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“Man, this is very tough. In this fall, I’m going to take my talents to South Beach and join the Miami Heat.”

Twenty-two words that forever altered the landscape of professional basketball. I remember where I was and what I was doing as they were not confidently uttered, and I know with a high degree of certainty that I always will. There are certain memories you hold on to; moments that get etched in your memory like marble; so ingrained that a thousand years of waves couldn’t wash them away, and THIS was one of those moments.

Such memory space is usually reserved for important personal moments; big moments, like your location when you were told of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Center, or the first few seconds after being informed of the passing of a close family member or friend. The relocation of a sports superstar doesn’t seem deserving of sharing a plane with such emotional events, but this was big, and the significance wasn’t lost on a sports fanatic such as myself.

“Yo kid! Yo! Your phones ringing, pick that shit up!” I slowly sat up in my bed, slightly confused, and began fumbling around the hotel nightstand, searching for my cell. Although I tried not to elevate my eyes toward Jason, my best friend who was occupying the other single bed in the small and stuffy Virginia Beach hotel room, I could tell that he was staring daggers in my direction, angered that I allowed my cell to disturb his slumber. I located the phone in time to pick it up before the last ring, and quickly found myself in a conversation with Carey, the head of a basketball-based website for which I constantly contribute. I was unaware of the time, although I knew it was early because I could not hear the common beach commotion that one is afforded with an ocean-front room.

“The internet is going crazy today,” Carey exclaimed excitedly, “we need a LeBron piece!”

“What kinda piece?,” I mumbled back, expressing about an eighth of Carey’s excitement.

“Anything; an opinion, an idea, what you think he should do, or what you think he will do,” Carey explained, obviously eager to have any LeBron-related article up on the site in order to attract some of this extra traffic due to his highly anticipated ‘Decision’ which would air that evening on ESPN.

I accepted, somewhat unenthusiastically, and hung up. It’s not that I wasn’t excited about the opportunity, but getting up early to write an non-commissioned sports piece wasn’t how I was planning on spending my already-truncated vacation on Virginia’s Beach.

Regardless, I began to write, hoping that I could complete an article before Jason awoke, inevitably around eleven, ready to conquer a day full of beach and beer.

I was still unaware of the time, although the sharpness on the pain pounding against the inside of my skull, a residual reminder of last night’s liquor, told me that I couldn’t have been sleeping for more than a few hours.

That morning I penned a piece imploring LeBron to stay in Cleveland, which was reflective of not only my wishes, but what I actually thought was going to happen. I didn’t really allow myself to consider the fact that the self-proclaimed “King” could leave Cleveland; his home town; the town that he held in the palm of his hand, without providing its long suffering fans with at least once Championship parade.

People like loyalty, I explained to my computer screen, selling myself on the impossibility of his departure.

I finished the article before Jason awoke, sent it in, and prepared to embrace a day full of beach-related debauchery, amplified by the anticipation of the night’s big announcement.

READ THE REST…

By Michael Kaskey-Blomain – KTR Contributing Author

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