift.
I’m thankful to have a remarkable family and set of friends. For a belly full of turkey and stuffing and potatoes, though the tryptophan keeps trying to kick in and is making it harder to write. If you’re still reading a thousand-plus words later, I’m thankful for you. Thank you.
I’m thankful for however many more sunrises and sunsets I still get to take these deep breaths and yawp my barbaric yawp and chase this chance to not give up on my dreams just yet. Just as Kobbe said to me nightly all those years back.
Even if you are in a place that does not typically celebrate Thanksgiving and its weekend, I’d ask you to take a quick moment anyway to look around you – physically or metaphysically – and count your many blessings. It’s an exercise every heart should be taking, and one I picked back up in earnest after some daily reminders from a good man I was lucky to call friend. An exercise that changed my life.
See you around, Kobbe. I’ll be chatting with you in my head when the Nuggets suffer their ups and downs, and I’ll be mentally giving you a hug when they grab that next ring. Keep a place for me next to the fire, and we’ll grab a beer and talk about hoops when I see you next. Thankful.
