Suddenly, Kobe's equal in arrogance
The show's on him: LeBron James turns himself into a free-agent loser withneedless theatrics
It doesn't matter which team LeBron James signs with in free agency. He's already lost.
King James — as he's now taken to self-dubbing himself on Twitter — couldn't have botched his historic free agency any more if he signed with the Los Angeles Clippers. Now, whether it's Cavs, Knicks, Heat or Bulls, one thing is already certain: LeBron is going to be a lot less liked from now on than he ever has been in his career.
It used to be almost impossible to loath LeBron. He was the anti-Kobe Bryant — the guy who prefers passing to scoring, the cut-up who made the Cleveland Cavaliers punctuate their introductions with those silly picture poses, the kid in a man's body who seems to delight in hitting those crazy, meaningless three-quarter-court practice shots more than any in-game poster slam.
Even when you wanted to dislike LeBron you couldn't.
I remember going to cover LeBron at the Prime Time Shootout in Trenton, N.J., his senior year of high school. This was one of those promoter-fueled tournaments that makes a mockery of the idea of high school sports being amateur athletics. LeBron was coming off the Hummer scandal (his mom bought him a Hummer H2 for his 18th birthday before the family had any NBA money, prompting an investigation from the Ohio High School Athletic Association).
Everyone thought LeBron would be in for a grilling from the New York-area media.
Then, he breezed in, dropped 52 points on another-near-professional-high-school-team, charmed everyone with his willingness to answer every question — and has basically been fawned over in the greater New York market ever since.
You had to smile at LeBron.
Until July 1st hit and he morphed into the overindulged brat he never showed (or did a good job of hiding) during his real teenage years.
Even before today's announcement that LeBron would reveal his team choice in an hour-long ESPN special Thursday night, one that already carries an appropriately ridiculously self-important title ("The Decision") and a broadcast location (he's flying into Greenwich, Conn. for the show) that has many declaring the Knicks the sudden, surprise favorites, the former good guy showed supreme arrogance in this process.
LeBron made teams come to him rather than agreeing to visits, a classic who-holds-the-power flex that seems to have been lifted from one of the kill at business books that LeBron-buddy Warren Buffett recommended. He wouldn't even smile at the Ohio fans who showered him with nothing but devotion for years when he judged a local slam dunk contest.
He's morphed into the classic, grumpy jerk. It doesn't matter that LeBron demanded that the proceeds from his ESPN special go to the Boys and Girls Club. He still came up with the idea that he deserved a special in the first place (his advisors went to ESPN and pitched the idea). He still insisted on a near Tiger-Woods-level of control, including his own handpicked host (Jim Gray, who's actually an excellent interviewer).
Meanwhile, fellow NBA All-Stars Dwyane Wade (Miami), Chris Bosh (Miami), Kevin Durant (Oklahoma City) and Joe Johnson (Atlanta) have all secured mega contracts for themselves without coming off like spoiled brats.
LeBron may be winning his future, but he's tossed away his rep.