The Warriors face the Lakers in Staples Center on Monday night. If you want to get in the building as cheaply as possible, you can squeeze into the top corner of the upper deck for the cozy price of $280. Much of the lower bowl is in the high triple-digits.

Players are being told, if they need an extra ticket for a friend, it’ll cost $1,500 for a decent seat. Courtside price tags are over $10,000. It’s the most expensive game of the NBA regular season. And it has nothing to do with the Warriors.

It’s Kobe Bryant night in Staples Center. The Lakers are retiring his jersey numbers. That’s right: Numbers, not number. The historic franchise is raising both 8 and 24 to the rafters.

One of the league’s most legendary figures has legions of fans, millions stretched across the world. Fewer than 20,000 will be able to witness the exclusive retirement ceremony in person. Some of them will be on the visiting sideline.

“Oh, s—, that’s our game?” Kevin Durant said. “I gotta be out there for that one. Can’t be in the locker room.”

Kobe is this era’s Michael Jordan, an iconic figure revered for not only his hoops accolades but the brazen attitude he carried while ruthlessly racking up those gaudy numbers. Jordan was aged by the time many of these Warriors started watching hoops. Kobe was just entering his prime. Mention his name to anyone in the locker room and they’ve got a story.

So I did. In advance of Monday’s game, The Athletic asked a number of different Warriors to give their favorite Kobe memory and then answer a tougher-than-you’d-expect question: Which Kobe do you prefer — 8 (which he wore in the first 10 seasons of his Lakers career) or 24 (which he switched to in 2006 and wore until his retirement two seasons ago)?

Here were there responses:

David West

David West is the oldest Warrior. Only West and Zaza Pachulia faced Kobe while Shaquille O’Neal was still a Laker. West faced him first: Nov. 7, 2003, the sixth game of West’s career.

He was drafted 18th overall out of Xavier months earlier. So he was still on the fringe of the Hornets rotation. Every minute was new and important and stressful. West only played six total that night. He didn’t enter until late in the third quarter.

When West was summoned from the bench, he scurried to the scorer’s table, eager for the next whistle. A few moments later, P.J. Brown fouled Kobe. Kobe shot the first free throw. Then the referees waved West into the game.

“This is when they had that superteam with Shaq, Gary Payton, Karl Malone,” West said.

To get down to the block for free throw rebounding position, he had to walk by Kobe, who was forced to wait for West before he could shoot his second free throw. As West dashed by him, eyes forward, Kobe muttered at the rookie.

“He asked me if I was nervous,” West recalled. “I’m standing between Karl Malone and him. Gary Payton is across the floor. Shaq is a few feet away. He was just like: ‘You nervous?'”

West, now a stern, wise 37-year-old enforcer, maybe the most un-nervous human you will ever meet, couldn’t even utter a word in response.

“Nah (I didn’t answer him),” West said. “Because I was nervous. I didn’t even move. They shot the ball and I just sort of stood there.”

Thirteen seconds later, West turned it over. Four years later, he was established in the league. The Hornets were good and Kobe started to take them seriously. The first time West noticed it was when Bryant started to pick Chris Paul up full court.

“Really getting into him,” West said. “I think he wanted to let it be known, wanted to send a message, I still view y’all as little fellas.”

In March of 2007, Kobe visited New Orleans and dropped 50 points on 29 shots. It was the fourth straight game he’d scored 50-plus points, tying Wilt Chamberlain for an NBA record. No one has done it since.

“Fierce competitor,” West said.

A year earlier, in February of 2006, Bryant visited Oklahoma City for the first time. The Hornets had temporarily relocated there after Hurricane Katrina. The arena was jacked up. So were the Hornets.

“Probably one of my favorite moments,” West said. “Dude (Desmond Mason) blocked his shot early in the game, about 6 minutes through. Kobe was like 0 for 2 from the floor. Guy blocked it, looked over to the bench and says: ‘Man, this motherf— can’t score on me.'”

And then …

“He scored 19 straight after that,” West said. “Always remember it.”

So which is it: 8 or 24?

“8,” West said. “Probably 8. 8 was a killer.”

Andre Iguodala

West told his Kobe memories from the visiting locker room in Charlotte last week. Just as he was wrapping up, Andre Iguodala returned to his nearby locker and began to listen in on the conversation. He smirked, giving off an ‘Oh, you think that’s bad?’ vibe. Then he interjected with one of his own.

Iguodala was drafted by the 76ers in 2004. He immediately became a defensive ace, deployed by coach Mo Cheeks to guard all the league’s best perimeter scorers.

In November of 2005, near the start of Iguodala’s second season, he tangled with Kobe in Kobe’s hometown of Philadelphia and won.

