I can’t remember a contrived, ego-centric, breathlessly-promoted, self-serving, self-destructive, polarizing, narcissistic love-fest I’ve watched recently that ticked me off more than what ESPN aired last night with The Diss, oh, excuse me, The Decision
Lets get to the highlights of what I guarantee you will turn out to be the worst career decision LeBron James has ever made.
Trust me, this is going to end up an unmitigated disaster for Mr. James that is going downgrade his imperial status from King to Sidekick.
I don’t know about you, but I prefer my larger-than-life iconic superstars to be the top dog on their own team, not a 2010 version of what would happen if Scottie Pippen, (co-star) Clyde Drexler, (supporting character) Dick Cheney (second banana) and Abraham Lincoln (similar facial hair to what LeBron sported) were morphed into a 260 pound dunking machine with a bad beard. I have news for you LeBron, before 8:28 Central last night you were the face of a franchise, a league, and a city, now you are nothing more than a bit player on a freak show. And I don’t believe you were comfortable making that decision. You looked more nervous than Rosie O’Donnell at a Laker Girls tryout, and in case none of your boys from high school you’ve hired as your glorified go-fers have informed you, the Miami Heat don’t play in South Beach. When you finally announced what we all had tuned into The Diss for, you know, which team you’d play for next year, you seemed timid, confused, disappointed and ashamed; or in other words, how a typical Packers fan feels when he’s changing in front of a mirror.
And by saying “I’m taking my talents to South Beach”, to me means only one thing—you’re more excited about the possibilities of the nighlife and eclectic, electric, pulse-pumping party scene than you are about building a dynasty.
Hey, don’t get me wrong, I believe that LeBron has earned the right to make any decision he wants, and I hate to break it to you city of Cleveland, but you don’t own LeBron James any more than you own Drew Carrey. Were you burning dark horn-rimmed glasses in the streets when he left the local comedy circuit to take a sitcom in Hollywood? I mean this with absolutely no offense Cleveland, but your city is identified by losing. It doesn’t mean you are losers, but it does mean you wallow in not winning, and it is as much of your persona as New Yorkers are known for brashness. For some reason you believe you are cursed or jinxed and frankly I don’t know how you would handle bona fide sports success and I’m beginning to believe you’ll never have to worry about it.
In time, I will address the response Cleveland Cavaliers owner Dan Gilbert issues to LeBron leaving his team via his message on the team’s website on a later date, but suffice it to say Lindsay Lohan showed more class and dignity in the courtroom this week than Gilbert did with his pathetic response.
Bottom line, I’m bummed out. I was in the Chicago Bulls locker room after almost every game the Bulls played during their second three-peat in the mid to late 90’s. I saw in person every day, how a true larger-than-life icon handles business on and off the court. In my mind, I wanted LeBron to become that, and I really think he could have if he stayed in Cleveland or went to the Knicks. But LeBron got seduced. Not by Pat Riley, or the Heat Franchise or the thought of winning multiple titles. (you think he’d be joining Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh if they played for Oklahoma City?) He’s being pulled to South Florida because of the weather, lifestyle, lack of state income tax and the safety of not having to be The Man. When you fancy yourself as “The Chosen One”, you usually don’t enlist co-stars to help you fight your battles. You lead the charge. And the saddest thing about last night is the aura of LeBron James I think is without question different, certainly minimized, and quite possibly almost over. And that’s what bums me out the most.