LeBron James: Why I'm Finally Ready to Forgive the Miami Heat Superstar

When LeBron James announced on national television last summer that he was taking his talents to South Beach to join the Miami Heat, I was extremely disappointed. I am not a fan of the Cleveland Cavaliers and I have never lived in the city of Cleveland.

I do, however, live in the city of Buffalo.

Living in the Rust Belt, I understand how much our sports teams mean to us. There is a markedly different vibe around the city on the day after a Bills or Sabres victory.

I assume the same is true in Cleveland.

The winters are long and cold, while the summers are hot and humid. Many years, it seems like the other two seasons are only figments of our imagination.

So when James drove a stake into the heart of Cleveland sports fans, it felt like I was hurt by association. I think a lot of it goes back to the summer of 2007 when Chris Drury turned his back on the Sabres, opting instead to sign with the more glamorous New York Rangers.

Following Drury out the door was Danny Briere, who had expressed interest in staying in Buffalo. He was turned off though, as management focused solely on Drury and lost out on both in the end.

What has followed is back-to-back playoff-less seasons and two First Round knockouts—coupled with a decade where the Bills have failed to make a playoff appearance—and it equals tough times in Buffalo.

Players leaving small market teams for the brighter lights of a big city is nothing new. In this age of huge endorsement deals and me-first sports stars though, the frequency of these moves seems to be on the rise.

When the player making the move is the best in the world and a local sports hero, however, the pain is immeasurable.

Although there were various reports that James would be announcing his move to Miami prior to the ESPN broadcast, the images of Cleveland sports fans immediately after he said the dreaded words proved they never thought he would leave. I know I never expected to lose both Drury and Briere.

Because of this, I have found myself rooting against James and the Heat all season. I knew what Cavs fans were feeling and it sucks.

Having come so close to ending your city's long championship drought, only to find yourself back at the drawing board, leaves you with a sense of hopelessness.

There are times, even as a 21-year-old like myself, where you wonder if you'll ever get to feel the elation of a hometown championship.

While watching the first game of the NBA Finals, something changed.

This wasn't the same James that couldn't deliver in the clutch with the Cavaliers. This wasn't the same James that was contained by the San Antonio Spurs in the 2007 NBA Finals.

This was a new James, a better James. This was a player that might finally deserve the moniker "King James". This was a player with the chance to become the best ever.

As he drove the lane with 2:48 left in the fourth quarter, got fouled, and threw down the biggest dunk of the night to put an exclamation point on the Game One victory, it clicked.

He didn't go to Miami because he was looking for more fame and popularity. It wasn't because he wanted bigger endorsements or because he wanted to enjoy the nightlife.

His decision wasn't based on LeBron James the brand, it was based on LeBron James the ultimate competitor.

His relentless work ethic is obvious. He can no longer be contained by finely-crafted defensive strategies that force him into jump shots.

James is uncontainable. The only hope an opposing defense has is that he is having an off night, because there isn't a player on this planet that can stop him anymore.

It's all because of those hundreds, if not thousands, of hours spent in the gym working on his game when the cameras weren't on. The man is a gym-rat with an immense knowledge of the game's history, and he wants to become the best to ever step on an NBA court.

He's well on his way.

In Cleveland, they may never forgive the man they once loved, and rightfully so.

For the rest of us though, who thought he was nothing more than a narcissistic, Michael Jordan wannabe, it's time to move on.

Although the sign in Cleveland no longer hangs, the statement holds true—we are all witnesses.

The time for bitterness is over; it is time to respect the best player in the game today.