And, boy, am I happy with that. As a troubled Cavaliers fan, I had to deal with a year-long lashing from damn near everybody I know. I heard it all, from the uninformed chumps giving me shit, and justifying Lebron's "punk move" of "The Decision" to others playfully jabbing my dedication to a hurting franchise. The moment Lebron announced he was shipping off to Miami, I proclaimed that I would never stop loving my Cavaliers, but now I was also a fan of 29 teams in the NBA. I didn't care who won, so long as it wasn't the Miami Heat.
As it turns out, I got my wish in the form of a rejuvenated Dallas Mavericks squad who quietly put together a highlight reel of "Y'know-these-guys-are-good-enough-to-win-the-whole-thing" throughout the playoffs. I've always loved Dirk Nowitzki - it's kind of hard for an unathletic white boy like me to not support a tall unathletic white man in a sport dominated by athletic freaks - so it just happens to be a happy coincidence for me that the team I so badly wanted to get beat was beaten by one of the few teams I actually wanted to see win the championship.
It's great that Dirk got his revenge against the Heat, the team that beat him in the 2006 NBA Finals, but beating the three-headed monster of Lebron-Wade-Bosh has cemented Dirk's place in "Bad-Ass Heaven," right alongside MJ, Mike Tyson, Carl Weathers, and Clint Eastwood. He, frankly, did things on the court in the Finals this year that simply shouldn't be done. No, there were no crazy high-flying antics like MJ's turning a dunk into a layup in mid-air, but the shots he hit, the comebacks he orchestrated, the leadership he showed, and the dedication to win are what NBA Legends are made of. Dirk has finally exited the long-dreaded "Great Player Without A Ring" circle - g'bye, Chuck and Karl! - and has taken his place alongside Alpha Dog Champions like MJ, Shaq, Kobe, and Duncan. Nobody can doubt that this guy was THE player this postseason, and nobody can even begin to question that his team earned the championship through great play and the old classic "Never-say-die" attitude. Dirk won the Finals, and the Finals MVP, on his terms, doing his things, and kicking everyone else's ass in his way. It was, simply, inspiring.
Unfortunately, a lot of that is going to go unnoticed by the masses, because the sexier story is that the Miami Heat failed. I am going to plead guilty to that as well, because now I am going to talk about their failure and just how much I enjoyed watching it all.It's hard to describe how much I enjoyed watching this. I almost feel bad about it; I certainly feel like something is wrong with me for delighting in the professional failure of someone else, but I suppose that is just the nature of sports. It's logically illogical - it elicits responses in us that don't make sense, for reasons that are ridiculous, yet we still feel them anyway. I vividly remember last July, as I was wearing my Lebron jersey over top of my Lebron MVP shirt, watching "The Decision," and then being shit on as he announced he was taking his talents to South Beach. I dejectedly took both the jersey and shirt off, and unlike many of my fellow Cavaliers fans, I didn't burn them in a mass effigy to the basketball gods. Rather, I took all my Lebron regalia and put it into a box and gave it to Goodwill. I figured there was a certain irony to giving up all that stuff to a place named "Goodwill," as Lebron had certainly wasted any of the good will he had built up with me. Years of not missing a Cavs game, watching in awe as he exploded for 48 points against the Pistons in '07, going bat-shit insane in Seattle when he hit the game-winning three against the Magic in the 2009 playoffs, supporting him through his choke-job against the Celtics, all gone in an instant when he betrayed my team.
He wasn't dead to me, and I never wished him bodily harm (well, not really, I may have muttered a few, "I hope he blows his fuckin' ACL"s every now and then, but never seriously). But I wanted him to lose every game ever because not only was he not on my team anymore, he shit all over it. He left my favorite franchise in a hole, with no chance to better itself because he had to be a prima donna and be the last one of the coveted free agent class to make his announcement. He just had to be the "Belle of the Ball," because he's Lebron James, and that's what Lebron James does. He made incredulous demands to the franchise, and every step of the way, they bowed to the "King," in some twisted version of "Pretty Girl dates Regular Guy," in which the Regular Guy does everything he can in order to keep the Pretty Girl from leaving him. Turns out, the Pretty Girl left anyway. But not before ensuring that the Regular Guy was, for all intents and purposes, impotent for the forseeable future. It's one thing to break our hearts, but to do so to a fanbase that knows heartbreak better than anyone, and to also ensure that no improvements can be made, just seemed malicious. I doubt that it was; I don't think Lebron James thinks in that way, I think he just worries about himself, which I suppose is fine, but still sucks. But it definitely felt that way, and for that, I will never root for him again. I'm sure he'll get over it, but he's not getting any more of my money - no Lebron shoes for me, ever, no Lebron memorabilia at all, thanks, see ya, dick.
So, he was gone. In Miami. Whatever.
Wait, they're having a party? They haven't even played a fucking game yet!
And that's where the real hate started to build. Lebron James was always polarizing, but when he started celebrating with his new team before anything was won ("Not one, not two, not three..."), then lots of non-Cavs fans started to take notice. His dickish, immature attitude started to spread to his teammates. The things he said and did were amplified, because now everyone expected him to be great constantly, and to be the kind of guy MJ was - a killer on the court, and a perceived sweetheart off of it - but he wasn't. He was still just an immature kid who said and did stupid shit.
