The period in NBA history spanning 2004 to 2007 is often relegated to the background of Kobe Bryant’s legendary career. It exists as a fragmented memory, a kind of necessary wilderness between the dominant three-peat dynasty with Shaquille O’Neal and the final championship victories with Pau Gasol. Yet, this ‘forgotten stretch’ was arguably the most formative and psychologically revealing of his life. It was here, during a time of agonizing team failure, that Kobe Bryant stopped being a superstar sidekick and fully transformed into the relentless, solitary entity known as the Black Mamba.

He made scoring look like art. The stats alone are staggering: an NBA-leading 35.4 points per game at his peak, four straight 50-point nights, a staggering 62 points in just three quarters against Dallas, and, of course, the mythic 81-point explosion against the Toronto Raptors. This was an individual force playing a game of chess while everyone else was playing checkers.

But the true narrative twist of this era, the one that makes it such a compelling and emotionally engaging chapter, is the brutal dichotomy of his individual success against team despair. Despite his heroics, the Lakers missed the playoffs once and suffered two frustrating first-round exits. Kobe failed to win an MVP or a championship during this span. This contradiction is the key to understanding the sheer weight of expectation and doubt that fueled the creation of the Black Mamba.

The Shattered Crown and the Search for Identity

The catalyst for this transformation was the devastating 2004 NBA Finals loss to the Detroit Pistons, which saw the heavily favored Lakers dynasty unravel. The subsequent fallout was seismic. Long-simmering tensions led to the trade of Shaquille O’Neal to Miami, and Phil Jackson, who famously chronicled the internal turmoil, was let go after declaring he wouldn’t coach the team if Kobe remained.

The prevailing sentiment was that Kobe, despite his talent, was too selfish and incapable of leading a team without the dominant gravitational pull of Shaq. Critics pointed to his addiction to control, his preference for shooting over passing, and the deep-seated distrust in his teammates. The message was clear: you will never win without him.

Kobe, however, had tasted the spotlight during O’Neal’s injury recovery in 2002-2003, where he managed to drop at least 40 points in nine straight games. He recognized this was his chance to step to the forefront and put a team on his shoulders. Fueled by this monumental doubt—specifically a story where Shaq claimed he couldn’t win without him—Kobe doubled down on his dedication, declaring, “You’re done. We’ll see.”

The Mamba’s Genesis

Kobe’s new identity was born not in triumph, but in defiance. Inspired by Quinton Tarantino’s film Kill Bill, he embraced the moniker “Black Mamba”—the silent, deadly predator. “People don’t like snakes, and I know y’all don’t with me, so I’m going to embrace that and I’m going to be the black mamba,” he stated. It was a conscious decision to become the villain, the anti-hero, the player who would destroy an opponent regardless of the outside noise.

This mindset was immediately tested. On Christmas Day 2004, in his first battle against Shaq and his new running mate Dwyane Wade, Kobe was clearly on a mission. He forced O’Neal to the bench with foul trouble. But in the final moments of overtime, the Lakers had a chance to win, and Kobe’s shot didn’t fall, handing the victory to Miami. The loss was devastating, confirming the fears of his peers who said he’d never win another title without Shaq.

The 2004-2005 season became a disaster. The team lost their head coach due to health issues, and Kobe himself was forced to sit out for a month with an ankle injury. The Lakers collapsed, winning only two of their final 20 games and missing the playoffs entirely. Deep in thought on the bench, sitting there as the fans booed him, Kobe made a silent promise: “I’m going to win another three, four titles. And I want to win a championship in this building and in this arena.”

The Unstoppable Force: 62 and 81

The return of Phil Jackson for the 2005-2006 season gave the team stability, but not talent. Kobe set two clear goals: for the team to improve and to get back on the All-Defense First Team. The MVP or scoring title meant nothing; it was all about championships. But winning, it turned out, required his full, unadulterated firepower.

