LeBron's Antics: Confirming What We Already Knew

Despite speaking virtually no words in public, LeBron James has managed to turn the 2010 NBA free agency period into the most exhausting prima donna act of his career.  This week's courtship has been a long time coming for the King.  For the past two years, James has openly flirted with his 2010 suitors—from marketing not one but two pairs of special NYC themed sneakers to professing his "love" for the Windy City—and now that this week finally arrived, he's made the most of it.  As the free agency period officially opened in July, James narrowed his list of potential destinations to a few key teams and granted them exclusive access to his Highness. James demanded that those teams fly out to meet him, in an order of his choosing, at a not-so-secret compound in Cleveland.  He sauntered in and out of those meetings in a t-shirt and shorts, all the while refusing to acknowledge the media.

Most recently, James has ratcheted the pretension a notch (or ten) further.  On Tuesday, James debuted his Twitter page (a site he previously poked fun at) along with a new website.  "Hello world, the Real King James is in the Building," he announced.  James then showed up to his Cleveland-based prep basketball camp several hours late and promptly ordered all media out of the gym so that he and his boys could scrimmage the college and high school kids in privacy.  That night,  ESPN announced that the King's camp had requested (and been granted) an hour long primetime special on the network Thursday evening to announce his free agency decision.  You know, kind of like 17 year-old kids do every year; but 59 minutes longer. 

Predictably, James's self-promotion—and namely his prime time special ("The Decision")—has drawn the ire of a number of fans and commentators.  But, more puzzlingly, it has also drawn their surprise.  Brian Windhorst, Cavs beat writer and follower of James since his time at St. Vincent's St. Mary's, tweeted that James had "changed."  Writers at ESPN.com and Sports Illustrated seem to agree, and everyone's worried that, suddenly, LeBron has tarnished his image—or even his legacy.  

But how is any of this surprising?  At all?

LeBron James has been one of the America's most celebrated athletes since he joined the NBA.  He has also been one of its most arrogant.  The first time the world saw James, he was a 17 year-old kid with stickers covering a couple of tattoos on his arms (a lion wearing a crown and the word "beast") and his jersey covering an even more telling one across his back—it reads "Chosen 1."   He had also warmly embraced the nickname "King James" and was driving a Hummer.  

In his seven years in the league, James has added some new art and plenty more arrogance.  He's tattooed "Witness History" down his calves, "Hold My Own"  and "What we do in life echoes in eternity" on his biceps, and "Gifted Child" on his chest.  At 19, he announced that he wanted to the the first billionaire athlete, and he's since hobnobbed with billionaire and not-even-close-to-billionaire moguls alike.  But James isn't pinching his pennies; like any good superstar, the King dresses flashy, drives flashier, and rolls around with an entourage (all of whom, at James's request, Nike designed personalized logos and sneakers for).   He's even started passing his personal legacy onto his two sons: LeBron Jr. (aka "Prince James") and Bryce Maximus. 

On the court, where James proudly proclaims that he has been endowed with "special powers" that allow him to play "above time," James is just as self-important.  It's not his playing style—James is well-known to selflessly spread the ball around on offense.  But everything around the game itself is all about James.  He enters games like Deion Sanders celebrated touchdowns,  personally orchestrates team celebrations, and dances like an idiot while the game is going on.   And, in sourer times, we've seen him sulk (or perhaps quit) on the court and, worse, send Nike's henchmen to confiscate video of him being dunked on at his camp.  

This has been LeBron's public persona since he's had a public persona, and we've simply excused it.  I'm as guilty as anyone.  I typically ridicule arrogant athletes, but I've always been a fan of James.  Maybe because he is funny and charming, maybe because for all of his arrogance and self-infatuation he seems like a pretty nice guy, or maybe because he is just so damn good.  For some reason LeBron is a fan—and media—favorite, and it certainly isn't because he's humble. 

After nearly a decade of the James era, LeBron's lastest step in his inexorable quest to replace Michael Jordan in both game and image is neither surprising nor offensive.  At most, his act is a bit tired, but that's only because we've all seen and coddled it for so long.