Dear TheBron (or “LeBron” – to our millions of French-speaking fans) …
From the very beginning, our friend, and my beloved boss – Tad Carper – emphasized that I was to focus on the “Cavaliers” as a TEAM and not on you AS the team.
And I think I’ve done that pretty well over my nine seasons covering you (13th with the Cavaliers, overall).
It sure hasn’t been difficult over the past couple years. We have multiple All-Stars at multiple positions. We have the hottest three-point marksman in the East and the best rebounding reserve in the league. Our bench is deep and nasty.
But why am I telling you how good your teammates are at basketball? You and I spend more time with those knuckleheads than our own families for eight months a year.
So I’ve always spread the love in this column – from Jamarius Moon to J.R. Bremer. I once had Martynas Andriuskevicius hitting a game-winner. What the cuss was I thinking on that one?!
Well, not today.
Today, as the Cavaliers start their 20th journey to the postseason, I wanted to write to you – TheBron – not as a guy who sits a few rows in front of you on the War Rig – but as a Clevelander and a Cavs fan, one who bleeds wine and gold. (Not literally, although that’d be pretty sweet.)
When you first reached the postseason back in 2005, Detroit was the class of the Conference.
And after you and Damon Jones KO’d Washington, the Pistons smushed Cleveland pretty good in two straight to start the Second Round. But you won the next three and took the reigning Eastern Conference Champs to seven games with sidekicks like Hendu and Flip Murray.
One year later, you gave me the greatest sports moment, to this day, that I’ve ever witnessed.
That moment is obviously your magnum opus in the Game 5 double-overtime victory in Detroit – scoring 25 straight points, 29 of the team’s final 30, and 48 overall.
You were unstoppable – you both knew it.
That night, I sat next to (now ESPN’s) Chris Broussard and across from (the voice of your Canton Charge) Scott Zurilla – each of us agog as you created history.
You literally broke the Pistons franchise that night!
One game later, Boobie shot Detroit down and, in true TheBron fashion, you were completely content to let him take over and bask in the spotlight you routinely live in.
By the time you met Detroit in the Playoffs again in 2009, they barely had the will to fight. You and Ben Wallace and Big Z brushed the poor Pistons aside in four games. Near the end of Game 4, they were chanting “MVP!” at The Palace.
Hooper was beyond p*ssed. Mini-Hooper, too.
Today, the Circle of Life returns us to another date with Detroit. It’s Stan Van’s squad now, and the whole league knows he’s got something good cooking up in Motown.
But right now, he’s in the way.
And I hope you treat his Pistons as such. And the team after that. And the team after that. And then one more team after that.
I guess that’s why I’m writing. I’m asking that you play angry every time you gear up – from Sunday afternoon until you get what you came to the postseason looking for.
Play. Angry.
Combine that with your laser-focus on the floor since the All-Star Break and the next four foes will be speed-dialing Elk & Elk (who might, in turn, require a third or fourth Elk) when you’re done with ‘em.
Last June, putting up Herculean numbers, you nearly won the NBA title with 67 percent of the Big Three in street clothes. Imagine what you can do with the strongest supporting cast you’ve ever had.
And if you’re concerned if you are, in fact, playing angry enough, I’ve got that all taken care of, too.
In the coming days and weeks of our prolonged Playoff run, I’ll be republishing a new, revamped and re-tooled TheBron Angry-o-Meter™.
I have Digital wunderkind Joe Caione under the hood right now, and that little paisan will have it humming by the time we get to Detroit later this week. We put in some new sparkplugs and had a couple valves replaced. You’re gonna love it!
You’re my favorite athlete of all-time. I dig watching you more than Fran Tarkenton, Bernard King and Brian Sipe combined.
You’re the best basketball player in the world and, in my opinion, of all-times. Regardless of how many titles you’ll eventually win, no player has ever had – (and might ever have) – the combination of skills, smarts and strength that you do.
And as astounding as you’ve been over the course of your eventual Hall of Fame career, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you playing better than you are right now.
So I’m writing today’s column to implore you: Please … show NO mercy. I’ve seen what it looks like when you have no regard for human life in the postseason – and it’s a beautiful thing.
Now that the Larry O’Brien Trophy has donned its bulbous Aurelian dome, you know exactly what you need to do. It’s what you came back here for. It’s what we waited around here for and why we didn’t just evacuate the place and push it into the Lake.
All season long, you’ve been saying that it’s not all about wins and losses. But right now, it’s all about wins and losses. You know that because you’ve been to the mountain top. And now we need you to take us there.
Over the next couple months, I hope that – off the floor – you remain the nice, normal guy that many of us know you to be. It’s one of the things that make you worthy of thanks and praise.
But between the lines, I hope you unleash the beast – today and in the other 15 victories that separate the motherland from a World Championship.
That’s all I have today for both the four-time MVP and the rest of you readers, who have no combined MVPs between you but are, nonetheless, equally loved.
After all, it’s Playoff time; and what do I think, that TheBron sits around reading letters all day?!
Nope.
But I do think this: That there’s a gleam, Numeral 23.
You know it and I know it.
I’ll see you at the gym on Sunday afternoon.
Let’s get the gleam …
Your pal,
The Optimist