LeBron James: The man and the journey

“Be not afraid of greatness. Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and others have greatness thrust upon them.” - William Shakespeare, Twelfth Night.

Great lines and greater implications, the veracity of which has been time and again vindicated across all walks of life, by people and circumstances as varied as one can envisage. Lines that in many ways sum up the 10-year NBA career of a certain LeBron “the King” James.

Now that we know that he has made his way into basketball immortality, it might be a good time to reflect on what actually is great and not so great about the man and his journey.

When LeBron James entered the league at the age of 18, people were already talking about his hyperbolic athletic ability and immense talent. They believed that he was a player who could take over the reins and be the face of the league.

LeBron, however, wasn’t in any mood to be modest. Even as an 18-year old rookie, he planned to be great and quite possibly the greatest of all time. He had a decorated high school career behind him, a promising future ahead of him, and at the cusp of the transition he chose to gloat over the promise. Well, he had his reasons to believe.

LeBron’s basketball journey was not a lone crusade, but an enjoyable adventure that he undertook with his friends Sian Cotton, Dru Joyce III and Willie McGee, the group of four friends who anointed themselves as the “Fab Four”. And as it is with most teenage friendship stories, they chose to make collective decisions, the most important being their decision to play high school ball together. The only way they could see that happening was by choosing to attend St. Mary’s High School, a largely white private school; a school they chose over their local private school.

It was a small controversy of sorts, but LeBron and his friends echoed an unequivocal desire to combine and accentuate their talents. LeBron had an able supporting cast and he flourished. Maybe he never understood the true value of playing together with friends, because it was a given for him. It takes greatness to win things alone, but it is smarter to get all the help you can. LeBron sure had help; maybe he never realized that he needed it rather than it being a luxury.

But one can’t surely expect such complex psychological dynamics to be understood by a high school kid. That is, maybe, the greatest reason why jumping college and getting into the NBA straight after high-school can be such a risk. LeBron entered the league and expected everything to play out like the fairy-tale he had been dreaming of. He was the bedizened prince in a passionate and glory-deprived city of Cleveland, the only hope for the Cavs and the city to earn their share of basketball glory. Quite similar to what Michael Jordan did with the Bulls. Not so sagaciously, LeBron wore no. 23 (the enigmatic Jordan jersey number), did his own version of Michael’s pre-game powder toss and adopted his habits to the level of it almost being anti-semantic and irrational. He assumed greatness as he promoted himself as the heir to Michael and staked his claim to be one of the greatest of all time.

Now, equalling Michael is a forbidden dream in the game. To the basketball fraternity, Jordan was just in a different stratosphere. Claims to equal him, challenge him or even dare to compete with him were always met with cruel calumnious repudiations and critique. When Iverson crossed over Michael, he was the insolent kid. When Reggie Miller trash-talked Michael, he was rude. When Isiah and the Pistons rebuked and defeated Michael, they were dirty. Michael was the indubitable superstar, greater than Magic, maybe even greater than Elvis. To defy him was to be faithless and almost an agnostic, who the savants and the fans would be in no mood to tolerate.

So when LeBron claimed to try and be the greatest basketball player ever to play the game, all he did was paint a huge target for the media, fans, players, savants and the pundits to scrutinize. To his mind he was ready, as he set about making one hyperbolic play after another. He made many highlight plays, and changed the definition and role of the Small Forward. He had a little bit of many greats – he could push the ball and pass like Magic and he could do the aerial stuff like, maybe, Elgin Baylor and Julius Erving. He was the Point Forward in the true definition of the word, a role that maybe Scottie Pippen made popular, but LeBron proved that he could take it to a whole new level. The savants and the legends took notice. They knew he had the talent. Did he have the heart and the clutch mentality to rise to the pedestal and do what separates champions from the crowd?

Sadly, it took LeBron 9 years to rise to the pedestal. 9 years in which he had to face maybe the greatest amount of criticism that any basketball player ever had. Not Charles Barkley, not Wilt, not even Ewing and the Knicks faced anything remotely close to what he had to go through. His mental toughness, his heart, his ability and his pride – all were questioned, exploited and dissected.

He failed to deliver when it mattered as he went into a shell, and despite him putting up great numbers he couldn’t get the job done. He won multiple individual honours, the NBA All-Star MVP, the NBA MVP, etc. He was far and away the best player in the league, but if you want to be the greatest in the game, you have to do better.

Suddenly everyone was fishing for flaws in his game. He didn’t shoot the three-ball well enough, wasn’t a great defensive player and beyond his marauding drive to the rim, didn’t have much to boast of. They critiqued him, questioned him and got under his skin.

LeBron fought his best, but with age and time he realized that he couldn’t do it all alone. He needed a team like his high school one, a team of friends he knew and he could trust; players who would have his back when he would inadvertently be fighting through demons in his mind. Luckily, he had always been a jovial and nice guy, and had managed to befriend two of the top 10 players in the game. The beginning of “take my talents to south beach”. Magic had Kareem, Michael had Pippen. LeBron just didn’t get sidekicks. He went ahead to make a Superteam.

