It’s amazing really, the way LeBron James does it. The way he unfailingly lures cameras in his direction, as though they are magnetically drawn to his orbit. The way he latches onto them and keeps them there, the way he needs them (and they need him) like some rare from of mutualistic symbiosis.
Tuesday night, in the dying minutes of Game 5, he put forth his finest performance yet. The game was tied, he was sidelined with leg cramps (no, seriously), and at risk of forfeiting the foremost face-time of The Finals. The Heat were also at risk of forfeiting a potential 3-1 series lead, though that is neither here nor there. But fear not, LeBron is an innovator when it comes to camera attraction. First, he limped to the middle of the court, after heroically converting a lay-up, his face contorted and twisted and oozing pain, and then stopped right in the middle of the Heat logo. This will be a fantastic shot of my gallant self-sacrifice. The extra 10 feet to the huddle (which, for LeBron, is about 2 steps) were simply too daunting, too painful for him to consider. Then, he hunched over, gave the cameras a freebie, and waited for teammates to help him the rest of the way. (Correct me if I’m wrong, but I believe the first to his rescue was Juwan Howard, who has become such a self-appointed puppet for King James I’m starting to think he’s on hands and knees tying the Chosen One’s shoes before tipoff.) Then, with LeBron safely on the sideline, play resumed. Of course, you wouldn’t have known this because James was still in your TV screen, now trying on his “I just got shot in the kneecap” look, which was honestly equally impressive as anything happening on the court. Eventually, the cameras flitted back to the game action because of some insular contractual obligation, but LeBron wasn’t finished.
We next saw him being carried off the court, assisted mainly by Old Yeller Juwan Howard, who instantly leapt into action (his first of the series) when he saw his companion in trouble. The mask James wore now looked like one I might have flaunted a few Halloweens back. After this charade, LeBron began to incur some mockery and legitimate head-turning from a few NHL-ers on Twitter.
From Blake Wheeler of the Jets: ““I wonder what kind of face LeBron would make if he took a slapper off the laces?”
From Alex Golikoski of the Stars: “What a gutsy performance by lebron #not”
And my personal favorite, from Nick Bonino of the Ducks: “We get it Lebron, it doesn’t hurt when you’re running around but it looks unbearable when the cameras are close up during the timeouts.”
That’s an apt observation from the Boston University grad, and an important one in this whole face-time discussion. It confirms LeBron's level of savvy, of shrewdness, of seasoned “schemery” that he has developed since cameramen first flocked his way. He knows what they want, and he knows how to give it to them. And hockey players, ever the stoic, unyielding ones in sport, have the right to question his toughness. Spear a guy in the balls, and he might only blink. Bump 6’8, 250-pound Lebron James, and he’ll flail his arms, throw back his head, and scream murder.
Then he’ll pull himself together, wait for the cameras, and step up to the free-throw line.
Maybe this relationship isn’t mutualistic. Maybe its commensal. For there’s no doubt that Lebron needs the cameras, but do the cameras really need him? Do we really need him?
Let’s take it one step further on the biology chain. Maybe it’s parasitic, like the way fleas feed off human blood, leaving little red bite marks as their mark of gratitude. In the same manner, LeBron feeds off our attention, he craves it, thrives on it, and will go to extreme lengths to secure it. But what do we get out of it?
We get a game that has been cheapened by his embellishment, by his insatiable desire for attention. And he gets to look like a great American hero. He wins.
But by god I hope he loses tonight.
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