So this seemed a little odd: LeBron James, standing alongside his Lakers teammates and various other team personnel (including general manager Rob Pelinka, a Rob Lowe lookalike and former Fab Five adjunct) after the team closed out Miami to win the NBA title Sunday night, and going all Aretha Franklin/Rodney Dangerfield.
“I want my damn respect, too,” he said.
Excuse me? A guy routinely mentioned among the greatest in league history needs — no, begs for — respect? Even taken in context, it didn’t seem to make much sense. And here, for the record, is James’ full statement to reporters: “We just want our respect. Rob wants his respect. Coach (Frank) Vogel wants his respect. Our organization wants its respect. Laker Nation wants their respect. And I want my damn respect, too.”
Uh, OK. But why then? James had just claimed the fourth championship of his 17-year career, and had done it with his third different team. Only three other players — Danny Green, Robert Horry and John Salley — have ever accomplished that. And James was Finals MVP for the fourth time, too.
It speaks to the weird relationship James has had with the public since making the prep-to-pro leap in 2003. And it speaks to the age in which we live, too. While Michael Jordan, the other player most often mentioned as the GOAT, was almost universally adored in the pre-Twitter age in which he played, James’ every move has been scrutinized and dissected.
Sure, LeBron has had some missteps, notably The Decision in 2010, when he clumsily announced that he was moving from the Cavaliers to the Heat. But there’s been nothing scandalous. He’s been a good citizen off the court, even building a school in his hometown of Akron, and on it has extended his prime deep into his 30s despite playing the equivalent of three extra seasons; Sunday’s contest was the 260th playoff game of his career, an NBA record.
He has been criticized for not winning enough, having gone 4-6 in the Finals to date. But let us consider some of the teams he has dragged into the championship round. The four Cavaliers who started Game Six of the 2015 Finals with him, for instance, were Timofey Mozgov, Matthew Dellavedova, Tristan Thompson and Iman Shumpert, as Kyrie Irving and Kevin Love were both injured. And that was, remember, against no less a team than Golden State (pre-Kevin Durant, but still).
James has also been ripped for not taking the big shot often enough. Happened again in Game Five of the Finals, when he passed to Danny Green with the game on the line in the closing seconds. Green, all by himself at the top of the circle, bricked a 3-pointer, a panicked Markieff Morris threw an errant pass after claiming the offensive board and the critics lined up to take their swipes at LeBron … for, I guess, making a sound basketball play.
I mean, watch the video of the play again. Four defenders — Jimmy Butler, Duncan Robinson, Bam Adebayo and Jae Crowder — converge on James. Four! Passing is somehow a bad thing in that situation? Child, please.
There are nonetheless those who claim Jordan would never, ever do such a thing in a similar situation, forgetting he had done exactly that at the end of title clinchers in 1993 and 1997, when he set up John Paxson (via Scottie Pippen and Horace Grant) and Steve Kerr for decisive shots. (Here is video of Paxson’s dagger, against Phoenix. And here is video of Kerr’s, against Utah.)
But James never gets a pass when he, ya know, passes. ESPN commentator Jay Williams, a former player, was quick to criticize him for doing so at the end of Game Five, though other players and ex-players, notably Kendrick Perkins, C.J. McCollum, Josh Hart and Jamal Crawford, rushed to his defense.
And James, when asked by reporters for his take on the play, was succinct: “I trusted him, we trusted him, and it just didn’t go. You live with that.”
He clearly has a harder time living with his overall image — despite his legacy, despite his success, despite everything. At first glance that might seem a little odd. But not after you take a closer look.