Can the Real LeBomb James Please Stand Up?
By Cecilio's Scribe on May 05, 2009 with Comments 1
Ladies and gentlemen, we have a major dilemma to solve. LeBron James was awarded the NBA’s Most Valuable Player award. Beginning last year, we were campaigning for such an honor to be bestowed upon him, so you will find no detractors here. However, the MVP award is not what I am here to speak about. No, rather, the issue at hand involving King James is one of much greater import. It is arguably a matter of national importance. I of course refer to the components of the already mythical LeBomb James.
According to various reports, from a bevy of sources, the LeBomb James is an alcoholic concoction/shot/shooter created and consumed in honor of his highness. However, there are varying accounts on the Interwebs of the true components of said creation. I am clearly not here to debate the genius of those who designed a shot in honor of LBJ and integrated his much beloved chalk-tossing ritual into the drinking experience. That, my friends, is to be lauded.
Rather, I am on a quest to get to the bottom of the real mastermind and his/her recipe. The blogosphere weaves a tangled tale, and, frankly, we’re hesitant to accept Splenda as part of this concoction in any way. It just doesn’t seem right. A brief chronology below of the “history” of the LeBomb (based on our extensive research):
Not to mention, we’ve seen recipes with pineapple juice, one with Captain Morgan’s Pineapple Rum, the list goes on and on. So, we repeat our question. Can the real LeBomb James please stand up? The LeBomb James is a creative marvel. However, how can one be expected to appreciate its greatness when its true origins are in question? To quote another Cleveland legend (if only in fake life), “Let’s hear you, Cleveland!”
Filed Under: Uncategorized
About the Author: Cecilio's Scribe is the founder of The Legend of Cecilio Guante and a generally pessimistic fan of the Mets, Jets, Knicks and Rangers. A fine NYC-based gentlemen who hones his marketing skills as his primary trade by day. Husband, chef, father of a newborn and after-hours blogger by night. Proud alum of the mighty Big Red of Cornell. University. Hot sauce devotee. Staunch protester of the continued wussifcation of American sports. Sometimes I rhyme slow, sometimes I rhyme quick.



I’d like to order 12.