Friday, June 22, 2012

The Evolution of a King: LeBron James and Us



The light man stands, tears in his eyes, hands in the air. He has conquered the mountain; the one they needed him to climb before he could be accepted. His brothers surround him, and though they have scaled it as well, the moment is his. Kind words are spoken, cheers and boos rain down, and the idol he has lusted for changes hands. He is invited to take it first. He does not hesitate. As he raises the golden sphere towards the sky, he is validated. The condemnation, the second-guessing, the pain: each have been relegated to steps in a process, a process he has now completed. His friends and teammates surround him, patting him on the back and yelling his praises. A smile erupts, maybe the first true one in years. After nine years of captivity, the man whom we treated as beast has been set free.

 The heavy man sits, tears in his eyes, hands together. The nightmare repeats, at least for another year. The seat feels as cold as it always does, and it provides none of the support he requires. His eyes shift uncomfortably as loaded questions and verbal traps are lobbed his way. His expression does not change, his face spills no secrets. He is a statue among men, but only because he must be, because anything else would give them exactly what they want. His friends sit on each side, but neither can protect him. Another year, another misstep. Another eternal summer.

            By the time this article has been finished, one of these scenes will take place. One will completely change the narrative of LeBron James’ career; the other will merely prolong it for another season. This may become a story of redemption, a guide to the trials and tribulations that have lead to LeBron’s first championship ring. It may end up as the preface to another dramatic failure in one of the strangest careers in all of professional sports. But as I write it now, with the NBA Finals tied at one game apiece, I look at it as a series of snapshots that have progressed the career of the most talented and divisive athlete of our time. LeBron James has become the ideal microcosm for the changing landscape in sports and fan hood. He has been built up and torn down as dramatically as any athlete in recent memory, and his career has intersected perfectly with the rise of social media in our culture. The result is a man who is both blessed and cursed by once-in-a-generation talent.

            Two men are positioned front and center; all eyes are pointed towards them. Only one man actually feels them.


LeBron James is The Phenom

 

The first time I ever saw LeBron James, he was mugging it up on the cover of Sports Illustrated, looking like a toddler who just shit his pants. It’s hard to conceive nowadays, when we have YouTube and scouting services that track players as young as twelve, but most sports fans had never heard of James before his appearance on SI. But as far as first impressions go, LeBron’s certainly couldn’t have gone much better (minus the picture. Seriously, what is that pose?). In the article, written by Grant Wahl, LeBron is introduced as being the possible heir to Michael Jordan. Danny Ainge is quoted as saying that "If I were a general manager, there are only four or five NBA players that I wouldn't trade to get him right now." Oh by the way, LeBron hadn’t even finished HIS JUNIOR YEAR OF HIGH SCHOOL YET. He was 17 years old, and a future Boston Celtics executive already considered him more valuable than all but five players in the NBA. Not to mention of course, the moniker of “The Chosen One”. When one is labeled as “chosen”, it is indirectly implied that there is someone or something doing the choosing. In this instance, the insinuation would seem to be that there exists a basketball deity, one that picks and chooses attributes, and molds them together to create basketball players. One that ultimately decided to create the perfect basketball player, one with no equals and no physical weakness. In the case of LeBron James, this may very well be the most likely scenario.

When watching LeBron James as a high-schooler, the physical gifts and skills are impossible to miss. At 6-8, weighing 240 pounds, he already had the build of a grown man, with room to add even more bulk. His athleticism was off the charts, with elite speed, strength, and leaping ability. When necessary, he could lock down any player on the court. But most impressive was undoubtedly his passing ability. LeBron’s court vision as a high schooler was absurd, there is no other way to put it. Not only could he see where every player was on the court; he could see where they would be in 5 seconds, and had the touch to get the ball exactly where it needed to be. And it wasn't enough that LeBron had incomparable passing skills; he was also a willing passer, who understood the game and how it could benefit his team to get other players the ball. This is a concept that many NBA stars never fully grasp, and LeBron James was a master of at 17 years old.


As his senior season ended and the buildup to the NBA Draft began, the popular comparison for LeBron was Magic Johnson. If the casual fan scoffed at this, they would have good reason. All too often nowadays, we evaluate prospects based on how they stack up against current and former players. This not only devalues the greats of the past, it creates excessive pressure for these prospects to live up to expectations. But Lebron, once again, broke the mold. Experts and analysts reached for the Magic similarity because, in NBA history, he’s the only other player who shared LeBron’s size, rebounding, and passing ability. But, as insane as it may sound, the comparison actually sold LeBron’s potential short. Not only could he clean up the boards and run the offense like Magic, he could also put up 30 points a game. And defend every position on the court.