It's hard for me, and many other people, to follow a sport so closely and not start to get a feel for who the players we watch really are. I know a lot of people who watch basketball, but not like I do, and don't have the same feelings towards Lebron as I do. That's fine, but when you spend three to four hours a night watching basketball for eight months out of the year, and spend another hour or so reading about the league at large, you start to connect to certain players and dislike others. Lebron is certainly in the latter camp for me now, because, again, he's not on my team, and I dislike his actions. Nevermind the fact that he proved to be a sidekick and not a superduperstar - watch these Finals and tell me otherwise. You can't. You just can't. He started douchily tweeting about karma when the Cavs lost by 45 points to the Lakers, he started mocking other players, and he beat up on the bad teams while routinely laying eggs against the good ones.
He became a villain in the nation's eyes, even if he didn't see it himself. Then, it seemed like he was enjoying the villain role, which could have been cool for me as a sports fan, if I thought for a minute he could sustain it. Guys like Isiah Thomas are suited for the villain role, assholes who want to eat your heart for breakfast and just win. Lebron James wants to be an icon, a billionaire, so his heel turn is just another calculated move that backfired on him. As the playoffs began, he started talking about how he didn't care what people thought of him, and was going to let his play do the talking. That would have been fine if, y'know, he didn't fucking TALK ABOUT IT ALL THE DAMN TIME. If you watched closely enough, I swear you could see him trying to figure out why he is so hated. It would be sad if it weren't so pathetic. He is a man who is accustomed to being told he is great, whose image is so manicured that it's perfectly inauthentic to anyone who pays attention. Think Paris Hilton except a basketball player, and you're on the right track.
Then, I started to get hopeless. The Heat were literally destroying their opponents in the Playoffs. 76ers? Check. Celtics? I really wanted old-school ball to prevail, but it wasn't meant to be. Bulls? Too young and inexperienced... And Lebron manhandled them. The Mavericks were the last obstacle, and nobody believed they stood much chance against the might juggernaut of Lebron-Wade-Bosh. I picked the Mavs in seven games, more out of a sense of hatred towards the Heat than firm belief in the Mavs. But still, I felt if there was one team that could beat the Heat, it was the Mavs, because the Heat do such a tremendous job of packing the paint defensively, and are so good in the open court, but the Mavs don't score a lot in the paint, and have a great defense once they get set up.
Game Two is when I finally believed. Like, "Holy-shit-they-can-actually-win-this." Because the Mavs just didn't quit, they kept going. And the Heat, the immature, fickle bunch that they are, just get lost when they're not destroying their opponents.
It's like Mike Tyson used to say, "Everyone's got a plan until they get punched in the face." Fuck, that should be the epitaph for the Heat's 2010-2011 season, as they caved in as soon as the Mavs landed one on their proverbial kisser. Like real champions, the Mavs didn't expect to win; they knew they had to earn it. They knew they were the underdogs, and pushed themselves to prove everyone wrong. They wanted it more, plain and simple.
Which is quite telling when examining Lebron's career, especially this Finals series. When Lebron left Cleveland to go to Miami, it seemed to be an implicit confession that he did not want to earn it on his own. He wanted, like so many young, immature screwheads, to have greatness handed to him. He didn't want to work to be the best, he just wanted the spoils of being the best. What better way to do that than to join up with a couple of all-stars? You could tell, again, if you paid attention to the games and the player's body language, in Game Four that Lebron was screwed. He played a shitty game, but he looked disinterested, like he would rather be anywhere else in the world than in that pressure cooker of a situation. Again, this is fine for most people, but if you want to be the best player in the world, if you have "Chosen 1" tattooed across your back, and you refer to yourself as "King," well then you gotta want that. You gotta crave that, like Dirk did. You have to be able to handle the scrutiny, criticism, and difficulties of those situations if you want to be champion.
Dan Gilbert, the owner of the Cavs, tweeted shortly after the Finals ended, "There are NO SHORTCUTS. NONE." This will, inevitably, be blown out of proportion by the news sites with nothing better to do than to fluff Lebron's ego, but Gilbert gets it. Lebron just wanted a shortcut to the title, and he didn't get it. If he wants to be a champion, he has to play like one and earn it. Nobody, not even David Stern, is going to just hand him the trophy without earning it. He thought that by teaming up with Wade and Bosh, he would have it easy. Life on the beach. Playing with good friends. Winning championships. Nope. At least, not yet.
I'm not deluded enough into thinking that Lebron James won't ever win an NBA title. I pretty much expect them to next year, but I may be wrong - I hope I am, anyway. It's a bit of a shame, really, that the absolute best talent in the NBA has to be housed in a body with a brain like Lebron possesses. The guy in a riddle wrapped inside of a mystery wrapped inside a 26-year old manchild. He wants to have his cake, eat it, too, and not have to worry about baking it or cleaning up the mess in the kitchen (that analogy makes sense in my head). Maybe he'll grow up - he's still pretty young, after all - and grow into a real winner and he will actually win in the end.
That will actually be fine with me, because he didn't win this year.
He didn't leave Cleveland to win next year; he could have done that in Cleveland. He left to win now, and he failed. I've been vindicated, and I got to enjoy some amazing basketball in the process. It was an insanely exciting season to be a viewer of, and I am glad that the bad guys lost and the good guys won. It will only last a few months, sure, but the record books will always read, "2011 NBA Champions - Dallas Mavericks," and Lebron James still has as many championship rings as I do.
I'm going to type that one more time, because it just feels good: Lebron James still has as many championship rings as I do.
Yep
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