Roughly four years ago, I wrote this piece about unconfirmed stories, rumors and the growing use of “sources” as a complete cop-out.
Oddly enough, four years ago we had the absolute circus known as “The Decision” when we all collectively freaked out because a young man we (fans and media) gave a ton of fame and attention to at a young age chose a new basketball team.
Funny how much and how little changes over time.
We didn’t like the bombastic manner in which LeBron James joined Chris Bosh and Dwayne Wade in Miami – though in hindsight, the televised event raised over $6 million for charity.
No, we had a problem with the “Welcome Party” the following day – you know, “Not one, not two…”
And who wouldn’t, really? The brash, bold, self-aggrandizing manner in which they presented their new union was more than a touch overboard.
Still, did we take the time, in the moment, to analyze what was happening? No, not really. And we rarely do, because we are human. We need and want instant reaction, gratification and resolve. We were all busy burning jerseys, bashing, mocking, and defending.
I was among the masses, proclaiming that the “King” was a bit out of his element, that he hadn’t won anything, that, at 25-years old, he had severely overplayed his hand.
But over time, I accepted this narrative: his handlers had blown the whole TV thing, Jim Gray made it all seem a bit cheesy and most importantly, I thought that James was still in many ways a child-like person, just trying to break out and do something bold.
He never went to college, therefore wasn’t recruited, so it seems logical that he liked the recruiting process of free agency in 2010 – something that after many years in Cleveland, he’d earned the right to do. The Cavs never got him the help he needed. Jordan would not have won titles with that scurvy crew of misfits.
Feeling under-appreciated, feeling boxed-in, James went to Florida, to beaches and Pat Riley’s legendary figure, to Mickey Arison, a hipster dude who owns cruise ships and a basketball team. He went with buddies he made on the Olympic team, guys he knew didn’t suck at the sport of basketball, as it seemed his fellow teammates on the Cavs kind of did.
What was the truth in 2010? Probably a little bit of both.
And now? Well, I’m not sure any of what’s going on with James reasoning matters as much as how much stock we’re putting into reading tea leaves.
We think way too much of our athletes and role models in the public sphere, and yet at the same time, we dehumanize them. They have emotions, they have biases. They have their reasons. We just don’t care about that.
All this is to say, I can see how and why James would want to return to Cleveland now, four years later. A bit more accomplished to say the least, a bit more mature, perhaps even better equipped to handle the ridiculous amount of pressure applied by the greater Cleveland fan base.
I can also see how and why James would stay in Miami, even if for only a year or two.
Does James play into the power trip? Of course. And if you’re waiting for him to not, you are simply in the wrong era of athlete.
What about all of us? What about the fans in Cleveland who burned his jersey, now pleading for his return? What of the owner who comically, sans-ily wrote the most vicious and disgraceful e-mail in the history of people who got picked last? What about the Heat fans who walked out and booed in the Finals? What about our collective reaction to the cramps?
For better or worse, this man cannot win. And we like it that way, for whatever reason. So no matter what this decision yields, we’re ready to lose our minds.
And that is the entire crux of the problem. It feels as though nothing has happened, yet everything is happening.
James himself has done and said little to perpetuate the absolute ridiculous and scary uproar through the media over a possible return to Cleveland.
This brings us back to sources.
You’d think we’d have learned something from 2010, from attaching legitimacy to rumors, to giving full credence and exposure to “sources.”
But we haven’t learned a damn thing. If anything, we’re doing it all worse than before. From New York to Miami to Cleveland to Los Angeles, we’re all preparing for way too much joy and way too much anger.
Have you ever seen so many formerly reputable people get so much wrong? And someone reputable will be proven wrong, for sure. There are so many journalists and media types on both sides of the fence that there is no gray area. Reputations will be damaged.
And why? Because they are rushing to get anything out in an effort to provide the smallest morsel of information, to satisfy us. We crave it. We say we don’t, we act annoyed and we pretend like we don’t want it, but we do.
This is our drug. It’s speculation, gossip and the need to know what we don’t really need to. And the addicts need fed. Which is why we’re hearing anything and everything.
Cupcake shop owners claiming it’s a done deal. Moms who say LeBron’s wife’s pregnancy is enough to push him back to Cleveland. Someone who talked to someone in James’ group in Vegas who told a friend that Pat Riley exposed the pregnancy to the media before James had a chance to tell all his family and friends, so now they are mad and hurt.
Web programmers who have found hidden code on his website that shows the color scheme could change to Cavs base colors. People tracking Dan Gilbert’s plane, people watching and staking LeBron’s homes in Miami and Cleveland.
Look at us? Are we not entertained? We asked for it. And we can’t deny it any longer. SportsCenter, talk radio and Twitter are breaking records for viewers, listeners and refreshes per minute. James’ website crashed today. All because we’re seeking another hit, another piece of dubious intel.
And the media, addicted to our clicks because it brings pay raises and job promotions (see Broussard, Chris, 2010), are more than happy to find something, anything to be our dealer.
Is this a harsh or unfair analogy? Maybe, maybe not.
We want the media to check its sources? We should be checking ours.
Our sources, after all, are what permits this whole charade to begin with. A culture obsessed with the dirt and greed produces just that. We’re angry either way with James, then and now, because we’re jealous.
We’re outraged by his greed and the greed of athletes everywhere, but we’d do the same thing. We blast them for taking max deals and the money and playing for owners with less-than high morals, then blast them even more for collaborating with each other to take less and play with their friends and win championships.
We won’t be happy, no matter what. Social media is certainly intensifying the issue. It didn’t exist for Jordan’s playing days, or we would have destroyed him, too.
We’re easily bored, ready to tear down our idols just as fast as we build them up.
And why? Because it makes us feel better about us. Our lives are relatively empty, so it would seem by the way we follow celebrities and blow things completely out of proportion.
We have few true sources of joy and purpose as a society at large, so we do this. We ignore the news and stories that really matter, really make a difference, and throw all our emotions and interest to following adults who play kids games for large amounts of money switch companies to do the same job. We cut people down, and cut people off before we flip them off.
We jump jobs for money, then ask how they have the nerve. We cheat on our spouses, lie to our friends and cut corners, then put them on blast for doing the same. We scream at youth sporting events, officials and blame coaches, then call the pros cowards for doing the same in an interview where they’re goaded into the same. We’re hypocrites and we’ve created this.
‘Merica, right?
So here we are, four years later, having learned really nothing. We still wait with baited breath to find out where LeBron James will spend the next year, two or four, putting a basketball through a metal circle. Until we find what our collective culture is looking for, we’ll just keep on doing in this, in truly mind-numbing ways.
We’re in full-blown instant gratification mode now, seeking resolution merely for the sake of being able to move on with our judgments, our condemnation, our praise and dissection.
Feed the beast, LeBron. We’re hungry.
It’s just what we do now.
Before we blame anyone for this mess, perhaps we are the ones who should check our sources. Because I’m nearly 63.2 percent sure that according to reports, our intentions are dubious at best.
And we are all witnesses.

