July 9, 2010

• Sports used to be so simple. You played the game and sometimes you won, sometimes you lost, but you got paid fairly handsomely for it and maybe you gave an interview afterwards. Sometimes you’d even look at Hannah Storm and think to yourself, “gosh, that is one tight sausage” before accidentally blurting it out. Sure, no one would laugh with you right then and there in public but you can bet your smooth baby bottom ass we were going to high five the shit out of you later. We might even chuckle about it years later when we reminisce about how “that time Hannah Storm interviewed you and you SERVED HER ASS!”

  Yesterday, “The Decision” was a mockery of the sports world that I hold so dear. You just knew that they were going to milk every possible hour out of that; as if they had a bet with television networks on the over/under that they’d get on ratings. Instead it was 27 minutes of the King in the third person… followed by a whopping ten seconds of a mangled sentence (“This fall — man, this is very tough — um, this fall I’m going to take my talents to South Beach and join the Miami Heat”). Then another half hour circus shit to rub it in the faces of all the teams that didn’t get him and weren’t even notified they were losers.

  It was like waiting half an hour to see this amazingly beautiful girl after you’ve been hearing how easily accessible she was. After a few weeks of minimal contact, at long last you get the opportunity to meet her. Only when you get there… she drills a bare knuckled fist not unlike Clubber Lang into the side of your temple. To add insult to injury, she taunts you for another half hour while you clutch your face… lying on the ground.  Yeah, she’s pretty… but it’s still going to hurt. That’s what the whole ordeal reminded me of.

  

  I don’t have a problem with his choice, it was logical if all he cared about was winning – the team he joined gave him the best chance. What bothers me was this grand spectacle about an announcement that was as short as Michael Jordan unceremoniously faxing “I’m back.” Jordan at least had as many rings as letters in his fax – Lebron has won as many rings as you and me – Zilch. I don’t blame him for leaving though, he gave Cleveland seven amazing years and his reward was free agency, the right to go wherever he wanted. However I do blame him for essentially lying to us. I bet The Decision was made as early as when Kevin Garnett and the Celtics robbed King James at the Quicken Loans Arena of his chance at cementing his legacy. Perhaps The Decision was made as late as last week, when Wade and Bosh verbally committed to Miami. It certainly wasn’t the BS of “I came to The Decision this morning” crap he was feeding us.

  If the king gets his ring, then maybe all will be forgotten, especially this botched exercise at marketing and attempting to grow his brand. Until the next time he hits free agency, hopefully his next decision won’t be like The Decision. Which was a lot like waking up next to someone you don’t remember after a heavy night of drinking and The Decision is replaced by two words.

  The Mistake.

  • 8:02 am
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