LeBron and the Lost Age of Heroes
July 09, 2010, By Craig J. Heimbuch 4 comments
Last night, LeBron James proved what a global and modern athlete he is by packing up his gym bag and abandoning his hometown, which also happens to be my hometown. It was his right. He has earned the opportunity to play wherever he wants, to go where he thinks he can win - never mind that Cleveland has had the best record in the NBA the last two seasons- and to, basically, do whatever he wants to do.
The problem is the way in which he did it.
I had high hopes, guarded, but high when he announced he would be making his decision on live TV, in front on a national audience during an unprecedented hour-long ESPN special. My hope was that he was going to do something amazing, go on TV and talk to the world about loyalty and his desire to continue his agent-of-change mission in Cleveland, to bring hope to a downtrodden town that has unified behind his play and the resurgence of his team. I had hopes for all of that and they were summarily dash in an embarrassing - no, mean-spirited - display of ego and self-righteousness.
The worst part? I made the mistake of watching "The Decision" with my nearly six year-old son.
Jack is a smart little boy. He always has been. And he loves watching the Cavs with me and mom. Every time a basketball highlight came on Sports Center, his head would snap to the screen and he would ask "Is that LeBron?" Some times it was. Some times it wasn't. But at all times he was eager to see and I felt good for having something to show him. I felt good in the same way my dad did when he used to tell me about his sports heroes Stan Musial and Bullet Bob Gibson. Not that we have ever considered athletes to be heroes, don't mistake my intention there. No, I was taught from an early age that sports are fun and entertaining. I witnessed how engaging the drama of pressure scenarios can be for a spectator and, because I'm from Cleveland, learned to cherish the pain of near-victories and dashed expectations.
But there was something my dad admired about his childhood heroes that went beyond the field. He seemed to revel in the legend of a guy like Musial. He told me stories about how it was never about the money or the fame or the prestige. He told me stories about how Musial would (supposedly) sign a blank contract. "He knew the owners would pay him what he was worth," my dad used to say. "He was just lucky to be able to play for a living." I have no idea if that story is true or not, but I know my dad believes it is. And it is emblematic of what he thinks can be good about sports, good about the world and the qualities he admires in men.
What story do I have to tell my sons? What values does a guy like LeBron embody? Selfishness? A willingness to stomp very publicly on the people who have supported him since he was a kid? A just-win attitude?
What kills me about this whole thing is how he spoke about Cleveland. "I've done a lot of great things for that franchise..." "I know I won't be considered one of the greats unless I have won multiple championships..." You can will all of the championships from here until your knees give out LeBron. You may go down as one of the best who ever played. But your hopes of being considered "one of the greats" are gone forever. Because greatness on the field of athletic play is about more than winning. It is about being an example. You are an example of nothing. Not anymore.
There's a sting for the fans that is natural. You feel slighted. Cast aside. I get that. And in a lot of ways that is our own fault for elevating an athlete to a ridiculously high platform and hoping the light he shines will be cast upon us all. That's our problem, our shortcoming to deal with. But what bothers me the most about this whole thing is that LeBron had an opportunity to create the kind of bonding, the kind of intimate familial legend I had with my dad - those moments he shared with me talking about Stan Musial and using his legend to teach me in a relatable way what it means to be a man - and squandered it.
So, yes, Miami will probably win some championships. LeBron will be the MVP again before he is done. But the fans there will never be able to look at him the same way his hometown fans once did. And I, as a father, will not be able to talk about him the way my dad talked about Musial. Instead, some day I will talk about what happened last night with my kids and I will tell them:
"Sons, that is no way to be a man."
Comments (4):