
Miami Fans Should Take High Road as LeBron James Returns—Be Better, Not Bitter
MIAMI — The stage is set in South Florida again, not because the Heat's recent home performances warrant the spotlight, but because the stage goes where LeBron James does, firmly under his size-15 feet.
This reality doesn't always allow for an abundance of humility, no matter how hard James tries. Following a win against the overmatched Minnesota Timberwolves, the Cleveland Cavaliers forward was asked why he'd called the league "smart" for so frequently sending him away for Christmas, including four of the past five. "When I go on the road, most of the times, it's sellouts," he explained with a smile. "So it's smart by the NBA. It's the easiest [way] I can put it."
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This won't be the easiest of those Christmas contests, and it has nothing to do with a Heat squad that just squandered a 23-point lead to the squalid 76ers and will likely be missing Chris Bosh (calf) again. Rather, it's because some in sold-out AmericanAirlines Arena hold the belief that James sold out South Florida during the most recent offseason, not just by leaving for Cleveland after four years but by seeming to leave Pat Riley in the lurch.
But here's hoping that the spectators take heed of the examples set by those who, financially and professionally, lost much more due to James' latest career decision.
The organization will set aside its sore feelings for at least 60 seconds, the length of a tribute video cramming together some of the countless highlights from his four seasons; it will air a second in honor of another offseason defector to Cleveland, James Jones. Meanwhile, the few Heat players remaining from James' Miami tenure will undoubtedly greet him as warmly as they did prior to October's exhibition in Brazil.
James' forever-friend Dwyane Wade recently told Bleacher Report and ESPN.com he hopes "our fans are just appreciative" of what James gave them, while recognizing their right to boo him like any other rival after tipoff.
If the fans are inhospitable in-game, that would be natural, normal. That would be basketball. That wouldn't be so different from what James encountered while he toured the nation during his first season with the Heat, enduring a torrent of boos each time he touched the ball, even in places like Portland, Memphis and Sacramento that seemingly had no logical claim to any anger. The King never teased the Kings in free agency, after all.
But the reaction Thursday shouldn't be remotely similar to what James encountered on Dec. 2, 2010, when the scorned Cavaliers fans inside Quicken Loans Arena unleashed vitriol previously unheard in modern North American professional sports and, frankly, inconsistent with civilized society.
It would be unbecoming for Heat fans to do anything approaching the same.
Bitterness simply doesn't befit South Florida, too blessed with sun and sand and surf, too widely envied for its embarrassment of riches for any lingering hostility to truly be taken seriously.
So the planet's premier basketball player doesn't play there anymore.
South Florida was always, and still is, about so much more than that. If you aren't sure, step outside.
So don't be bitter.
Be better.
Be better because it's the better of the two alternatives, in terms of the likely national media and public perception. For four years, Heat fans were mocked for not caring enough, for arriving late and leaving early, and also for caring too much, portrayed as bandwagon-jumpers just because James was around. And so, no, they won't get credit for whatever course they choose Thursday: jeer James and get called ungrateful, hail him and be belittled as blase.
Still, it is far better to do the latter, largely because, when all is taken into account, that's really what this return deserves.
The occasion calls for appreciation over anger.
Appreciation is appropriate even if you feel aggrieved by the lack of acknowledgement in his "Coming Home" essay, after defending him from incessant attacks from all the blowhards who, without the slightest self-awareness, have recently reversed course.
Appreciation is appropriate if for no other reason than the choice James made back in 2010, when he picked your team and your city over 29 others, all of which wished they were so lucky.
The safest play then was staying in Cleveland, safer for sure than making himself the scourge of sports society. But he also could have placated many of the media pundits if he'd merely picked anywhere but Miami, and specifically a more traditional major-market basketball city such as New York, Chicago or Los Angeles. Instead, he made Miami matter, in major professional sports, more than ever before.