Needless to say, when LeBron James was drafted first by his hometown Cleveland Cavaliers, the hype surrounding him was deafening. With Michael Jordan finally calling it quits the season before, the NBA was ready for a new superstar. Before he had even stepped foot onto an NBA court, we knew LeBron James was going to be that next superstar. There was no reason he shouldn’t have been. He had the game, he had the personality, he had the marketability. We had never before seen a player that brought as much to the table as LeBron James. All that was left to see was how the meal was going to taste.          



LeBron James is Better Than Advertised


Four years into LeBron James’ career, it tasted pretty damn good. At 22 years old, LeBron had just led the Cavaliers to their first Finals appearance (and subsequent destruction at the hands of the Spurs). While the loss was a difficult one to handle, it was viewed as merely a stepping stone, a learning experience for the young man who the NBA would soon belong to. Not only were LeBron’s considerable accomplishments something to behold, the flair in which he performed them captivated the basketball audience. From his first game it was evident that he was going to be one of the most exciting players we had ever seen pick up a basketball. The powerful drives to the rim. The no-look dishes to teammates that seemed to appear out of nowhere. The chase-down blocks. And the dunks, which begin with levitation, and ended with obliteration. Watching a young LeBron was truly thrilling, because you believed that at any moment, you could see the most spectacular play in NBA history.

This on-the-edge-of-your-seat factor, coupled with an accessible personality and loyalty to his hometown made LeBron the most popular athlete in the NBA at an age when most young men are graduating college. We put up with the little flaws here and there (his insistence on being called ‘King James’, the fact that after four seasons he still hadn’t developed a consistent jump shot or post game), because we were so blown away by the positives. He was our new puppy: he might’ve puked on the carpet every now and again, but he was so awesome all of the time that we didn’t mind cleaning it up.

The best part of watching an athlete grow into his own is those moments when he finally lives up to the expectations and shows what he is capable of at his absolute best. That’s exactly what we got with LeBron’s 48 Special against Detroit in 2007. The stats speak for themselves: 48 points, 9 rebounds, 7 assists, 29 of his team’s last 30 points, and the game-winning layup with two seconds left in the second overtime. All of this in game 5 of the Eastern Conference Finals, in a hostile environment, playing for a team with no other legitimate offensive weapons. What I remember most about that game is the moments after he scored what would be the game-winning basket. He walked over to the bench and bent over in exhaustion. His coach, Mike Brown, walked up to him and whispered something which I imagine must have been to the effect of, “Holy Shit. You’ve arrived. Also, thanks for saving my job, because I have no business being the head coach of an NBA team.” And I remember standing there with a smile on my face, because I knew I had just seen something beautiful. And any true NBA fan felt the exact same thing. We are all wired that way. We want to see greatness be realized. That’s why we persecute those who do not live up to their abilities. And that’s why it is such an exhilarating feeling to see it actually happen.



Unfortunately, we are also human, and thus irrational and impatient. If we see it happen once, we expect to see it again, and again, and again. We’ve seen you single-handedly demolish an opponent before, thus we cannot understand why you cannot do it every time your team needs you too. Perhaps we’ve been spoiled by the greats of the past. The true legends performed at their best on the biggest stage, time and time again. Maybe if we never had a Bill Russell, or a Larry Bird, or a Michael Jordan, we wouldn’t expect so much from our stars. If this is the case, LeBron may want to write them a strongly-worded letter.

On the night King James seemingly lived up to his nickname, I would have bet anything that he was going to fulfill his promise to bring a title to Cleveland. I guess it’s a good thing I’m not a gambling man and I have no money.


 LeBron James is Alone


He walks into the tunnel of darkness and tears off his uniform; it is emblazoned with the city’s name on the front, and his on the back. The narrative suggests that this could be the last time he wears this coat of arms, and the moment is not lost on any of us. This could be the end of an era, and what an unusual end it would be. Mystery shrouds the events of the past weeks, and perhaps always will. Uncertainty lies ahead, and our hero has done nothing to quell the doubt. We can only hope for loyalty now. It is all that connects the man and the robe.