His scoring reached historic, almost unbelievable heights. In December 2005, facing the Dallas Mavericks, who many believed were destined for the Finals, Kobe delivered a breathtaking performance. He scored 62 points in just three quarters, outscoring the entire Mavericks team 62-61 heading into the fourth. When asked by assistant coach Brian Shaw if he wanted to start the fourth quarter to chase 70 points, Kobe looked at the 30-point lead and famously said, “Nah, I’ll get it another time… when we really needed it.”

That “another time” arrived a month later, on January 22, 2006, against the Toronto Raptors. This game was personal, a chance for revenge against Jaylen Rose, who had purposely injured Kobe in the 2000 Finals. The Raptors’ game plan was simple: let Kobe get his, but shut down the rest of the team. Kobe, determined to demoralize them, went into a relentless, full-bore attack.

At halftime, he had already scored a jaw-dropping amount of points. But he kept going. He was hitting impossible shots, pulling up for three, and driving with unstoppable ferocity. Whispers started on the bench about reaching 60 points. He soared past 70, eventually finishing with 81 points. He hit 28-of-46 from the field and 18-of-20 from the line, completing the second-highest scoring game in NBA history. The moment felt more significant than the game itself, especially after he received a phone call from his idol, Magic Johnson, who told him how proud he was.

The Price of Greatness and the Infamous Game 7

The 2005-2006 season saw Kobe averaging an NBA-leading 35.4 points per game and leading his team back to the playoffs as the seven seed, facing the dominant second-seeded Phoenix Suns. The series was a legendary battle of will. Kobe delivered a monumental 45-point effort to take Game 3, and then hit the incredible, series-defining shot in Game 4—a miracle three-pointer to tie the game, followed by a game-winner in overtime.

Up 3-1, victory seemed within reach. But the Suns rallied, forcing a Game 7. In Game 6, Kobe had scored 50 points in a desperate attempt to close out the series. But Charles Barkley and other critics argued that his high volume shooting was fueling the Suns’ fast break and creating turnovers.

Then came the moment that defined the controversy of this stretch. During the final quarter of Game 7, with the Lakers being eliminated from title contention, Kobe Bryant suddenly refused to shoot, attempting only three field goals in the second half. It was a sudden, tragic shift. Why?

Kobe suggested the strategy was to get everyone involved, mirroring Game 4’s success. But many, including former teammates, believed it was an intentional act of spite—a way to prove to his coach or the front office that the current supporting cast was simply not good enough, and that he needed help. The consequence was elimination. His rival, Steve Nash, was crowned MVP, and Shaquille O’Neal won his fourth championship. The doubters were momentarily right.

The Transformation and Unbroken Legacy

Devastated by failure, Kobe sought advice from his mentor, Michael Jordan. Inspired by Jordan’s reflection on appreciating every moment, Kobe changed his number from 8 to 24 for the 2006-2007 season, signifying a new phase and a commitment to “soaking every day in.”

He delivered one last, historic scoring binge in the new number, including a 65-point night against Portland that sparked a record-breaking streak of four consecutive 50-point games, second only to Wilt Chamberlain. He once again dragged his limited team to the playoffs, only to lose to the Suns again.

It took until 2008, when the Lakers finally acquired the versatile Spanish big man Pau Gasol, for Kobe to find the missing piece and the collaborative partnership he desperately needed. That addition immediately led to an MVP award for Kobe and three consecutive Finals appearances, resulting in two more championships—including the all-important victory over the Boston Celtics, and a single ring more than Shaq.

The forgotten stretch from 2004 to 2007 was never about team success. It was the essential period of self-discovery, fueled by an agonizing commitment to the Mamba mentality. It was the time Kobe had to fully internalize the burden of carrying a franchise alone. It forged the resilience, the scoring mastery, and the indomitable will that made the later championships possible. When he eventually departed the league with a final, cathartic 60-point performance, he left as a five-time champion, a legend who had not only won on his own terms but had mastered the art of scoring in a way that, for a few brilliant and frustrating years, was truly unforgettable.