We've all been there, combing through the impractically lit carbon-freezing chamber of a landing station on Planet Bespin when out of an ominous-looking cloud of fog comes the silhouette of destiny waiting to smack us in the face with the biggest choice of our lives. It's terrifying, but more importantly it's necessary.
Since last week much has been said and done regarding LeBron James' decision to fly the coop and head to southern Florida in what will likely go down as the most polarizing transaction in NBA history. We've seen melodramatic Clevelanders set flame to authentic-grade jerseys, we've seen an owner lose composure under the stress of discovering that his franchise player just isn't that into him, and we've seen every single sports analyst on Planet Earth weigh in on the moral fibre of a man they, at best, barely even know.
What we haven't seen is sympathy, not for any one really, especially in light of Dan Gilbert's dramatic break-up letter posted on Cavs.com after the decision was made public (and presumably one, two, or several gin martinis). We especially haven't seen sympathy for James, who along with his band of uncertified public relations amateurs, hummed and hawed over the decision of where he would spend the next significant chunk of his legendary career before finally announcing it for the world to hear in a pretentious hour of prime-time television.
Now the league and the universe really are faced with something previously unseen. This isn't like when the Boston Celtics sold the farm for two All-Stars approaching the twilight of their careers or when the 2003-04 Lakers signed Karl Malone and Gary Payton in the New Moon of their careers (hah!). These are two of the top 10 players in the NBA, both of whom can barely rent cars without having to pay an underage fee, joining another, perhaps even more accomplished (and certainly top 5) star. Regardless, this isn't a last hurrah. This is life as we know it for the foreseeable future.
Speculation has arisen as to how the decision came about. Had it been decided since the Beijing Olympic Games like everybody who has access to the internet seems to think it was? Did James really make the biggest decision of his professional life the morning of The Decision? Were Chris Bosh, Dwyane Wade and LeBron James all actually hatched together in an alien laboratory at the bottom of the ocean in 1982 and then raised separately as super babies poised to bring last-minute salvation to the galaxy prior to the end of the Mayan calendar?
We'll never truly know, just as LeBosh Wade will never really know for sure why or when they decided to collude, it may have been different for all three of them. So we might as well pretend it went down like this...
Following a wrenching defeat at the hands of the Boston Celtics, LeBron James found himself wayward and lost. Not much had gone right for the back-to-back MVP other than the fact that his statistical value in basketball pools across the country was homing in on exorbitant and he won a few games in the regular season. He knew as well as you and I knew that executives across the NBA with whom he was unfamiliar would look to manipulate him, alleging better and more beneficial uses of his strength and skill. They would court him and trick him with promises of otherworldly stardom, championship rings and undivided commitment. He especially knew that one man - a figurehead of basketball supremacy - was one to regard with particular caution.
In May of 2010 he met that man, hair notoriously slicked and a grin that rose suspicion. After struggling in the NBA playoffs for the fifth consecutive year, LeBron knew that what he had promised the city of Cleveland was more easily said than done. He knew that now more than ever his heart was vulnerable. Fortunately he possessed the devotion and power to restore justice to the citizens of Cleveland. He would, as the prophecy told, be the one to lift the chronically-abysmal Cavaliers to the world's greatest stage while simultaneously sealing his spot upon the list of most powerful athletes to ever live. Now, before him stood the one man with the potential to interfere, each knowing far too well exactly what was at stake, they drew their lightsabers and prepared to settle the matter once and for all.
In a seemingly-choreographed exchange of might and finesse, LeBron and the dark lord Pat Riley fought for what they believed in, refusing to submit. Electricity whirred and flew as the two swordsmen clashed and swung. The weight of power shifted from state to state and back again. Neither relented, knowing that their names and lives were on the line. As the battle continued Riley gained the upper-hand he so anxiously sought, backing young LeBron up to the foundation complex of a nearby basketball net.
"You are beaten. It is useless to resist. Don't let yourself be destroyed as Obi-Wan did."
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