            James’ last playoff series with the Cavaliers remains one of the most debated and mysterious events in recent basketball history. The 2010 Cavaliers won 61 games, blowing through any opposition with ease and visible delight. They played with a joy and togetherness that most championship teams exude. LeBron won his second straight MVP award, and they cruised through the Chicago Bulls in the first round of the Playoffs. In the second round, they met the aging Boston Celtics, 4th seed in the East, and a team that Cleveland was expected to roll through. What happened next was nothing short of bizarre. LeBron milked a puzzling elbow injury that would appear and disappear without rhyme or reason. The teams split the first two games in Cleveland. In Game 3, LeBron had one of his “screw this, I’m taking over” games, scoring 21 points in the first quarter and ensuring that the Celtics never got close. The Cavaliers lost the next game, which set up a critical Game 5 in Cleveland. Everyone expected another great James performance, one that would put his team ahead in the series. What we got was not that. What we got was 15 points on 3-14 shooting. Not only that, we got a LeBron James who looked genuinely disinterested. He floated around and took perimeter jump shots instead of driving to the basket and imposing his will. He barely spoke with teammates, sitting in silence on the bench, isolating himself. In a game that coupled as his last home game as a Cavalier, The Chosen One chose not to act.

The Celtics won the series in six games, and LeBron ripped off his jersey on camera, for everybody to see. Rumor flew as to what had happened to a team that seemed destined for success. The one that gained the most steam was that teammate Delonte West had slept with LeBron’s mother. While no evidence of this affair came forth, nobody considered it impossible; West was in the midst of a battle with bipolar disorder, and Gloria James was notorious for her bad behavior. Whether true or not, the point is that we believed that the cause for LeBron’s disappearance had to be something so drastic. We couldn’t even consider that the most talented player of our generation would lay such an egg in a must-win game. There had to be more.

It is at this exact moment that LeBron’s faults finally caught up to his potential on the line graph of public opinion. The new puppy had turned into the troublesome dog. We saw his arrogance clearer than ever now. After two straight seasons in which the Cavaliers were favored to win the title, our impatience began to rear its ugly head. The “We are Witnesses” banners and t-shirts suddenly seemed narcissistic. His patented pregame chalk-throwing now looked so egocentric. We no longer wanted showmanship, we wanted results; we wanted rings. Until the King delivered such jewelry, we could never love him unconditionally.

What made it worse was, that’s all he wanted. With every move he made, every interview he gave, every game he played, it became painfully obvious that LeBron James wanted to be loved. He said it himself; when asked about his goals for his career, his response was simply, “Global icon.” And with every playoff run, with every chance at a championship, you could see the pressure on his shoulders. He knew what was expected of him, and wanted nothing more than to please us. And so it was that the Promise of LeBron James became the Burden of LeBron James.


LeBron James is No Longer King


            If only he knew. If only somebody had told him. If only he understood, then maybe he could have avoided his transformation into the villain of basketball. That’s what was so shocking about The Decision. It’s not that he left Cleveland; we had been prepared for that. Free agency is just a fact of the matter in today’s NBA. It was that he organized a television program that spent the first half hour blowing him, the next five minutes ripping the heart out of America’s most tortured sports city, and the final half hour blowing him. It was that he abandoned loyalty (the Cavaliers), legendary opportunity (bringing a title to New York), and the chance to create a dynasty (the Bulls, with Derrick Rose and multiple role players). It was that he joined one of his greatest rivals, something that we had never seen before, something that the greats of the past would have NEVER even considered. What made Jordan great is that he wanted to beat the best. He wanted the greatest challenge, because he knew he could overcome it. This seemed like a shortcut. This seemed wrong.

            Despite all of this, I can’t say I wasn’t excited to see the Heat in action. To me, this signaled the beginning of the LeBron James I had waited so long to see: LeBron the point guard. In Cleveland, James was expected to be Jordan. He had to be the number one guy, the man that took on opposing defenses on his own and willed his team to victory. Now, with Dwyane Wade, LeBron could play the position I always imagined him dominating. He could be Magic 2.0, a point guard who grabs rebounds, runs the offense, and dishes out the most beautiful assists you would ever see. The Heat could become the new Showtime Lakers, a team that would be both dazzling and dominant, a team that would run the fast break so majestically it made you want to cry. With the right coach and the right system, this could be a team that played basketball the way it was meant to be played. I would never root for them, but damnit I could enjoy watching them play.

