I became a pseudo Heat fan during the Heat-Pacers series when I found myself really going for the Heat when I watched the playoffs...so I just gave in and told people 'yes' I'm a Heat fan (at the expense of looking like a bandwagon fan)...but I found out the only reason I was a Heat fan was because I was rooting for LeBron James 100%...if LBJ wasn't on the Heat I would have watched the Heat play en route to the Finals like they did in '06 (in actuality they probably wouldn't even be on a championship run if LBJ wasn't on the team) simply as a basketball fan...
I never understood how people began to hate (media and fans) LBJ like he was the anti-christ all because of one decision he decided to publicize on ESPN...Seriously!!!??!! All this hate because he wanted to leave the lowly Cleveland Cavs where they never gave him a substantial no. 2 player to support him, he carried the team to a Finals appearance and 2 consecutive 60+ win seasons...With that said I began to like LBJ even more because everybody had something to criticize him for when he was and is the best player in the league...Since he finally won the title you now start to see the tide change about people's opinions of the 'Chosen One'...read this good article titled 'Lebron Makes LeLeap' by Bill Simmons that nicely talks about LBJ's championship run...(heads up, its a long but good read)
--------------------------------------
LeBron Makes LeLeap
Sitting in awe courtside while King James finally figured it
all out
By Bill Simmons
You know what saddens me? The funniest clip on YouTube is no
longer funny. Yep, you can finally rest in peace, "The Heat Welcome
Party" video. Thanks for giving us two sterling years atop the Internet
comedy rankings. We're replacing you with a bullpen by committee of old
reliables like "I Like Turtles," "Charlie Bit Me," the
"It's Still Real to Me, Dammit" guy, Journey's immortal "Separate Ways Miami
Let's hope you don't resurface as something else — something
scarier, something more ominous, something on the level of Namath guaranteeing
Super Bowl III or Ali promising to defeat Liston. See, the ceiling of "The
Heat Welcome Party" slowly changed during the last two games of the 2012
Finals. It's no longer about hubris or a suffocating lack of self-awareness. It
might be more of an omen, a warning, a little like the Game of Thrones
characters seeing a red comet streak across the sky and saying, Uh-oh, dragons
are coming. I mention this only because, like every other non-Miami fan who
attended the last two home games, I left that arena muttering to myself,
"sh-t … he finally figured it out."
Suddenly "Not one, not two, not three … " doesn't
sound so far-fetched. Unless his body betrays him, it's hard to imagine LeBron
not using the 2012 playoffs as a launching pad for the next stage of his career
… you know, when he starts collecting trophies and climbing up that imaginary
historical ladder. We remember NBA stars three different ways: by the entirety
of their career, their career's highest peak, and the duration of that peak.
Something like 25 players had genuinely great careers, but only seven played at
the all-around level that LeBron achieved these past few weeks. Jordan
LeBron spent the last nine years juggling various identities
— a little Jordan, a little Magic, a little ABA Doc, a little Pippen — never
revealing that HE knew what he wanted to be. Even his position was amorphous.
Was he a power forward? A small forward? An oversize point guard? What the hell
was he? By the end of the 2012 Finals, we had our answer: He's LeBron James.
First of a kind. A power point guard who can create his own shot from the
perimeter and the low post, a devastating passer who can't be double-teamed, a
superior athlete who attacks the rim whenever he wants, an unfathomably durable
workhorse on both ends, someone who can defend all five positions (yes, five)
at an elite level.
Over everything else, he fully married his physical gifts
with his basketball I.Q. and morphed into something of a basketball monster.
Remember all those times when we wondered, Why doesn't LeBron just take it to
the rack — it seems like he could score whenever he wants? Yup, pretty much. A
good example of LeBron's physical dominance this spring: Late in Game 4, when
LeBron started limping and finally toppled to the floor, everyone in the arena
had the same reaction. Wait, LeBron can get hurt? LeBron feels pain? It was
like seeing Michael Myers keel over. When he was carried off, the crowd audibly
gasped in disbelief. They're carrying him off? They're carrying LeBron off? I
assumed that he belatedly realized he'd blown out his knee because, you know,
he's a fu-king cyborg. As it turned out, he only had cramps. Even that seemed
kind of amazing. LeBron James gets cramps? LeBron James needs to drink water?
