Surely you already heard about this, but two nights ago, there was a little altercation between ESPN the Magazine writer, Laura Lane, and Kobe's hot wife, Vanessa Bryant.
As the story goes, Laura wrote the following about Vanessa on her now-defunct (or made private) blog:
"Vanessa, who is usually prim and proper in all black, has decided to have fun tonight. … She's wearing a white tube dress, a purple tutu, black leggings, high-heeled short boots and a rhinestone-encrusted white leather jacket with the number 8 on the back, Kobe's old number. … 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."
Vanessa took offense to this and let Ms. Lane know about it:
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.
[More f-words ensue. Many more.]
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 only thing that surprises me is that no one big has parlayed the Lane-Bryant episode into any type of fat joke.
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