Let me first apologize for this being a little late; see my miserable, monotonous life demands I work for nine hours a day, you know, the type of life that forces one to regularly seek refuge in diversionary outlets-say sports for example. Yep, admittedly, you could say my life is not quite befitting of a King.
Anyway, let's just get right to the point LeBron- what in the hell were you doing? And no, I'm not referring to your gaudy, personality embodying, "if you didn't like me before, wearing these won't help", over-sized, black rimmed glasses.
I'm not referring to you averaging a pedestrian 17.8 PPG in the Finals. I'm not referring to your incessant and incredibly off-putting petulance. (FYI -a missed shot doesn't always mean you were fouled). I'm not even referring to you losing in the NBA Finals for the second time, yes you are now 2-8 in the biggest games your profession offers, and yes you don't have "bad teammates" to blame it on this time, but I digress, for that's not my issue with you.
See, it's not that you failed.
It's that you didn't try.
You are the most talented basketball player in the World.
You took those unprecedented talents to South Beach. In a surreal scene of pyrotechnics, bad music, and unparalleled self-indulgence, you all but promised, and in fact prematurely celebrated, numerous titles....it was seven right?
Yet, when the time came to officially lay claim to the Championship, you were nowhere to be found. In a mystery worthy of the late Robert Stack, the talents you took to South Beach inexplicably vanished.
Uninterested, disengaged, uninspired-no, those would be too kind of words.
Scared. You were scared.
See, talking a big game is easy. So is being a bully, that is of course until you run into someone who isn't keen on being bullied.
Unfortunately for you, the Dallas Mavericks were that someone. Like the Celtics did last year, they recognized the façade that is your ego, that your resolve resides in a straw house.
You didn't try. You were scared. In the biggest quarters, of the biggest games, you became allergic to the ball, apparently employing a simplistic and terribly misguided philosophy, that "If I don't take the shots, then I don't miss the shots, which means it isn't my fault, which means I don't fail".
Which is fine- Except it was your fault. You did Fail.
See LeBron, one's innate talent is not by itself inherently memorable, it's fingerprints are not left on history unless history is grabbed.
When commissioned to paint the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel, Michelangelo didn't say "I'm the best painter in the world-but I'm not risking screwing that up".
John Lennon and Paul McCartney didn't say to themselves "We sound pretty good, but we're too scared to take it beyond this garage".
And Michael Jordan-well I'll let him speak for himself:
"I know fear is an obstacle for some people, but it is an illusion to me . . . Failure always made me try harder next time. I can accept failure, everyone fails at something. But I can't accept not trying."
Well King, you failed. That alone is acceptable-if you tried.
I'll get back to addressing my "real life" problems now. For your sake, hopefully you start doing the same.
Be Good Friends