Do you ever hear him complain (except to officials)? Do you ever hear him displace blame on others, such as Spoelstra or underperforming teammates? Do you ever hear of a rift in Heat camaraderie? Do you ever hear of misbehavior or typical superstar rudeness? Do you know how magnanimous a personality it takes to bring Miamis diverse populace together, extinguish our notorious hostility and gladly lift the city on his shoulders?
Time to celebrate
In the aftermath of Game 7, James squirted champagne in the locker room (one guy was smart enough to put on ski goggles) and strode the arena corridors with a cigar clamped between his teeth. He earned that joy, not merely via 6-8, 260 pounds worth of freakish talent but through dogged dedication to improve his game even though he has been told since age 12 that he is the No. 1 player on the planet.
This is a guy who unabashedly loves his mother and in postgame comments spoke excitedly about his upcoming wedding to his longtime girlfriend. He said that to come through for my teammates makes me more satisfied than anything in the world.
Success makes it easier to see how James was misunderstood. Success makes it easier for James to see his true self.
I want to be, if not the greatest, one of the greatest to ever play this game, he said after Miamis victory. I will continue to work for that, and continue to put on this uniform and be the best I can be every night.
During the sun-soaked celebration Monday, as players waved to spectators or, in Birdmans case, flapped and held the gold trophy aloft, James wore a tropical-colored hat with a sparkly gold Nike crown logo stuck on the front. It looked like it was cut from the sort of plastic toy you would buy for a costume party. He was downplaying the whole king thing, having fun with it. His reign should be enjoyed. Finally for King James, easy lies the head that wears the crown.