Being from Ohio, one would assume that I became a fan of the Cavaliers when LeBron came to town. But seeing as how I already had a team put on a damper of me transferring to the Cavaliers. As a rabid NBA fan I did appreciate the talents that James brought to the table and enjoyed watching him on a nightly basis on Fox Sports Ohio.
Now and I no longer witness the crowned king on a nightly basis, just on nights when I get to watch him dismantle his old team on national TV. Living in Ohio means you either despise the man or you have a strong admiration for him. For me, I allow myself to see him in both of these lights. Here’s how my love and hate for LeBron James goes.
The love I have for LBJ rests in my heart and soul. This love does not resonate based on the type of person he is, rather the type of NBA player he is. LeBron has the type of skills and abilities that I think he even hasn't tapped into yet. If you watch him enough it seems as if the game is in slow motion at times. He is just an incredible talent to enjoy watching every time he steps on the floor. He is built like a freight train, moves like a cheetah on the prowl and finds a way to hit the most unorthodox shots at the most critical times.
My favorite NBA moment with him was his “48 Special”, where he went into extreme F-you mode and decapitated what was left of an aging Pistons team in the playoffs. That game, along with any other ones he plays in, keeps my heart yearning to watch LeBron James as an NBA player. Whether it is for the Heat or whoever, that man was put on this Earth to play basketball and I will continue to relish the opportunity to bask in his talents every chance I get (without anyone knowing so).
What Should I Do?
The next step in this process is showing my hate or distaste for James on the outside of my body. Everywhere I go I run into people who still proudly display their Cleveland Cavaliers attire. Since I love any conversation about basketball, I attempt to talk to these so called Cavaliers lifers. Every chat turns to the sour subject of LeBron, where I get to proudly put out my imagination hate on full display. I turn to every trick in the book, throwing out words like coward, traitor or Queen James as easy as Tim Lincecum throws a fastball.
Pretending to hate James in Ohio is easy and every person I know except my brother despises the man. I can’t say I blame them because as they see it he turned his back on them as soon as he had the chance. But as soon as I question these fans about the pre-LBJ era, these same haters get the same puzzled look on their face like a deer in the headlights.
My love and hate for LeBron James can only reach a certain level before I reach the point of no return. So the question is: What should I do? Should I be who people in Ohio want me to be? Or should I bask in the glory of the best basketball player alive today? I guess the answer depends on who the basketball gods put before me the next time the King, or Queen, comes up.