At some point in the last few years, Lebron James fell from the grace by which he had been smothered, thrust amongst the ranks of the reviled in the NBA conscience. The events of last night climaxed that plunge and leave him forever etched in infamy.
The oddity of the circumstances is such that I find myself more conflicted than ever on the figure more polarizing than the very decision he took. I’m glad he left but I’m stunned by how he did it.
By no stretch can I find fault with the departure. I hoped he’d leave and salvage what he could from a career thus far soiled by mismanagement. To no one did he owe anything and the correct decision was made. Lebron had to leave and for that itself he should not incur our fury.
Yet it’s funny that instead, he’s a coward and a fraud, not fit for the repute his production has earned him. Ironic that Lebron fell from grace by choosing winning over money, the joy of friendship over fame. But of course he draws our ire because such course strays from sacred script.
Only in sports do we pathetically reach back to a medieval past, absurdly fetishizing ideals of alpha-supremacy and loyalty. Any divergence from this plot threatens our escapist urge and thrusts us into confusion. We can’t have our fairy-tale without a king in the castle.
We had a hero, wearing purple and gold, so we needed a villain. (We conveniently brush aside Bryant’s own trade demands because such admission wouldn’t fit too neatly into our narrative.) Lebron hinted at leaving and we had our bad guy.
But he made the right choice. Too many stars have stood idly to watch their bodies erode. He’ll be seen as Pippen, but he risked going down as Dominique. Wasn’t the hardware our metric? Strange that we shift the goal posts to fit our agenda when the ultimate sacrifice is made.
Yet what I still can’t believe is how it was done.
Even after the reports, I maintained a belief that he would stay, clinging to faith in basic benevolence. Surely he could not do what was being suggested – announce his departure before a televised audience? Surely he could not be so cruel.
I stared blankly, stunned, as the words tumbled from his mouth, proclaiming his arrival upon South Beath. What purpose did it serve to crush and embarrass a city in so public of a way?
What Lebron James did last night was unconsciously, unfathomably, one of the most cold-blooded, stupefying acts sports has ever seen. In leaving, he had already thrust the knife – was there any further reason to twist it within?
Last night, Lebron James took away my will to any longer defend him. He squandered what from his circumstances he had earned. He could have left quietly, allowing a city in suffering to preserve some last shred of dignity. Instead he made an event of the thing, adding undue insult to insurmountable injury.
Lebron had done no wrong and had had my unyielding support. He was right to leave and damn well entitled to it. But with his eventual sin, he validated the charges so many like me had refuted on his behalf for far too long.
Justly or not, Lebron James is now the villain, persona non grata in the public eye. He had every right to leave. But I’m still stunned by how he did it.
