LeBron James Apologizes to Cleveland: We Care a Little, Right?

Image from the excellent, superb, much missed Wizznutzz
This post marks the first of a new contributor to Bleeding the Clock. He has a deep mistrust of "the Machines," so let's call him Mr. Spontanayus for now.

On the night of May 11th, LeBron James apologized for "The Decision." He named the Boston Celtics as a primary reason for taking his talents to South Beach:

I knew deep down in my heart, as much as I loved my teammates back in Cleveland and as much as I loved home, I knew it couldn't do it by myself against [the Celtics]. The way it panned out with all the friends and family and the fans back home, I apologize for the way it happened. I knew this opportunity was once in a lifetime. To be able to come down here and pair with two guys and this organization -- in order for me to move on with my career, that team that we just defeated, we had to go through them.

I find roughly 48 things interesting about those statements. James still considers Ohio his "home." He thought his teammates were so bad in Cleveland that he had to beat the Celtics "by [him]self." He considers himself to only truly be paired with "two guys" and an "organization" (read Pat Riley). He will not apologize for leaving, but will apologize for "the way it happened." Thus, James does not make an apology, Period. He makes an apology, but... : but my teammates sucked; but the organization sucked; but I had to move on; but the Celtics had a Big-Three. Whatever. James made his infamous decision on July 8th of last summer. It took him 317 days to apologize for "the way it happened." In between, he did this (@ 2:05), this, and, begrudgingly, this.

I see two ways to look at his decision to apologize now, after winning this series against the Celtics. First, he's a coward. He can only bring himself to grace Cleveland with his magnanimous apologetic explanation when he feels the exhilaration of victory. His apologizes only as a masturbatory symbol to the idealized persona of his imagination. Second, he's a child. He smiles with self-congratulatory maturity only in the safety of triumph. He knew "The Decision" was poorly executed and in poor taste, but he could not admit it out loud, not for a year, because he's childish and petulant.

I just feel bad for him. Watching him, he looked... human. He looked wistful, like he wished it has all been different: that his teammates hadn't sucked; that Dan Gilbert hadn't sucked. He looked like he had a different dream, but that he had resigned himself to his new fate in Miami. Now I don't feel bad that he has taken the second position on Dwayne Wade's team. I don't feel bad that he lives his second dream. I feel bad that the most powerful, most graceful, most dynamic athlete of a generation lacked the self-confidence to pursue his first dream. Well, I feel about as bad as I can for a guy who has two daughters with a woman he won't marry (read between the lines here), and makes over $40 million a year to play basketball and appear in advertisements.