“He was 3 for 17, only had 17 points,” Iguodala said. “I was locking that s— up.”

Like any great decade-old tale, some of the statistics have been exaggerated. Kobe wasn’t 3 of 17, he was 7 of 27 for those 17 points. Four more makes, six more misses, but still an inefficient night mostly due to Iguodala.

“Then Phil Jackson said in the paper: ‘I’ve never seen anyone guard Kobe as good as that,'” Iguodala said. “Then Aaron McKie has a quote, he said: ‘Yeah, man, this kid grew up in the era of Kobe, he studied Kobe, so he can guard Kobe.'”

Two months later, the Sixers made the return trip to Los Angeles. Iguodala swears he’d forgotten about the first matchup. Kobe obviously hadn’t.

“He came in the visiting locker room and asked my teammates: ‘Yo, where’s Dre,'” Iguodala said. “They’re like, ‘Oh, he’s on the court shooting.’ He just said: ‘Tell him 50 tonight.’ It was like he’d been waiting for that game.”

Kobe guaranteed Iguodala 50 pregame and then delivered him to the doorstep of it, making 19 of his 29 shots, hitting all seven of his 3s and scoring 48 points before subbing out of a blowout win with 4 minutes still left to go.

“(Warriors assistant Chris) DeMarco found it on — what’s the system they use for old games? Synergy?” Iguodala said. “He’s like, ‘Yo, I’m watching it and was like, you know the Staples Center logo? He shot two 3s from the ‘A’ in Staples Center.’ He was making some incredible shots. I remember coming back to the bench and Mo Cheeks was like: ‘Young man, you did a helluva job tonight.'”

“I remember that Andre,” West said, cracking up. “I remember that.”

Iguodala didn’t want to take all the fault.

“He was just putting Chris Webber in the pick-and-roll,” he said. “I was dead meat.”

So which is it: 8 or 24?

“8,” Iguodala said. “8 had bounce. 8 was the one who came in the locker room and told me you’re getting 50 tonight.”

Shaun Livingston

The Clippers took Shaun Livingston in June of 2004, right in the middle of Kobe-mania in Los Angeles. By his second season, the typically terrible Clippers were actually a bit better than the gutted Lakers, who had just traded away Shaq.

In midseason, the two met in one of those Clippers “home” games that’s not really a home game. The court is red, but the stands are 90 percent Lakers fans.

This was Jan. 7, 2006. The night before, Kobe put 48 up on the Sixers and a young Iguodala. Yep, that same game from about 200 words ago. But their next game was less than 24 hours later.

Kobe started out a bit sluggish, which meant the Lakers started sluggish. He only had 10 points at halftime on 2-of-12 shooting.

“I remember we went up 20,” Livingston said. “Maybe 15, could be exaggerating.”

Elton Brand hit some free throws to put the Clippers up 13 in the third. They were the deeper team. They won two more games that season. Smush Parker, Chris Mihm and Kwame Brown were in Kobe’s starting lineup.

“This was Prime Kobe,” Livingston said. “He willed them guys to the playoffs.”

But to get there, every regular-season game, especially one against a mid-tier Western Conference rival like the decent Clippers, was important. So, trailing by double-digits, Kobe jolted it back into fifth gear, basically a nightly must if this team wanted to win.

“He ran off maybe 20, 25 straight points,” Livingston said.

In all, Kobe scored 40 second-half points, giving him the 50-ball he’d guaranteed Iguodala a night earlier. He took 41 shots. His 41st was the dagger, a running 7-foot floater with 11 seconds to give the Lakers a one-point lead.

“Second-greatest player of all-time,” Livingston said. “Greatest player I played against, in his prime.”

Livingston was 19 at the time. He played 26 minutes that night. He was guarding Kobe on that game-winner. Two years earlier, he was playing high school games in Peoria, Illinois. Now he was back-pedaling down the Staples Center court, trying to figure out a way to contain one of the league’s all-time greats as his home crowd — supposedly — rooted against him.

“They’re just chanting his name: ‘Kobe! Kobe!'” Livingston said. “I’m like, yo, this is like out of a movie. Seriously. Stuff you don’t see. You have to write it up.”

So which is it: 8 or 24?

“The basketball side of me says 24,” Livingston said. “But 8, from the fan perspective, 8 was the most exciting — take off, dunk on you, do something crazy, hit a 30-footer. I’m kind of torn.”

Jordan Bell

Livingston’s final teenage years were spent in Los Angeles. During the same time period, Jordan Bell’s formative years were spent there.

The Warriors rookie, born in January 1995, was 2 years old when Kobe was drafted. He grew up in Long Beach. The only NBA he ever knew was one dominated by Kobe.