The Superteam faced a rampaging tirade of hate from the basketball fraternity, but they bore it all knowing that they had a chance to do something very special. The media and the savants were intrigued, and the biggest question was who would come across as the alpha dog in the “BIG THREE”. Who was the face of the franchise for the Heat now? Wade, LeBron or Bosh? Was it an escapist act on the part of LeBron?

Three years hence, the answers are there for everyone to see. A demolishing loss against the Mavericks, a vindicating win against the Thunder and a re-iterating marathon win against the Spurs. LeBron ended with two Finals MVP titles and a sure place in basketball immortality, and as a much wiser man. The doubts had been quenched. LeBron was playing like a champion, doing the dirty defensive chores, making the highlight plays and leading the team through.

If anything, the NBA Finals of 2013 were a sure showcase of how far LeBron had come from the NBA Finals of 2007. He had started the series saying that he was almost 20, 30 or even 50 times better. Popovich acknowledged his growth, but wasn’t taking it as a sure fact. He did exactly what he did in the 2007 NBA series. He got his defenders to back off LeBron and give him the jump-shot. He clogged the lane and whenever LeBron did manage to get to the paint, he was smothered and suffocated between a maze of bodies. He couldn’t use his much-improved post-up game, because the Spurs were too efficient with their rotations.

LeBron now had to face up to the reality and show the world how versatile a scorer he could be. He didn’t have a great start as he struggled and failed to score over 20 points for the first three games of the series. He went 5-29 from beyond the paint in the first three games, and couldn’t find any offense going. It was time for him to dig deep down and so he did. He wasn’t ready to quit, as he pounded the glass, raked in rebounds, dished and orchestrated the play and just kept on fighting through. His best game yet was maybe in Game 6 when he led the Heat from a 10-point deficit in the fourth quarter to a 3-point lead. Yes, maybe he almost threw the game away with his two costly turn-overs in the final minute, but he also hit the clutch three to get the Heat within 3. Ray Allen may have saved the day and Chris Bosh may have won it for them with his crucial blocked shots on Green and Parker, but it was LeBron who put the Heat in a strong position with his explosive performance. If it were not for LeBron, the series would have been over in 6 games. It was surely not perfect, but then again it was very special.

Yes, there are some people who may claim that LeBron got a lot of help. It did help that Dwyane Wade suddenly showed up. It did help that Chris Bosh had a big game 5 and 6. It did help that Shane Battier made his mark with his 18-point Finals performance. It did help that the veteran Spurs seemed exhausted and blew away Game 6. It did help that Tony Parker wasn’t half the player that he was against the Grizzlies. It did help that Tim Duncan couldn’t make the game-tying jump hook over Battier with 37 seconds left in Game 7. It did help that Ray Allen made one of the greatest clutch threes in all of NBA post-season history.

Yes, he had the help that he needed. But nobody wins it all alone. LeBron was the heart and soul of the team as he closed out the series with an imperious Game 7 performance, amassing 37 points on 12-23 shooting and raking in 12 rebounds – highlighted by his dagger 17-footer jumper to seal the game and the series – his hyperbolic 5-7 shooting from beyond the arc, and his big-time defensive shutdown of Tony Parker. LeBron fought through the demons in his head and around him, as he took up the challenge and backed himself to make the open jumpers. Conviction, as they say, is the biggest game-changer and his desire and conviction showed as he turned one of his biggest frailties into his go-to move and made the Spurs pay.

As they always say, life’s battles don’t always go to the stronger or faster man. Sooner or later, the one who wins is the one who thinks he can. LeBron was the stronger, smarter and the faster man already. It took him a while to think like one.

As he stood with the NBA Finals trophy and his NBA Finals MVP trophy, he just looked at the media and the fans with arrogance and superfluous confidence. It was a look of vindication, of vendetta maybe, and of defiant conviction. As he aptly put it, “I’m LeBron James. I’m from Akron, Ohio. From the inner city. I’m not even supposed to be here.”

Finally, it was the frustration venting out. They rebuked his last ring, saying it was in a lock-out season, the Thunder were not experienced and Miller, Battier and Chalmers won it for the Heat. He repeated it in an 82-game season, against the seasoned Spurs, and did it in the grandest way possible.

Jordan may have picked Kobe over LeBron and his reason was: 1 < 5. We still can’t dispute that, especially with the Black Mamba doing what he did to LeBron in the All-Star game. LeBron may defy that, and may still have to fight against slanders about his flopping, his constant complaining to the refs, his receding hairline and even Nate Robinson blocking him.

It doesn’t matter to the king as long he keeps on gathering the rings. It is two now and he may actually fulfil his prophecy of winning “not four, not five…”. About the Jordan and Kobe comparisons, I guess they can wait till he wins at least five.