LeBron James Must Dominate in Order to Rid Himself of His Personal Demons

In all likelihood, nobody in the NBA is happier than LeBron James to be hitting the court once again.

As if being the laughingstock of the league wasn't going to make this a long enough offseason, the basketball gods further conspired to make this the most prolonged offseason of LeBron's career.

While he no doubt had ample time to sort out the wreckage in his head following what he called the lowest week of his life, a total exorcism of his personal demons could not possibly happen without actually playing some hoops.

Which is why, after six presumably torturous months of hearing he isn't in fact the greatest thing since alternating current, LeBron is sure to be champing at the bit to return to the one place where the world makes sense: the court.

Heck, by now, the bit is in pieces, halfway down his throat...

LeBron needs to go out and do a few things of varying difficulty. First, he needs to go out from day one and remind everyone why he was so feared in the first place. Not that we've forgotten, but the real test comes much later, and in the meantime, he needs to give people zero additional reasons to doubt him.

Before building his Finals rep, he has five months of incessant chatter in store for him, and there's  bound to be some chuckles mingled in there. What better way to stop the laughing than to start the trembling?

Now, I wish I could say I think LeBron is smart enough to know he'll never shed the villain label, but that's the same part of me talking that once said he was smart enough to understand the repercussions of his move to South Beach. That part of me evidently gives him too much credit.

He may never be the darling he once was, but as far as repairing his immediate legacy, he simply needs to be his usual unbelievable self, at all times. By that I don't mean get 40, 9 and 9 every night, but simply to stop worrying about looking bad.

Among the key lessons Heat fans hope he's learned—or will have by the time it counts—is that when the entire season is on the line, "being a facilitator" does not excuse him from the weight of being Option No. 1.

If this team miraculously goes down again in this year's playoffs, LeBron must simply continue doing his thing the way he knows he can. Basically instead of game tape, he needs to pop in Titanic and watch the band, the one that keeps playing while the bloody ship is sinking in the Atlantic.

"Being a facilitator"—which, by the way, I am putting in quotes when referring to the excuse, as opposed to the general act—is merely a subtle tactic to feign leadership while deflecting the blame for missed shots and lost games. This certainly fits LeBron's general affinity for denying responsibility.

The would-be king needs to realize that swallowing a big loss will not cripple his awe-inspiring image. People have watched Michael, Magic, Kobe and so many other fail; it's not the end of the world. He needs to lose this reluctance to step up and welcome the doubt in the big moments.

If the moment doesn't go his way, he needs to know that he can save 89.4 percent more face as long as he does one thing...

Go. Down. Swinging.

That's literally all he has left to prove: that he's at peace enough with his own mortality as an athlete to face the odds of losing head-on. And while we're at it, learn to play through frustration—assuming he runs into any on Miami's little title romp.

Of course, his stature demands the usual incredible numbers and production on the way to the big dance, but if we've learned anything from eight years of...LeBrony-ness (why not), it's that the numbers should come in bunches.

Perhaps along the way, he could show us what, if anything, he's learned from The Dream. A game winner here and there couldn't hurt, just random displays of clutchness (now that has to be a word) to remind people that he's perfectly clutch when he actually shows up.

If, however, LeBron doesn't generally play up to his standards (i.e., dominant), then the demons will multiply rapidly. People will only be given further evidence with which to say he's haunted by the loss, the same way Nick Anderson's free-throw percentage was never, ever the same after that 0-4 killer in the 1995 Finals...

The last thing he needs is more flies to shoo away, and subpar production would be like being covered in molasses, but call me crazy, I don't think that's going to be an issue.

Either way, LeBron's legacy is so completely defined by his mad chase for a ring that regular season numbers are all but moot compared to how he does in the final act.

In short, the checklist for personal exorcism goes:

1) be yourself on the court,

2) don't let your production drop, 

3) put the fear of God back in the opposition,

4) once in the Finals again, go all out regardless of outcome,

and remember: in war, those who fear death are surely doomed.

Game on... let's see how well he recovers.