The Frictionless Lives of the Meek

Dear LeBron,

A couple weeks ago I was talking to my grandma on the phone while she watched the last few holes of Tiger Woods’s victory at Bay Hill. He was up by five strokes, in position to get his first win since that moment more than two years ago when his status as one of America’s most beloved athletes evaporated overnight. (You can relate to that, of course.) Anyway, my grandma was giving me play-by-play as we talked, and when Tiger got to eighteen, victory in hand, she said, “Well, I guess he’s been in the penalty box long enough.” I thought that was a brilliant comment. Tiger has been in the penalty box long enough. And so have you, LeBron. In fact, maybe you—who committed no sins against morality, but only against humility—have served more time in the penalty box than you even deserved. America’s system of checks and balances worked: You orchestrated an act of extreme and oblivious arrogance and we the people held you accountable for it—wishing ill on your performances for an entire season, cheering Dirk when he put you in your place. But that’s all behind us now, or should be. We’re deep into another season, a season in which you’ve played incredibly, up there with almost any season by any player in history. In the course of one game against Portland you guarded all five positions. You also rode a bicycle to a game against the Bulls in late January, when the Miami Marathon shut down the streets. Yes, your bike said King James on it, but still: You rode a bike to a game against the other top team in the East and had 35 points, 11 boards, and 5 assists. How can we hate on that? (If I had any advice for rehabilitating your reputation, it would be this: Sell all your cars and SUVs and start riding your bike everywhere.) And your game’s hard to hate too. I mean, how can we continue to hate on a guy whose biggest flaw as a player might be that he makes the unselfish pass too often? After you took your talents to South Beach, I never would’ve imagined I’d say this, but you deserve better from us, LeBron.

Another Humbling Experience for Myself

Dear Dwight,

As you know, ESPN covered your trade status these last few months the way CNN covers major natural disasters—except ESPN stuck to the story longer. I remember in January on MLK Day I was at Dick’s Sporting Goods in the middle of the afternoon while my wife bought running shoes, and up on the big TV screen I saw an ESPN anchor ask Jalen Rose about you. In response, Jalen started complaining about our 24/7 media culture—before proceeding to discuss which L.A. team would be the better fit for you. I wanted to yell, Jalen, you’re complaining about yourself, bro! You've become what you hate! But I didn’t, because I was in a public place and nobody listens to me anyway. But as of last week’s trading deadline and your decision to stay in Orlando for another year, all that bullcrap is finally over, at least for a while. The Worldwide Leader has moved on to that other fascinating Floridian, Tim Tebow (again). And now that the chatter around you has finally tapered off, I’m hoping I can have your attention for a moment to offer a very small piece of advice. I have no comment on how you handled the situation these last few months, nor on your decision to put off a decision for a while. I want to talk to you about something else: Remember a few weeks before the trading deadline, when you played in New Jersey? And remember how the Nets fans, throughout the game, chanted "We want Dwight! We Want Dwight!" and held up posters and cardboard cutouts to encourage you to come to the Nets? Remember what you said after the game? If you don’t, let me quote you: "It's a humbling experience…I wish more people can see how it feels to go into another arena and have big faces and posters, it's a humbling experience. It's a blessing. I've been to every arena and it feels good to have a great reception, not only here but everywhere I go. And like I said, it's humbling and I really appreciate it." Well, my advice to you is very simple, Dwight: You gotta stop using the word humbling like that. I’m serious. The experience you were referring to is not humbling at all. Actually, it's the exact opposite of humbling. And in the future, you’ll no doubt experience many more moments like this one, and you’re going to want to use the H-word to describe those moments, too. Don't do it, Dwight. For the sake of yourself and NBA fans everywhere, please don't do it.