HEAT or HATE: Perspectives on LeBron James

Maybe it was the Hummer in high school, bought with mysterious funds. Perhaps it was the back tat promising the world that he was the alleged reincarnation of the greatest athlete to ever put an orange thing in another orange thing. Or maybe it’s just because I live in Oklahoma. But either way, LeBron James and his flop-happy, soap-worthy performances have drawn my mire and hopes for defeat.

Don’t get me wrong, James is definitely fun to watch. But I still hate his guts.

This will only happen a few times in your life. But every once in a while, there will be an incredible foe, who–beneath your breath, perhaps with a hand over your mouth–sinks your undying confident heart into the guttural depths of your stomach and makes you go, “Damn.”

I thought for sure the Pacers had his number in game 1, only to see him go straight to the bucket untouched for a game winning layup–something that, if you’re a true baller, is a hard notion to even fathom. But such is the dominant play of James. I can’t describe how many times I’ve felt like the Heat were going to lose, only to see James go off in such and such quarter and break such and such record. The dude is a beast.

And during this playoff run, his electric talent seems to be igniting the fuses of once burned-out players.

Chris “The Birdman” Andersen basically can’t miss, Mario “Rio” Chalmers is once again putting up 20 pts. a contest, and Ray “Insert Shooting Stroke Nickname” Allen is finally off the schnide and sinking three’s and free’s like most of us normal people might forgotten paperwork into a trash bin two feet away.

As I mentioned, I’m from OKC, so obviously, killing my Thunder has been a source of antagonism as of late, but if everyone outside of Miami hates LeBron and the Heat, it is really so bad to pull for whichever team is playing them?

Probably not.

LeBron plays the villain well; he’s grown into it. From once proclaiming the world to anyone in South Beach who would listen, we’ve since seen him on fasts from social media, earnestly reading classic novels in the locker room, inviting Durant to summer workout and mentorship lessons, leading his team to a near perfect win percentage, and slowly climbing the ladder to triple-double playoff greatness.

Honestly, I think I hate the Heat simply because I’m a Thunder fan, and the Heat seem unbeatable. True to their back tats, James has been the “Chosen One,” while Durant is not sure how to be “mature”.


It’s hard to admit, but I know I’m not the only fan who feels that way. God, I wish someone could beat this team, just to prove wrong the age old adage that dickfaces, and not good guys, ultimately win in the end.

The guy predicted he would win in grand fashion, and now he is, which would make for a perfect villain in any of the books he reads during the playoffs. But it turns out, sometimes life is just like, or even crazier than, fiction.



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