Every time I’m ready to think this guy is worth pulling for again, he goes and does something that reminds me he’s probably a real douche at this point. I’m talking about Lebron “The King” James.
Despite his missteps, I was a longtime LBJ fan. I was always all about LBJ and buying into how composed and grounded he was all things considered. I still can’t get over his talent and what he’s doing on the court this year. It’s really unbelievable.
But when the whole Cleveland debacle happened a few years ago, with his lack of acknowledgement to those fans and that city (not critiquing the decision itself), I swung me back to the this-guy’s-a-di*k side of the street. Oh yes, and the whole spectacle of the thing notwithstanding. Well, he was making it back from that snafu in my mind. Winning helps. A seemingly more mature attitude.
Then, a simple photo can get you thinking again. Like the one above, accompanied by this Instagram message:
Somebody call 911. The weight room just got murdered! Lol. Off day training. #strivingforgreatness #focused
Of course, @KingJames shared the same message on Twitter.
C’mon, now? How old are we? Plus, aren’t we trying a little too hard? The cellphone self-pic? Shirtless at the gym? #strivingforgreatness and #focused hashtags? Are we The Situation or something? L-A-M-E. Great, you were lifting on your off day. And??? I know, I know. I can already hear the legions…”haters gonna hate” what did he do wrong?
Fine, let’s just agree to disagree. Champions don’t strip down in flex in front of a mirror and post their shots all over social media. They also don’t need to declare through those mediums that they are “focused” and “striving for greatness.” The great ones, you know, just do it.
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.