Lebron James - "The Decision"

I have finally returned to you, my dear blogspot website. After dealing with computer viruses that wouldn't allow me to access you, I'm back, baby! And I'm fucking pissed.

Now, generally, I devote this site to reviews - mostly of movies, but sometimes comics, too. I am deviating from that today. Enjoy.

Some of my fondest memories of growing up involve basketball. Many of those memories included a guy named Michael Jordan. Perhaps you're familiar with him? He's the best basketball player to ever lace 'em up. I remember watching him win his first title against the Magic-led Lakers in 1990. I remember the repeat, and his dominating Game 1 performance against the Trailblazers when he made Clyde Drexler look like he was thinking that he may have chosen the wrong profession. I remember watching Game 6 of the '93 Finals at my Italian grandparents' tiny house, and my grandmother inexplicably stating, "You know, that Scottie Pippen is pretty good-looking for a negro." I remember my grandpa screaming, "Finito, Eddie! Finito!" as he was determined to change the channel, only to have my dad remind him that is was only halftime. I remember cheering crazily as the Bulls finished off the Suns, only half-realizing that MJ was probably going to retire after that. I remember MJ coming back, although with a new number (45), and seemingly less talent the second time around. I remember him proving us wrong. I remember watching the Bulls win their record-breaking 70th game of the '95-96 season against the Bucks in my bedroom on a small TV when I was supposed to be in bed. I remember watching Jordan's "shot" in my living room with my mom and brother, jumping up and down with the energy and excitement generally reserved for those who just won the lottery. I remember getting my ass kicked repeatedly by my brother on the basketball court. I remember, all-too-vividly, my 8th grade Boys Club team's final game of the season, in the championship game. We were up by three with 12 seconds left, and my teammate stole the ball. I ran up the court and caught a great outlet pass. I was being chased down by a much faster defender, and instead of going up for a layup, I pump-faked the fuck out of the kid as he went flying past me, and I gently banked the ball in. We ended up winning by five. Suffice it to say, I have a lot of fond memories of basketball on every level. Fuck, my very first french kiss took place on my basketball court in my backyard! Yeah, I loves me some basketball.

But then, a funny thing happened. I had a foot problem and couldn't play anymore. The excitement of the NBA had dissipated in MJ's absence. I hated Kobe Bryant and the Lakers for winning seemingly every year. I all but stopped watching the NBA, focusing instead on music. A few years later, a funnier thing happened. I was watching "The Daily Show," and they were broadcasting from Ohio due to the political atmosphere of the state. That night, Lebron James was the guest. I watched him, and I enjoyed his candor, his sense of humor, and his level of comfort in an environment most professional athletes don't find themselves. I resolved to catch one of his games with the Cavaliers next season. I watched a game and was immediately impressed. It's hard to describe professional athletes and their talents in words; it's even harder to describe the "it" that only a select few have. Lebron, like MJ before him, most assuredly had "it." I watched a few more games, then a few more, and the next thing I knew, I was a full-blown Cavs fan, watching every damn game I possibly could.

Then the 2007 playoffs arrived, and along with their arrival, came a whole new group of basketball memories, a whole slew of "I remember's..." I remember, for example, his 48 point evisceration of the once-great Detroit Pistons in Game 5. I remember watching, dejectedly, at a bar on my birthday, as the Cavs got pounded by the Spurs in the Finals. I remember, the next year, the elation that I felt when the Cavs made a huge trade for Wally Szcerbiak, Ben Wallace, Delonte West, and Joe Smith. I remember Lebron's Herculean effort in Game 7 of the Eastern Conference Semi's against the Celtics, where Lebron came so close to elevating his team to greatness, only to fail in the closing moments. I remember sitting at a Mexican restaurant in Tacoma, WA, watching Lebron hit the biggest shot of his career to that point, winning the game on a three-pointer as time expired. I remember a lot, of course.

And, because I remember a lot, I will never forget Lebron's narcissistic behavior in the weeks leading up to his decision to join the Miami Heat. It's not just what he did, of course, but it's how he did it. It's how he gave not only my team false hope, but five other teams, as well. Throughout the past three years (in which I missed only a grand total of four Cavs games, by the way), Lebron has flirted with numerous cities including New York and New Jersey. A few years back, he promised to "bring a championship to Cleveland." He has a tattoo that reads, "Loyalty." He always acted like the hot girl that you knew you could never bang, but still sent out signals that she's into you to those other cities. But still, through all of the flirtatious moments, he always made sure it was known that his home was in Ohio, and that he wanted to bring a championship to the city that has been without one since 1964.

