It's appropriate that LeBron James was in Las Vegas at the beginning of last week for his youth camp because on Friday he took a gamble on his future and elected to join a group of youngsters. Who says you can't go home? Not Jon Bon Jovi and not LeBron James. He opted to return to Cleveland, thus rebuilding a bridge in a city where, coincidentally, one was simultaneously being detonated. James had a burning desire to come back, which is not to be confused with Cavs crazies burning desire to light his jersey on fire four years ago. Now, those fickle fans are flocking to their former flame.
James went the Richard Sherman/Michael Sam route and wrote an essay (not a letter, mind you) for Sports Illustrated, so the only scoop his ESPN shadow Brian Windhorst got was ice cream (from the looks of him, it was a double). The prodigal son, who was being cursed in the city as a different sort of son mere days ago, channeled his inner Pope Francis: "Who am I to hold a grudge?," he asked. All is forgiven and Dan Gilbert's gall is forgiven. He hung Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh out to dry in Miami like a two-piece bathing suit, yet they've defended him more thoroughly than they did any Spur in the Finals. Everyone has been understanding, yet we have a hard time understanding his dumbfounding decision. He may be more comfortable at home, but LeBron had better get comfortable with losing.
How many championships will he win in Cleveland? Not one, not two...not any is a possible answer. And he'll have to answer for that. Maybe not in Cleveland*, but everywhere else. In this evermore global game it's not enough to be a local legend. He may only have eyes for Ohio, but the world is watching (as cornea as that sounds). All pupils will be focused on how well James trains his.
*whose cranky citizens have to quit complaining about the sorry state of theirs sports, since they now have Johnny Football and LeBronny Basketball.
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