Kobe Bryant

Net worth: $140 million
Source of wealth: Basketball, endorsements
Residence: Newport Beach, Calif.
Age: 30





Son of former pro basketball player Joe "Jellybean" Bryant skipped college ball; jumped straight from high school to the NBA at age 17 in 1996. Drafted by the Los Angeles Lakers; parents had to co-sign contract. Now is one of the game's premier players; 11-time All-Star and league's 2008 MVP has won three world championships with the Lakers. Endorsement deals pad earnings. Nike launched Zoom Kobe IV earlier this year; company's "lightest basketball shoe ever."

It's the latest Bryant alleged meltdown, and it's the Lakers star at his essence, anger wreaking havoc with calm, intensity swallowing up innocence.

On Sunday at St. Therese of Carmel Church in San Diego's Carmel Valley, police say, Bryant became upset at a man who he thought was taking his picture. Police said Bryant grabbed the man's cellphone in an altercation that allegedly sprained the man's wrist. Police said Bryant found no photos on the phone, returned it to the man, then left church early.

An investigation is taking place, and I know what happens now. As soon as everyone stops joking, everyone will start condemning. It's the usual reaction to Bryant's absurd theater, and I'm usually leading that parade.

But this sounds different. This feels different. For once, instead of everyone screaming, I think we should all be pausing.

I'm not saying Bryant's alleged actions were justified. I'm just saying that maybe they are understandable.

When it comes to church, I adhere to the mandate shouted by the fictional Hunchback when he once stood at the doors of Paris' Notre Dame Cathedral.

"Sanctuary! Sanctuary!"

Church is where we escape from the world's perception of us into who we actually are. Church is the one place we should be able to feel naked in a crowd with nobody looking.

Public personas do not exist at church. During the height of the USC athletic department turmoil last year, I spent several consecutive Sundays sitting several pews in front of the much-maligned Mike Garrett, yet we never exchanged a word. Maybe he never saw me, but he acted as if I were invisible, and likewise, and later when friends asked me if that was uncomfortable, I was fortunate enough to be able to say, no, that's just Mass.

Professional standings do not exist at church. I spent several springs in Vero Beach, Fla., sitting a couple of pews in front of then-Dodgers catcher Mike Scioscia, often even close enough to shake hands during the Catholic sign of peace. Yet while we often talked in the clubhouse, we never spoke in that House, and it worked.

"The great thing about church is, you walk inside, and you are who you are," said Father Mike Gutierrez, pastor at St. John the Baptist in Baldwin Park and a priest for 18 years. "You're not a celebrity anymore. You're just you, and people need to give you space to be you."

Nobody has a right to grab a cellphone from anyone else. Nobody has a right to call attention to themselves in a place that represents something far bigger than him. If it turns out Bryant actually hurt this guy, then he should be forced to fill his collection basket.