Dear King James,
You've officially been chosen, and you deserve every bit of it. Should we really be surprised by anything you do anymore? After all, you are the one who's accepted our pressure and has had to adapt to our hate. Yet, you have risen above it to show us what it means to be a champion.
While there should be nothing but spite and frustration for the way you left Cleveland at the alter two years ago, sweating every moment, trying to read each movement, there's nothing but respect and appreciation for witnessing what you just did. We all knew you had it in you, it just took some self-reflection for you to see it yourself.
We often defended your weaknesses and insecurities that you never saw yourself. Then you left us, becoming the ex-girlfriend who showed up with your new man, rubbing it in our face that we didn't have you anymore. While we cursed you in front of our friends and family, we secretly admired from afar, knowing you truly were the one that got away.
Watching you hug the Larry O'Brien trophy tonight reminded us why the city of Cleveland fell in love with you to begin with. It wasn't for the highlights you gave us—though those didn't hurt— but it was for your true love of the game. It was the passion you spoke of on the podium tonight. It was you finally allowing yourself to be—well—yourself. Your childish enthusiasm ironically has led you to become a man. You admittedly got better as a person, and for that, we should all applaud your decision.
You got rid of the self-entitlement and narcissism, humbling yourself for the first time in your life. You weren't just saying it; you were living it. Experiencing it. Proving it.
And because of these changes, after the last drop of champagne has been drunk and the rest of us deal with our every day problems, you'll still be LeBron James. However, this time, you'll be NBA Champion LeBron James. It's about damn time.