LeBron James Is Finally Free
“There is a lot of pressure put on me, but I don’t put a lot of pressure on myself. I feel if I play my game, it will take care of itself.” –LeBron James, lying to us
Usually, when we hate on those who are especially talented or successful, we do so because we as a culture have decided they don’t deserve something they have. When people achieve fame, we like to think they do so based on merit—their talent, ability, charisma, etc.—and when celebrities or public figures don’t earn that merit in our eyes, it becomes trendy and, let’s be honest, fun to jump on the dogpile. This is an easy sort of celebrity hate. It’s fun to talk about. You don’t feel bad about it.
But it was never fun to hate LeBron James. It was exhausting. It was aggravating. It was difficult. Now that he won a championship in Cleveland, thank goodness we don’t have to hate him anymore. Thank goodness LeBron has finally (finally! finally!) lived up to his expectations. We don’t have to call him a choker anymore. We don’t have to question his legacy anymore. We can just take a breath. Finally.
It was never fun for LeBron James to be hated, either. It must have been exhausting. It must have been aggravating and difficult. LeBron knows he’s finally (again—finally! finally!) lived up to his expectations. LeBron doesn’t have to trouble over his clutchness anymore. He doesn’t have to question his legacy anymore. He can just take a breath and play basketball. Finally.
The problem with LeBron from Day One was that he would always be compared to someone else, and that was unfair. He’d be better than Michael Jordan. He’d be more fluid than Magic Johnson. He’d dominate everyone in his draft class. He’d rule all others in the National Basketball Association. He was never allowed to define who LeBron would be for himself, because all the talking heads and scorching-take sportswriters did that for him. To his credit, it must have been a nightmare to endure. Against his credit, he endured it horribly.
Until the Cavaliers toppled the Golden State Warriors in the NBA Finals last June, LeBron always came across, ironically, as one of the most insecure public figures in America. Everything he did, on the court and off the court, came across as absolutely obsessed over, and it was always a little uncomfortable. Obviously, the Decision is the most prominent exhibit, but even little things like tearing the sleeves off his jersey mid-game or posting passive-aggressive Instagrams seemed so crafted. Instead of the Jordan-esque Can you believe this guy?! exclamations we had prepped, all we ended up with was a collective facepalm: Can you believe this guy?
It really sucked to feel that way. Remember how much we wanted to celebrate LeBron? Remember the magazine covers and the national TV coverage and the hype trains and the high school highlight reels? The NBA couldn’t wait for LeBron to arrive, and fans couldn’t either! He was going to change basketball! He was going to be the defining athlete of the millennium! The Greatest of All Time would belong to the modern era! Yes!
Then LeBron wasn’t quite that. He was close, and tried really, really hard to be all of those things, but he wasn’t, and then we retroactively saw all those labels and all that promotion as undeserved, so we pounced. We ripped LeBron. We tore him apart. After his desperation “Love me!” cry on the way to Miami, we cast him as the villain of modern sports, and we publicly regretted everything we said about him before. It was ugly and painful and—face it—two championships didn’t really make a difference. LeBron had something and we decided he didn’t deserve it. Game over.
Deep down, though, we still wanted LeBron to be that guy for us, and that made hating him a terrible experience. The LeBron-or-MJ debates were petty and wearying. The jersey-burning was a little WTF-y. The nicknames (LeBrick, LeBum, LeBenedict) were pathetic and exasperating. Hating on LeBron was popular, but it still wasn’t cool. It feels like everyone just wished it could have been different. LeBron might have betrayed Cleveland, but his biggest crime was betraying our expectations. How could he do that? (How could he not?)
It took thirteen seasons. It took a second coming. It took the greatest Finals performance anyone had ever seen. The Warriors didn’t lose the Finals. LeBron won it. He was the player we’d always hoped for, giving us the performance we always knew he could give. It was a masterpiece from one of basketball’s most troubled, tumultuous, and tormented artists, and it became the defining moment in a career that, for all of its statistical excellence, had more highs and lows than any other superstar. There is no other option now: LeBron James is one of the best basketball players we have ever seen. We’re free from the doubts, free from the hate. Now we can sit back and enjoy his liberation.
More importantly, though, LeBron is now free from us, and that makes this upcoming NBA season so joyful and anticipated and exciting. LeBron’s insecurities have cast a shadow over every NBA season since 2003. If you caught him for even a moment in almost any important game, the questions were written all over his face: Am I good enough yet? Will you love me after this? Have I won enough? Am I as good as Jordan? Do I have to be? Now, all of that is gone. Those questions, one way or another, are answered. LeBron can be secure in his legacy and secure in his identity as one of the most important and influential sportsman in the modern era.
No more annoying Twitter philosophies. No more cryptic photos. No more pleading PR moves. Just a great basketball player playing basketball. What a concept. What a feeling. LeBron is finally free. To end with his words again:
It's about damn time.