The King and I

Four years.  A man changes a lot over four years.  Lebron James said in his letter to the nation that he has grown and changed from “The Decision”, where Lebron himself has admitted that he made a poor decision to have a nationally televised special to tell me, all other Cavs fans, and for that matter the Cavalier organization itself, that he was, “Taking his talents to South Beach.”.

                I was twenty-eight years old and sitting on a futon in a basement, and watched the decision from a dark and angry place.  I had spent the entire week prior glued to Twitter looking for any information as to whether the best player that had ever played for my team was going to stay in town.  When news started to break that Lebron was leaving to join the Miami Heat, I couldn’t believe it, or more accurately didn’t want to believe it.  I was holding on to any shred of hope that the reports weren’t true.  I watched “The Decision” thinking that there was no way Lebron was going to go in front of the nation and stab us in the back.  So I was sad and angry when he left.  I did not sleep that night four years ago.  I was up all night reading anything I could. Wanting to find out why he left.  Cheering Dan Gilbert for writing the letter and telling the traitor where to stick it.  I seethed when I saw the firework show the Heat threw, where Lebron counted down the championships that he was going to win in Miami. 

                I was mad and I stayed mad for quite some time.  My stomach churned every time the Heat or Lebron were mentioned by anyone.  I did not watch a Heat game that entire first season unless they were playing the Cavs, I couldn’t bear to see it. I didn’t watch the Finals that year against the Mavericks.  Not one second.  The idea of watching Lebron win a ring somewhere else when he didn’t want to do it for my team sickened me.  I would check in on the score online and rooted for the number next to the Mavericks logo click up.  I celebrated that Mavericks title as much as the fans in Dallas.  

                I didn’t watch a single Heat game until the NBA Finals the following year.  I watched the closing moments of game 5, as the Heat closed out the Thunder.  The only reason I did so was because my girlfriend had her sisters over before we left for a Florida vacation and banished me to the basement.  So I found myself two years later with nothing to do but watch Lebron win a championship.  Two years later and life hadn’t changed that much for me.  I was still pissed off at Lebron James in a basement. Although I didn't sleep that night either it was because I drove my girlfriend and her kids to Florida through the night. I was starting to forget how I felt in July 2010.

                The next year went on and I wasn’t as mad as I used to be.  I was getting over “The Decision”.  I wasn’t rooting for Lebron to win more titles and MVP awards but I wasn’t angry with him.  I said out loud in conversations with others that I hated him but it wasn’t filled with actual hate as it had been before.

                In June 2013, I had surgery on my shoulder and was laid up during the NBA finals.  I watched ever second of every game of that 7 game epic series with the Spurs.  I loved it.  Yes, I was rooting against Lebron and the Heat, but I was also rooting for the Spurs because of their classy organization that built through the draft to create a winning team.  I was disappointed when Ray Allen hit that corner three to pull off a miracle escape in game 6.  I didn’t like watching Lebron play great in game 7 and the player that is in my opinion the definition of how the game should be played, Tim Duncan, come up short.  But I went to sleep that night easily even though the man I thought I would never stop hating was a back to back champion.   Maybe it was because I was on prescription pain medicine or maybe it was because my wife, who during the last Lebron title the previous year was my girlfriend, slept next to me and took care of me while I healed. 

                This summer, I watched Lebron lose in a rematch to the Spurs.  This time I watched the games as a basketball fan.  I loved watching the great team in the Spurs, beat the great individual in Lebron James, with my wife and stepson.  I loved explaining to my step-son the importance of help defense and the extra pass, that I had taught him as his basketball coach in the winter.  The Spurs did their part to make me look a genius.  This finals I was happy that Spurs won more than the Heat lost, because my priorities had changed.  I watched these games not in a basement but in the comfort of the new recliner that my wife got for me.  I watched with my son and used sports to teach life lessons.

I spent the past week on the South Carolina beach, checking twitter constantly, being on roller coaster of emotions with each rumor. The emotions of July 2010 started to come back. I thought Lebron James was just toying with me. As if the most identifiable athlete in America was personally messing with me just for kicks. I stressed. I ignored others. I searched for a basement to be pissed off in. 

After two days, I realized, with the help of my wife, that I was being ridiculous.  I was reliving the hate, the disbelief, the stress.  I was regressing.

  Today, I went to the beach with my wife and kids without my phone.  We played in the water and sand together for hours.  During that time I was relaxed and loved life.  I didn’t think about the “Decision 2” and enjoyed my family.  In Lebron’s letter to the fans of Cleveland, he talked about being with his family and how much he had changed over the past four years.  How his priorities have changed.  I get it Lebron.  I have changed too.  Welcome home, it is a happier place here for me than when you left and now my team might actually win.

Follow me on twitter @Ferrellcomedy

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