We ain’t stupid: why it’s hard to love LeBron James

(Disclaimer: I usually don't write about the NBA since starting this blog, opting instead to concentrate on helping get the word out on our proudly homegrown basketball leagues/associations. That being said, I just couldn't find it in me not to write about someone who is arguably the best basketball player today, and the frustrations the come with it.)
For all the God given freakish athleticism, high basketball IQ and charisma in the world, there’s a reason why one LeBron James has yet to win the world over. And it’s not simply because he decided to strip his old team balls-out on national television in search of greener pastures—no, it’s because of the player himself. A player so gifted, anything less than a 20,5,5 stat line would be deemed an utter disappointment or travesty. 

At the tender age of 25 and still nowhere near his absolute prime (until he learns the intricacies of post-up play and of learning to create scoring opportunities within the three point line as a receiver instead of a direct facilitator, he is still far from a complete basketball player—which is scary really), we have seen flashes of brilliance. A hybrid of past greats: Michael Jordan’s marketing magic, Magic Johnson’s court vision and Oscar Robertson’s all-around play.

But then, he gives us games such as Game 5 against Boston last year where it was clear that he wasn’t forcing the issue and settled for shots. The mysterious “elbow injury” that didn’t look like it on the floor at all but was pretty much a byproduct of his solid (on its way to great) LRMR team.

In this year’s Finals Game 4, we see LBJ at his worst yet again. Settling, drifting, making just the right amount of gimme plays but not the ones that make an impact on the floor. His stat line of 8, 7, 8 isn’t all too bad really, but the manner in which he played, that made the whole thing worse. Throw all of the stats out, and he was clearly passive on both offense AND defense.

True enough, a foreign scribe even illustrated the final scenario of that game wherein Dirk Nowitzki took the telling lay-up that would seal the game. Nowitzki in the pivot versus Udonis Haslem,  the German Jeesoos gets away, but Dwyane Wade, who was at the weak side of the defense, comes in and tries to block him at the last minute (and fails).

All the while. LeBron James, who was right there on the strong side, guarding Jason Terry, refused to either take a swipe at Nowitzki to bother the big German’s dribble or even challenge him the minute he went for a lay-up.

Granted, James was probably protecting against Nowitzki’s kick-out option, but at that point, who could argue against a 6”8 athletic freak of nature who has risen to become the “best all around basketball player on the planet” in this playoffs? I bet my bottom Peso that had he tried to double Nowitzki, it would’ve resulted in a turnover or a rushed, botched play for the Mavericks with Terry trying to shoot over a lunging James.

But therein lies the rub. James wouldn’t have done that. Because, as DeShawn Stevenson puts, the man “checked-out.”

You can point to James deferring to Wade on offense—but that doesn’t excuse him from anything. Yes, I agree that Wade should have the ball against the Mavs’ zone offense—because he’s the shiftier dribble penetrator who can find the seams with ease. Bulldozing slashers such as James or even a Derrick Rose, would be rendered useless against disciplined zone defense because it clogs the paint (a not-so-talked about property of this brilliant/lazy team defense that hides poor defenders like Nowitzki and Kidd. Whenever people think zone, they often think that it’s designed to stop the big man. No, it’s designed to stop whoever from going in. Period.).

Here’s the deal. We all know that James is a once-in-a-lifetime talent. But as proven in Game 4, the effort isn’t always there. It’s obvious that he plays with an agenda night in and night out instead of simply “winning” as he would say. Either he has realized that should they win, Dwyane Wade is all set to win his second Finals MVP regardless if he drops 30 points a night in the next two or three games, the fact that he stopped playing, stopped caring out on the floor, is an embarrassment to himself and an insult to his fans.

This scenario has happened before, and even Kobe Bryant has done it (but only once when he tried to drive home a point during the Lakers’ Shaq-KB-Glove-Mailman year). For the games’ greats, they never hide or disappear when needed, and even when they’re not scoring, you can see in their body language how much winning means (see Kobe Bryant in last year’s deciding Game 7 against Boston where he can’t make any shot on the floor, but delivered by hauling 14 rebounds against Boston’s bigs and even his fellow Lakers’ bigs).

Fool me once, shame on me, fool me twice, shame on you.

I’m not hating on LeBron James, it’s just the simple truth.