Taylerama

With apologies to Bill Simmons, let’s talk about “The LeBron Face,” which began as a clever joke in LBJ’s very first Nike ad, has made sporadic appearances throughout LBJ’s playoff career, and occurred most recently last night after LBJ hit two back-to-back three pointers in the 4th quarter, speed-walked through his soon-to-be-former teammates, planted himself on the bench … and … just sat there, staring out at the court, letting his soon-to-be-former teammates and everyone watching at home know that, no, this brief burst would not last and, yes, the Cavs and LeBron had exhausted their Darren’s Dance Grooves repertoire.

LeBron could win another MVP next year, and the year after that, and the year after that, and the year after that, and win the next six straight NBA Championships, but that look on his face, in the 4th quarter of a still-winnable elimination playoff game, will carry a lot of weight when it comes time to measure him against Jordan, Magic, Bird, et al. I thought a lot of things watching Jordan over the years: “He’s a little off tonight;” “He’s winning this series by himself;” “I think he’s trying to kill Reggie Miller with his mind;” “I think he might throw up in the middle of the Delta Center.” I never looked at Michael Jordan and thought “The Bulls are not winning this game.” 

In Games 5 and 6 of this series I looked at LeBron, his face, his body language, his infuriating insistence on settling for lousy 3-pointers, the way he stood off to the side by himself while the rest of the Cavs tosses the ball back and forth, and I thought: “The Cavs are losing this series.” Neither of these teams are as good as advertised. I’d be far more shocked if the Magic didn’t win the East in a convincing fashion than I was by the Celtics out-thinking Mike Brown and out-playing a supporting cast as overrated as the Cavs’.

What DID shock me was how the Cavs just rolled over in the final minute. You think Jordan, down single digits, IN AN ELIMINATION PLAYOFF GAME, would have shrugged his shoulders and let the Pistons dribble around on their home court instead of fouling someone? You think Kobe would have signed off on that?

If you want to plot the apparent Will-to-Win of current NBA superstars along an axis ranging from Dwight Howard to Kobe Bryant, LeBron can drift a little too close to the Howard end for my taste. I’ve seen Kobe quit on games, on his team, even on a Finals against the Celtics, but I’ve never seen him look quite as bewildered as LeBron does when big games start slipping away. LBJ gets sloppy. He turns the ball over (NINE last night! NINE!). He bricks 3s. He makes too many passes. He stops attacking the basket, and when he does he’s usually begging the refs for a bailout call (which he’s getting less and less because I’m not the only one who’s noticed this). Legends are made when the stakes are highest. LeBron’s two most memorable moments to date came in relatively low-stakes games: his OT outburst against the Pistons in a non-elimination Game 5 of the 2007 Eastern Conference Finals, and his buzzer-beating 3 in Game 2 of last year’s Conference Finals against the Magic — a series the Cavs lost. Not exactly Magic’s baby hook or The Flu Game. 

To an extent, LeBron had a right to be bewildered last night. Nobody expected Rajon Rondo to defibrillate his senior circuit teammates into a legitimate championship contender, least of all, perhaps LeBron. And in the midst of Mike Brown’s continued mismanagement of the mediocre players surrounding him, LeBron did record a triple double (almost a quadruple if turnovers counted). But that might have been the quietest, least-emphatic triple double in NBA history. In the second half of the biggest game of his career, the league MVP did not know what to do. Blame it on his elbow, blame it on his teammates, blame it on skipping college and a couple warm-up March Madnesses, blame the free agency chatter, blame Mike Brown (especially blame Mike Brown). As he sat there on the bench after those threes, with that look on his face, LeBron may have been doing just that. 

There’s a good chance all this talk will look ridiculous in a year or two, just as everyone who thought Jordan was washed-up after the 1995 Eastern Conference Semis against Orlando had to swallow 72-10. That chance diminishes considerably if LeBron stays in Cleveland. That’s the real choice facing LeBron heading into free agency. He’s not choosing between one city or another, his hometown roots or his super-stardom. He has to choose between being the guy leading dance routines on the bench with a group of underachieving role players who are just happy to be along for the ride, and winning, winning, winning. Kobe’s teammates don’t dance around with him. On some level, I’m sure they all hate him, for the same reason Jordan’s probably did: he pushes them to be better, sometimes beyond reason. LeBron either can’t or won’t do the same in Cleveland.

In Chicago he won’t have to. Rose and Noah know they can win, now, and for a long time to come, with just one more piece in place. Bosh makes the Bulls a contender. Wade guarantees a couple title runs until his body falls apart. LeBron …

After last night, I don’t know. I keep seeing that face. Don’t get me wrong: I want LeBron to come to the Bulls almost as much as I want the Cubs in the World Series and Lovie Smith coordinating the Raiders defense. LeBron, Rose, Noah, and maybe one other big free agent like Bosh, a young core like that while the rest of the league’s super powers are getting older? Insane visions form in my head that really wouldn’t be that insane: 70-win seasons, the “virtual eight-peat” of the Super Fan’s Grant Park rally song materializing, statue concrete being poured on the other side of the United Center. No NBA record would be safe with that group in place, no mythical sports achievement too fantastic to chase. The Bulls can become mind-bogglingly, historically unbelievable on July 1st. The Knicks, Heat, and Nets cannot.

If LeBron doesn’t see that, then no matter how many titles and MVP awards he ends up with, people will always wonder if he could have been even greater, if six rings could have been eight or ten if he’d picked Derrick Rose lobs over limo rides with Jay-Z, if he’d developed a low post game instead of sharing a backcourt with Mo Williams, if he hadn’t spent so much of the off-season on South Beach. 

If LeBron does come to Bulls, I’ll still worry about that face in crunch time. Maybe, two nights after getting booed at home, LeBron was just done with another lost season in Cleveland. Except, at that point, after those two 3s, the season wasn’t lost. That was a winnable game.

Maybe that commercial had it right. Maybe it really is all too much. Jordan didn’t come into the league as its anointed savior. LeBron didn’t have to dominate the NBA for almost a decade before people started making grand pronouncements about his greatness — he’d been hearing he was the best-ever-in-waiting since he was 17. Maybe LeBron expects his greatness to just sort of … happen. And when it doesn’t, we get that face. 

Or maybe after seven seasons of middling talent upgrades and D-League coaching, LeBron has had enough of Cleveland and its self-hating boo-birds. He’s only 25. A change of scenery, All-Star teammates, and a chance to make history could do wonders for his competitiveness. Winning changes everything. Ball-hogging, one-dimensional, overrated Michael Jordan didn’t win a title until he was 28, after more than a few playoff heartbreaks, and not until he finally had the right coach and players around him. Those same pieces are in place for LeBron if he too wants to change. If he too wants to win, more than anything.