So yeah, everything starts with that remarkable body. If you
were creating a basketball player in a science lab, you would create the guy we
just watched these past five weeks. When was the last time an NBA player made
you say, "Come on, that's not fair"? Maybe Shaq during those three
Finals when he kept overpowering the Pacers, Sixers and Nets? That's how LeBron
made Celtics fans feel during Game 6's cold-blooded scoring barrage, and that's
how he made Oklahoma City
In Game 4, Miami
You know what was really scary? I didn't even think he
played that well. Game 6 against Boston Oklahoma City Miami Miami Miami
In the postgame presser, he mentioned being happy it played
out the way it did, that he needed to "hit rock-bottom" before he
could become the player he needed to be. I don't believe this for two reasons.
First, his jaw-dropping performance in the 2009 playoffs (35.3 PPG, 7.3 APG,
9.1 RPG, .510 FG) strongly hinted that this 2012 bloodbath (30.3 PPG, 9.3 RPG,
5.6 APG, the first player ever to average a 30-9-5 twice in the postseason) was
coming. His evolution was always headed this way; we just got delayed (and
nearly derailed) by 2010's meltdown in the Boston series, then "The
Decision," then everything from last year. Second, I can't imagine LeBron
would ever repeat the last 23 months. There had to be better ways to get there.
During last night's interviews, we kept hearing the same wistful refrain from
LeBron, his teammates and even his coach. The last two years weren't fun.
Wearing that big bull's-eye and the black cowboy hat wasn't fun. Being booed
wasn't fun, being picked apart wasn't fun, being maligned wasn't fun. They
spent last season battling the collective vitriol, figuring out how to use it
to their advantage … and ultimately failing.
As LeBron admitted last night, it just wasn't him. He wasn't
meant to be someone who dunked on opponents and stared defiantly into the
stands like a wrestling heel. He lost himself in the process, spent the summer
remembering why he liked basketball, rededicated himself, found that same joy …
and the rest was history. Even if that sounds like a sweet plot for a sports
movie, I'm not buying that LeBron needed that specific sequence to achieve his
manifest destiny. Sports would have taken care of that for him. You keep losing
the title, you keep going back to the drawing board, you keep trying to get
better. Wilt wanted to get past the Celtics. Bird wanted to get past the
Sixers. Magic wanted to get past the Celtics. Jordan
So what actually changed? For one thing, Dwyane Wade injured
his knee and became 70 Percent Of Dwyane Wade, inadvertently solving the
"dueling banjos" dilemma. The Heat tried to thwart six decades of NBA
history by teaming two alpha dogs together, making them equals and assuming
their overwhelming talent would overcome any resulting bumpiness. They were
wrong. Basketball doesn't work that way, for the same reason you don't need two
transcendent lead guitarists for a rock band. Someone had to learn bass. It
ended up being Wade, and only because fate intervened. We'll remember Game 6 of
the Boston
From that moment forward, Dwyane Wade became a glorified
sidekick. Everything Miami Oklahoma City
And that's only scratching the surface. Imagine you're Wade.
Imagine you talk Bosh and LeBron into joining YOUR team and living in YOUR
city. Imagine that first year going to hell. Imagine coming to the begrudging
realization that you're only going as far as LeBron takes you, that — even
though it's your city, and you're the one who gets introduced last at every home
game — you're going to have to wear the Robin costume. By Game 2 of the Finals,
everyone is wondering whether you're the same guy you used to be; meanwhile,
you've never had to take a backseat on a basketball court before, and that's
what is screwing you up more than anything. By Game 5, you're listening to your
fans serenade LeBron with "M-V-P!" chants as he holds two trophies
like a hunter holding a couple of deer heads. You're standing on the side, just
like Shaq six years ago. Maybe that's what he meant by "difficult."
Just know the situation was resolved organically, much like
it was during the 2008 Olympics, when Spain
was closing in and Kobe Miami
The other twist of fate: Derrick Rose wrecked his knee in
Round 1, propelling the Celtics into the Conference Finals … you know, LeBron's
nemesis, the bullies who beat him in 2008 and 2010, the grizzled veterans who
were convinced that LeBron would always cave when it mattered most. Garnett and
Pierce loved pushing his buttons more than anyone. During their final regular-season
road trip to Miami
In retrospect, they pushed him too far. The Celtics regarded
LeBron with a surprising amount of disdain — that's why Rondo angrily yelped,
"Let's go!" before defending LeBron's final drive of regulation in
Game 2. LeBron ended up settling for a 21-footer against someone seven inches
shorter than him, followed by Rondo strutting back to the huddle and probably
telling his teammates, "I knew he didn't have the balls to come at
me." They spent that whole series challenging his manhood; by the end of
Game 5, they thought they had broken him. Was that what turned him into a
serial killer in Game 6? Not entirely … but it definitely helped. I just don't
think LeBron makes LeLeap without the bullies from Boston
-------------------------
holla,
(4o)ur