            Of course, as is too often the case, I was disappointed in the result. Heat games turned out to be glorified one-on-one tournaments. LeBron takes a few possessions here, Wade takes a few possessions there. Sure, they would provide highlights, but it wasn’t the ball movement exhibition that we so desperately wanted to see. And so we hated them. We hated them because they represented the worst of the NBA: one-on-one isolation basketball, spoiled superstars, and bandwagon fans. While there are varying degrees of truth to the accusations thrown at the Heat, they always appeased us by giving us ammunition to throw back at them. The championship-level celebration before they had even played a single game. The mocking of Dirk Nowitzki’s fever. The late game chokes and collapses. The Heat, and to a greater extent LeBron James, made for perfect villains, and the general public welcomed any opportunity to disparage them.

            Through all of the highs and lows of LeBron’s first season in Miami (a season in which he would win MVP honors and disappear in the Finals once again), I felt a sense of déjà vu. I had seen this story before; these narratives had been played out already. I only recently realized the source of this feeling, and it came from one of the most unlikely mediums: science fiction. You see, LeBron James is Anakin Skywalker (it’s a good thing I’m not single, otherwise I’m sure my upcoming sports/sci-fi nerdsplosion would scare any eligible women away).

            Both Skywalker and James were born under strange circumstances, with mystery regarding their fathers (is it really that much of a leap to suggest that LeBron may have been conceived by a concentrated level of midi-chlorians?). Both grew up poor, with especially close relationships to their single mothers. Skywalker was found to be exceptionally strong with the Force, and was thought to potentially be The Chosen One spoken of in prophecy. James was found to be exceptionally gifted with a basketball, and was labeled as, you guessed it, “The Chosen One”. Both created controversy with their ages in relation to their schooling; Anakin was considered too old to begin his training to become a Jedi, while LeBron entered the NBA Draft out of high school, and was thought to be given too much at too young an age. Each had promising early careers, but then chose to make life-altering decisions based on selfish desires. Skywalker turned to the “Dark Side” of the Force with the belief that he would gain power over death. LeBron joined the Miami Heat with the belief that he would gain the elusive championship ring. Both were guided in these decisions by crusty old men in positions of high power. 


            Darth Vader became the villain that we all loved to hate. LeBron James was only destined for the same. Vader redeemed himself in the end, and finished as an archetypal story of failure and redemption. With one game separating James from salvation, can he do the same?


LeBron James is a Champion


             And so the light man triumphed after all. And if you’ll notice, the scene developed exactly as I wrote it would. The smiles, the kind words, the final release of joy and relief. I knew it was coming. But as I watched LeBron James embrace the Larry O’Brien trophy, I was surprised by one thing: I was genuinely happy for him. After wanting nothing more than to see him fail, seeing him succeed was so much more gratifying. In hindsight, watching him tear through the rest of the league in this year’s Playoffs was truly something to remember. I saw true greatness. Funny thing is, that’s all we wanted from LeBron. And while he didn’t win a title in the jersey we wanted him to, and he made some monumental errors along the way, LeBron James became exactly what we wanted him to be: an all-time great. Funnier thing is, he’s only 27 years old.

            So who is LeBron James to us now? Has he fallen back into our good graces? Or is he as divisive as ever, just with a ring on his finger? There’s no way to tell. If this turns out to be the last time LeBron James wins a title, then maybe he isn’t off the hook after all. But in watching LeBron during his dominant run to the NBA Championship, I’ve seen that it doesn’t matter what we think of him. For the first time in his career, he doesn’t care what is said or not said about him. And that’s what made him so dangerous over the past few weeks. He was focused on basketball, and basketball alone. The LeBron we saw in Game 6 against the Celtics, when he put together one of the most dominant performances in recent memory, was not a man scared of elimination, of ridicule. He was a man who knew what he had to do to win a basketball game. When the game becomes that simple, a player like LeBron James is unstoppable. In that sense, LeBron has finally evolved. He has become a King.

            The light man stood in front of the mass of faces. His was the one they looked to; his was the one they pleaded for. The moment belonged to him, and he knew it. All eyes fixated towards him, looking for the man they wanted him to be. He knew they were there, but he did not feel them. And in that moment, we all knew he never would again.


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