“Basketball God,” Bell said. “Whole family is Lakers fans. Watched every Laker game growing up.”

Bell has an older brother who is a full-fledged Kobe stan. If you tell him that LeBron is better, you’ll rope him into a heated argument. Bell liked riling his older brother up. So he always told him: LeBron’s better.

“I remember there was an All-Star Game,” Bell said. “Kobe blocked LeBron’s shot twice, something like that. My brother was in my ear twice about that. I think LeBron’s better, that’s just me. He thinks Kobe’s better. So he’s always bringing up the rings, I’m always bringing up MVPs. Back-and-forth.”

When he was “maybe 8 or 9,” Bell went to a fanfest at the Nokia Center near Staples Center. Kobe was the main attraction. Wherever he went, awed humans flocked, ogling at him like a beloved emperor walking amongst his citizens. Kobe walked right by a young Bell. He’ll never forget it.

“Have you ever seen ‘Dragon’?” Bell said. “With Bruce Lee. It was kind of like that. He just walked in and it was like, woahhhh, that’s Kobe. He just had this aura.”

Kobe’s first title came in 2000. Bell was 5. He doesn’t remember specifics, just that every part of Los Angeles was lit with Laker fever.

Kobe’s second title came in 2001. Bell was 6. He was at a relative’s house during Game 4 of the Western Conference finals that year. He fell asleep during the game.

That night, the Lakers finished off a four-game sweep of the Spurs, who employed 36-year-old Steve Kerr as a bench player. Kobe had 28, 36, 45 and 24 by game in that series. Bell doesn’t remember a single point that Kobe scored. He just remembers waking up, groggy-eyed, and witnessing the city’s reaction as he drove across the Watts district in South Central Los Angeles.

“My mom woke me up to take me to the car,” Bell said. “I didn’t know what was going on. It was at night and we just went down this street in L.A, in Watts. It was this big old street with people and everybody had like brooms out, just sweeping the street while it was dark out, honking and stuff. I’m super young just thinking, like, this is crazy.”

So which is it: 8 or 24?

“Uhh, probably … oh, that’s tough,” Bell said. “I’m going to say 24 because I feel like he understood the game more. 8 was just kind of out there shooting. So, I’d probably take 24. 8 was cold, though. 8 was cold. I’d probably take 24 though, more poised and mature.”

Steve Kerr

Kerr remembers that 2004 sweep well. A seven-time NBA champion in his various capacities, Kerr hasn’t experienced much failure in his career. But when he has, it’s often been at the hands of Kobe.

“When I was in San Antonio, we specifically had Bruce Bowen to guard Kobe,” Kerr said. “That was the idea. Bruce did as good a job as anybody. Bruce got under everyone’s skin, but Kobe didn’t give him the time of day. He didn’t let anything bother him. He’d just tell Bruce: ‘Oh, that’s good defense.’ Bruce would do something cheap, a little elbow here and Kobe never, ever reacted because he didn’t want anyone to think they were under his skin.”

Nine years later, Kerr was general manager of the Phoenix Suns. His team had reached the 2010 West Finals, where an older Kobe, now with Pau Gasol and Lamar Odom, was again running the conference. The Lakers beat Kerr’s Suns in six games. Kobe scored 40, 21, 36, 38, 30 and 37.

“The final game, he hit so many difficult shots and was, like, patting (our coach) Alvin Gentry on the butt,” Kerr recalled. “He’d hit a fadeaway crashing into our bench and then pat Alvin on the butt as he was going back. He was just so confident and nothing rattled him.”

So which is it: 8 or 24?

“I like 8. The original,” Kerr said. “There’s certain numbers that are sort of iconic. Bill Russell as No. 6, Michael Jordan as 23, Dr. J was 6 and 32 — he was the only one you could go back to like Kobe, two numbers — but Larry Bird was 33. You just associate guys with certain numbers. I associate Kobe with 8. It was unique to him.”

Klay Thompson

In 2003, the Thompson family moved from Portland to Los Angeles after Klay’s father, Mychal, a former Laker, was offered the radio analyst job by the franchise. So Klay got an up-close view of Kobe’s prime years.

In 2004, the Lakers faced the Pistons in the NBA Finals. Mychal brought Klay to Detroit for Games 3, 4 and 5. After three straight titles, the Lakers lost that year. Kobe’s relationship with Shaq had completely fractured. The Pistons disposed of them in five games. It was the final time that legendary duo would be teammates.

That night, hours after the Game 5 loss — during a somber moment for the franchise, experiencing what had just happened and knowing the blow up that was ahead — at the Townsend Hotel in Birmingham, Michigan, 14-year-old Klay Thompson had dinner with Kobe.

