Laura Lane is an ESPN The Magazine online writer who recently wrote some quotes in from Kobe Bryants wife Vanessa Bryant.
Kobe’s wife, Vanessa, has opted to make her own fashion statement. Vanessa, who is usually prim and proper in all black has decided to have fun tonight with her outfit. She’s wearing a white tube dress, a purple tutu, black leggings, high heeled short boots and a rhinestone incrusted white leather jacket with the number 8 on the back, Kobe’s old number. Bryant’s daughters, Natalia and Gianna both have shirts that say “Got MVP?”
“When he changed his number I didn’t have anything with a 24 on it so I had them make this dress,” Vanessa says. “I don’t know how to sew that well so I just told them what to do.”
The girls, however, prefer their soccer uniform over ballerina tutus.
“I have stuff like this for them but they don’t want to wear it,” Vanessa says. “She’s like, ‘I don’t want to wear it. It itches.'” Bryant’s kids have recently started playing soccer in addition to gymnastics, ballet and hip-hop.
“I’m like a total soccer mom,” Vanessa says.
Doesn’t seem that bad too me. Well I guess Vanessa didn’t know that those quotes were gonna go online and she didn’t like it when she found out.. When She saw Laura at the game she made sure to let her know how she felt about it last night. It wasn’t nice. This is from Laura’s Blog:
Last night, I got cussed out by Vanessa Bryant. Seriously. At the Lakers game. In front of her kids. In front of the Lakers locker room. It was awesome. She is mad about an article I wrote where I mentioned her. That means one of two things – she either reads the ESPN blog or she has herself on Google alerts. Both are fantastic.
So as I’m walking out of the Lakers locker room after some post-game interviews with the players, I pass Vanessa, who is sitting outside the locker room as usual with her two girls.
“Laura!” she screams (yes, she apparently knows my name). “Fuck you! You fucking bitch!”
“Excuse me?” I say, completely baffled as I look around me to see if there is someone else named Laura. No, there’s not.
Her daughters – ages 5 and 2 – are sitting next to her on the bench looking at their mom as she screams.
“Fuck you! How dare you write about me and my daughters and their schedule! You didn’t say you were writing an article! Fuck you! You fucking bitch. You have no journalism ethics! Fuck you! You bitch – ”
I just stare at her. I’ve heard many stories about her from reporters, but this was unbelievable. Two of my friends from the LA Times told me how she cussed out one of them last season, because he said hi to her daughter. “Join the club, this means you’ve arrived,” said one reporter when word spread of my run-in with Vanessa. “She’s insane,” said another. “Everyone knows it.”
The nerve of Laura. Doing her job. What the hell was she thinking. I mean all Vanessa did was talk to a journalist. Why would she ever think that the journalist would then go and publish it. I mean it’s her job. Thats just appalling.
Something tells me that if I ever run into Kobe’s wife, she won’t like me very much.
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