Appreciation is appropriate even if you believe he could have communicated more clearly during free agency with Riley and Micky Arison, allowing them to recover quicker. Most job changes are awkward; certainly, he's not the first employee to fray the feelings of a former employer, nor the first to do so twice.
And any missteps over the past few months couldn't begin to mean more than all the sweat he spilled for South Florida over the past four seasons and postseasons, two of which ended in parades. The fanbase, with just one blip—the 2011 NBA Finals—got the absolute best that he could offer, during his late 20s, which are typically an athlete's prime years.
It got the best show in sports. It got the eyes and ears of the world. It got the fun, so much fun, whether he was burying Jason Terry with a slam or burying the critics with a championship; more fun than James' first seven seasons in Cleveland by far; and much more fun than the first two months of his second Cavaliers stint, because he's now less polarizing, his collective teammates have less collective personality and the storyline—trying to win a first championship for Cleveland but a third for himself—has less pizzazz.
There's still plenty of fun to be had in Miami, at any moment of any day. It just hasn't been had on an NBA court of late, not with the Heat scuffling at 13-16, now in the NBA's shadows. The fun may not return for real until, or unless, Riley lands a big star in 2016. But none will be bigger than James was in 2010, just as none of James' future returns—including one on March 16—will create as many conflicting emotions.
There's no one, anywhere, who understands all of these dynamics better than James Jones, not only as James' friend and teammate, but as a native South Floridian, someone who attended American High and the University of Miami, someone who has given more to the area through his charitable endeavors than he could ever give from behind the arc, someone whose connection is deeper than Akron-raised LeBron James' could have ever been here. Jones chose not to stay with the Heat when told he had little chance to compete for minutes, and that would have been fine with many had he not taken the additional step of following James to Cleveland.
He reflected on that, and everything else, to Bleacher Report on Tuesday.
"The most satisfying part of my career and my life was spent in a Miami Heat jersey," Jones said. "I'll never leave Miami. For me, this is my profession. This is a means to provide for my family. But Miami will always be home for me. When the season's over, I'll be right back in my neighborhood with my kids, with the foster kids that I work with, with the University of Miami, doing all those things. That never changes. That's a part of my life. Miami has given me too much. ... Being home, and staying home for good, is my goal, my No. 1 goal."
And when he's there, in future years, he will hear plenty of talk about those teams, the ones that had the ups and downs, the ones that included many of the players—Wade, Bosh, Mario Chalmers, Norris Cole and others—he still speaks to, the ones who experienced something he calls "extremely unique."
"That's the beauty of that situation," Jones said. "That's why when you bring up that era, in NBA basketball, there's so emotion. That's why it was so polarizing at the time. Because it was something that people hadn't seen before, and it was something that only a select few guys could handle. And Dwyane, LeBron and CB, in my eyes—and I guess this is just me personally speaking because I know them—I think they were the only three NBA guys equipped to be able to carry a load and be able to make that dynamic work. ... I don't think anyone that can duplicate it, replicate it, or that guys would really be as willing to accept the sacrifices that it takes to make that work that quickly."
That is why he agreed with this writer's assessment that it would be a shame if there's any lingering bitterness, on any party, from executive to player to fan.

"Right," Jones said. "I mean, like I said, you have to invest and pour every ounce of emotion and will into a situation like that, into that pressure cooker, in order to make it work. And so, whenever the pieces stray or whenever it's broken up, or whenever you move in another direction, it will be painful, but it won't be bitter.
"I think we all feel the pain of moving on and being detached from an organization, from an environment, from our teammates, from our family, it's painful. But it's not bitter. Because at the end of the day, we all understood the reason we came together, and the reason we make our decisions, is first and foremost for our families and personally, for ourselves. And after you've sacrificed as much as we collectively had, we all understand and know that every player has a right to choose the path that they want to take."
And so, yes, Jones and James earned the tributes they will receive Thursday for their six and four seasons, respectively.
James insisted Tuesday that he hadn't thought about the reception specifically but conceded that he "would be lying" to suggest that he hadn't thought at all about going back. He said it would be "great to be back in that building, around those unbelievable fans," that last part of praise not satisfying Heat fans on social media, who would have preferred he acknowledge them sooner. He said he anticipated that "the memories will definitely come back, being part of the organization for the four years I was there."
But he also stated the obvious, that it wouldn't be the same returning to face the Cavaliers on Dec. 2, 2010.
How could it?
"Growing up (in the Cleveland area), being here for 25 years, how emotionally tied I am with the people," James said. "They watched me grow...to who I was when I first left. So the emotional side, it's totally different from going back to Miami. I think, emotionally, that aspect, I'll just relive a lot of moments with my teammates, and what we were able to accomplish in those four years. So in that sense, it's different."
Nor did he expect his teammates to be as emotionally engaged, on his behalf, as the Heat were on that historic, hate-filled evening in Cleveland, when they routed the Cavaliers, 118-90.

"We came back here, it was just us," James recalled from the home locker room at Quicken Loans Arena. "You know, we knew that. We knew coming back here, it was just us. And for us [the Cavs this season], our goals are different at this point right now. We have to continue to get better. We're so behind so many other teams, just because of our chemistry and our camaraderie. We can't just put too much into one game. We understand that it's Christmas Day, it's a big day for the NBA and all of that, but we've just got to win and move on."
With the world once again watching, Heat fans can't win this Christmas, regardless of whether their team wins on the court.
They can't win whether they cheer, boo or do a bit of both.
But the only thing they can't afford to lose is perspective. The years were too unique. The memories are too special. Better not to be bitter.
Ethan Skolnick covers the NBA for Bleacher Report.