“It was just me, my dad, my uncle and my little brother at a table,” Klay said. “I remember Kobe pulled up and sat with us after his season just ended. I think he was just exhausted. Definitely pissed off. I don’t remember talking to him. I don’t remember saying much. But his presence was so cool, as a kid.”

Nine years later, in April of 2013, Thompson, now 23, was on the court for the moment that essentially pushed Kobe into retirement. With three games until the playoffs, Kobe was desperately trying to will his disappointing Dwight Howard-infused Laker squad to the 8-seed.

At 34, in Year 17, Kobe had played 48, 47, 43, 47, 41 and 48 minutes the previous six games. He was on minute 45 that night when, exhausted, he made a quick-twitch drive on Harrison Barnes and his Achilles tendon blew out. Bryant fell and grabbed at his heel, 10 feet from Thompson. Then he limped to the line, shot the free throws and had season-ending, career-altering surgery the next day.

“I just remember him toughing it out,” Thompson said. “Walking off the floor under his own willpower. Achilles rupture and all. I didn’t even know it was that bad because it didn’t really faze him.”

So which is it: 8 or 24?

“Probably remember 24 the most, but I enjoyed watching 8 because I was so young when he came into the league and he was so young coming into the league winning championships in his early 20s,” Klay said. “Definitely remember 24 the most.”

Kevin Durant

Kobe’s most memorable performance?

“Obviously the 81-point game,” Durant said. “I watched that live as a senior in high school.”

That came in January of 2006 against the Raptors. Two years later, in January of 2008, Kobe faced Durant for the first time in Seattle.

“He had 48 points on us and took 44 shots,” Durant said. “That was polarizing as a rookie, you see someone doing stuff like that. You wanted to emulate it. He meant a lot to a lot of basketball players.”

After his rookie season, Durant was invited to attend Team USA camp in Las Vegas as part of the select team — a bunch of young, rising NBAers there to train against the big club. During an off-day, Durant and Jeff Green, his teammate in Seattle and then OKC, took the optional bus to a UNLV gym to get some shots up.

Not many guys joined them. But just before the bus took off, Kobe hopped on, seated alone. Over the next couple hours, Durant and Green just observed.

“We were here,” Durant said, pointing to one side of the court. “He was down there with two coaches. He shot 50 3s from seven spots. Fifty makes. That’s hard. That takes a long time to do. It takes discipline. It was amazing to see that, a great lesson.”

Over the next decade, Durant and Kobe would lock horns 36 times as professionals, 11 spread over two playoff series. Durant held his own, averaging 28 to Kobe’s 26 and emerging with a 17-19 record.

“I remember the battles, the time spent on the court together, as competitors, as teammates on Team USA,” Durant said. “Just to get to know him as a basketball player and a little bit as a man. It was one of those things, while you’re in it, you don’t realize how great he is, but when he retires, you’re appreciative of all the time you were around greatness.”

So which is it: 8 or 24?

“I’m a Kobe 8 dude,” Durant said. “I grew up with Kobe rocking the 8 and having the bush. When he went to 24, I was like: ‘Noooooo! 8 is perfect.’ But to have two numbers retired, it had me thinking, damn, that’d be cool. I got another favorite number that I like.”

What number?

“11,” Durant said, before looking across the court at Klay Thompson. “But I can’t get that here.”

Zaza Pachulia

Those scoring explosions, combined with the assassin attitude, define Kobe to so many. Run down the core of all these memories and gobs of points are at the spine of them all.

But points don’t get Pachulia going. Brute force does. And these memories are unique to each guy. So Zaza’s, of course, is rooted in physicality.

During one of his early games against Kobe, as a young Atlanta Hawks center, Pachulia set a textbook screen on an unaware Kobe, who was rocked by the blindside pick.

“We ran a floppy action,” Zaza said. “He got caught up and my teammate shot a wide-open jump shot.”

It worked, so the Hawks went back to it. Pachulia maneuvered over to throttle another one of these wimpy guards with his bruising screens.

“And here comes Kobe running through me. Literally. He wasn’t accepting the screen.”

Kobe bulldozed Zaza to the ground. The referees called a foul on Kobe. He didn’t argue. He was too busy staring Zaza down, as the burly center crashed to the floor and then looked up, stunned.

“I was young,” Pachulia said. “I’m talking about 10-plus years ago, when I first got to Atlanta, I’m 21, 22. It was impressive. That’s why I’m telling the story. Not many guards are doing that. He set the tone because it definitely got me thinking.”

So which is it: 8 or 24?

“Uh,” Pachulia said. “Both.”

The Lakers couldn’t decide either. So both will get retired on Monday night.

(Top photo: Ezra Shaw/Getty Images)