I celebrate Tyra and Kobe. ANTM and her talk show are both noteworthy achievements, but with all the extraness that comes with that, it’s easy to forget that Tyra was, at one point, definitionally, a dream girl: people weren’t supposed to look like this in real life; no one should be a standard deviation away from the rest of the Victoria’s Secret models. I celebrate Kobe because he is the rare person who was the object of unrealistic expectations and somehow found a way to meet them. And I celebrate the very idea of this picture, the idea that Kobe and Tyra could have been just waking up on a lazy Saturday morning, and that somehow in the tumult of their busy lives, they’d found a miraculous moment where they could just be themselves, with themselves. He knew he’d be off on a five-game road trip soon; she knew she’d be in New York for fashion week. None of that matters in the moment captured here. Maybe one day, after the lights had faded, they would move somewhere far away from the strum und drang, where every Saturday would be like this Saturday, except for the ones where they would go and watch their daughter play basketball. As expected, she grew up to be impossibly good at basketball and impossibly beautiful with really, really good SAT scores. They named her Skylar Diggins Britney Griner Neil DeGrasse Tyson Bean Bryant, and she would become the first woman to play in the NBA and the youngest to ever get a Ford Models contract. But alas, there is no Tyra and Kobe. Sometimes I feel that their lives, and the world, might be better if they were. Still, it’s dangerous to second guess these things. So I do not mourn for what could have been; I celebrate what was and will always be—in this photograph.