Then, after an unceremoniously early exit from the playoffs this year at the hands of the Celtics (and some conspiracy theorists' opinion that Lebron simply gave up), Lebron stopped flirting with everyone. He became a bit of a shut-in. Instead of going on a city-to-city tour of his potential suitors, he held his meetings in a downtown Cleveland office, minutes away from The Q, his basketball kingdom for the past few years. Whether this decision was intentional or not, it sent out a message to basketballs fans and teams alike - you have to convince me to leave my home. All signs pointed to Lebron, a notorious attention-craver, would listen to these enticing offers, but he would, at the end of the day, stay at home and finish what he started.

Then he didn't.

From an emotional standpoint, spurning the Cavs for the Heat hurts. It hurts even more knowing his behavior and words that he's spoken in the past. But the most painful thing? His cold and calculated decision to have a one-hour special dedicated to himself on ESPN, in which he announced his decision to sign with the Miami Heat. Even as the truth started to emerge, nobody actually thought that Lebron would hold a heavily-hyped publicity stunt in which he would shit on his home state, his most ardent supporters, and the franchise that literally did everything in their power to make him happy. The city itself was based on Lebron James. He was the unofficial mayor of the town, the story of the hometown hero who defied the odds, put a broken city on his back, and marched towards greatness with an unshakable determination. Then, he left.

His decision may very well cripple a city that's already on it's knees. That's unfortunate, but his decision also shows how little he truly believes in himself. This is the guy who was supposed to be the next MJ, not the next Pippen. And Pippen, as great of a player as he was, is now Lebron's maximum ceiling as a player and a legend. He gave up the idea of being a King to be a sidekick. Lebron COULD have been great, one of the top three or four players ever to lace 'em up. Now? He'll be really good, and he'll probably win a few rings, but he's never going to be the "Chosen 1," the words he has inked across his back. His legacy is forever tarnished now, for no matter how many rings he ends up with, he'll always be the guy who couldn't win on his own terms. Jordan would never have teamed up with Magic or Bird to win, because he didn't want to just be the best, he wanted to beat the fuck out of the best. MJ didn't have friends - he had opponents. He wanted to destroy every opposing player the moment they stepped on the court, and he could not have lived with himself if he had won championships by compromising himself in the least. That's what separates MJ from the best - he was the best, but he kept getting better.

I can get past the emotional feelings, though. Yes, what he did was a dickhead move. It's probably the biggest asshole moment in sports history; it's definitely the biggest asshole move in my lifetime. But then, it's only a sport. Sports exist to supplement our lives, not to rule them. Emotionally, I'm still pissed, but I'll still cheer for my Cavs, and I'll be okay tomorrow, and the day after that.

Really, what I'm most upset about is the narcissistic behavior displayed by Lebron James throughout this entire process. I'm only 25, and I don't want to be the guy who trashes the media, or seem like a crotchity old man complaining about the loose morals of the young'uns, but I wonder what this type of behavior from a supposed role model will do to the younger minds who love and follow Lebron James adamantly. The example he set last night was this: look out for number one, and don't worry about the consequences of your actions. Be self-inflated. Don't give a fuck about hurting anyone's feelings - this is very important, because I'm not talking about the fans, I'm talking about his teammates whom he'd made promises to, and to the owner of the Cavs, Dan Gilbert, who spent more money than any other owner in the NBA these past few years to give Lebron everything he wanted and needed to win - because, at the end of the day, you've gotta do it yourself. But you don't really have to do it yourself if you've joined up with two other cats who are great at their jobs, too.

Lebron simply hurt his legacy and his brand. That's fine with me, because I don't personally know him, and he's just an athlete at the end of the day. But I'll never forgive his completely self-centered attitude surrounding his decision, and his constant yearning to be the center of attention. His decision, and the mechanics he used to relay said decision, has severely damaged sports, and the NBA in particular. That part really hurts me, too, because I'm a huge fan of the NBA. I hope that this doesn't speed up the process of a looming NBA lockout, and I hope that the acts of a spoiled brat who has never had to be held accountable for everything doesn't sour the sport for other fans.

I hope the Cavs continue to improve in other ways, in Lebron's absence, and I hope that Lebron's signing in Miami urges many other people to pick a team and boo the Heat every time they play.

Lebron wanted to be the biggest story in sports. He got it, but now he's no longer the hero, the messiah, the "King," or the "Chosen 1."

Nope. Now he's a villain. Now, he's just another asshole athlete.