I find myself in more awe watching the current Lebron James than watching Michael Jordan at his best.
OK. I recognize the outrageous blasphemy in that statement, and I hesitated before typing it. I even thought about hiding it in a paragraph
like a cryptic message so it wouldn't be easily discovered. But no, it needs to be alone, because of its loneliness, hence the doubling up of random pictures between that statement and this paragraph. This isn't to say that the current Lebron is better than MJ; that is sacrilege of the highest Basketball degree. But I get a different emotion when watching The King. While I'm amazed with Jordan, I'm scared of Lebron. My attempt at substantiating this absurd thesis lies after the next random picture…
Before I get flooded with requests to revoke my sports opinion, allow me to explain. I acknowledge that said explanation may still be an eloquently veiled excuse, but I'll try anyway. In order to lay some sort of plausible foundation, I think I should start with AI. Allen Iverson is my favorite all-time player—yes, ahead of Jordan in his tongue-wagging prime. I feel like I have to keep stressing that I know Jordan is Basketball Supreme. He is The Best, and every time Kobe makes an offensive move, Jordan's greatness is more reaffirmed in my mind. (Oddly enough, the same happens whenever I watch Vince Carter play.) The reason Iverson resonated so deeply with me is because there was no one like him to grace the floor since I had started watching the game. Whether he was the best player in the game that night or not, no one could copy his style. Seeing Iverson was the first time I had noticed a transcendent talent.
He was someone that not even MJ could figure out initially—nothing about Iverson came from any of Jordan's derivatives. I relished in his rebelliousness.
His defiant step over Tyronn Lue in the Finals was a landmark moment in Hoops for me. It permanently cemented him as my favorite basketball player.
At first, I thought that me being more gravitated to AI and Lebron than Jordan was due to the fact that when Jordan was actively ruling the Basketball Realm, I was too young to really appreciate the finer things of Basketball—and that these two players are the most unique of the post-Jordan era. But even as I analyze Prime Jordan with a keener Basketball mind, and revel in His Airness-ness, I still don't have quite the same feeling I do when observing Iverson and Lebron. Watching Prime Jordan (and Prime Kobe, for that matter) is like watching a man alone set out to take vengeance on those that know he's mortal. His divinity comes through unceasing enhancement of strengths and development of faults to near-flawlessness. He's the living proof that perfect practice makes perfect. Add that to his free-flowing, spontaneous-yet-simultaneously-planned Basketball operations; and you have Zeus in outstanding tennis shoes.
So why does Lebron frighten me if there's already someone atop Mount Olympus? You may be thinking that current Lebron doesn't have many postseason moments; even if they're compared to Jordan or Kobe's first six years. He only has two, with one of them being in a Conference Finals victory and
one being in defeat and bested by another man's dawning of the superhero cape. However, with Current Lebron, I don't have that same reassurance that Jordan will forever remain The Best. Lebron slowly erodes that thinking with each move, each pass, and each annoying powder clap. It's not that he's so advanced in the game without having college education. It's not even each of his
thunderous one-man stampedes to the rim. I think the reason why I'm scared of Lebron is because he is the only player that can assume Basketball perfection without perfecting every aspect of his game.
The one "flaw" in Lebron's game is a consistent perimeter jump shot. He has a hitch in it, which means that he doesn't shoot the same shot twice. The way defenses are designed today, a perimeter player almost has to have some semblance of an outside game. This is where the fear comes in when I look at Lebron. I feel that he doesn't have to be as good a shooter as, say, Dwyane Wade because of how physically superior he is to…everyone. And when he does lose that proverbial step, he becomes, at worst, as quick as Ron Artest or Paul Pierce off the dribble. Then there's the underutilized post game that may reveal itself once he moves to New York and doesn't have a true center clogging the lane. His version of MJ/Kobe's turnaround fadeaway would then be a four-foot baby hook—a more boring but more efficient tool; and unstoppable considering who would be defending him.
Or, he could do what we all expect but still can't conceive. He could refine that jumper and be deadly in all dimensions for the next dozen years. Is that scarier than the scenario in the previous paragraph? I can't really say. But the fact that it's legitimately conversed about is a testament to what Lebron could be. I understand that
perimeter defenders could get away with a lot more in Jordan's heyday than now, but the tradeoff with that is the athletes are far more, well, athletic than in previous eras; with more of said physical phenoms in the Association.
There wasn't such a thing as Josh Smith twenty years ago. As Jordan/Kobe is the lonesome Samurai achieving Basketball balance from elemental sharpening, Lebron is Hercules—causing tremors as he harnesses his wrath in the name of Basketball.
The "Fear" Order goes:
I hope I fully explained myself in this post. If I didn't, feel free to let me know so in the comments. I'll answer any questions that you may have, and will stand by my initial sentence.
Peace.
I understand that posters are a part of the game; and that they happen pretty much on a nightly basis. After all, there's a site dedicated to the meeting at the summit of the rim. But it just seems that these dunks are much more meaningful—more disrespectful. There are dunks, and then there are posters that are very rude and could end friendships. The early part of this season has had a lot of the latter—for reasons I cannot explain. I understood the mentality behind Melo's dunk because he's one of the few star players that has something to "prove." But the others...I just don't know what or why those deserved that emotional abuse. Except for...
Mr. Varejao aka "Sideshow Bob" aka "Carlito," I know why he deserved to be dunked on by His Wadeness. He is a notorious flopper and annoyance in the paint. He routinely violates two Hoop Commandments. He's seven feet tall and takes charges instead of using his length; and always tries to take said charges when defending a fast break. That was the one time he wanted to be tall and he failed because he isn't used to it. I have no sympathy for him. You are forever in the Wade highlight reel with your feet over your head and your ridiculous hair flopping around. Take that.
I'm going to set aside a paragraph for the man with the best disc jockey name that no one can use: DJ Mbenga. Fun fact: Mbenga is well-versed in the Martial Arts. Well, I guess self-defense doesn't aid one in interior defense because highflyers are challenging him above the rim with reckless abandon. Not-so-gradually, he's becoming the new Shawn Bradley. Or, he's Dikembe Mutombo without the resume to worry about being dunked on. One has to admire his determination, but also frown on his low success rate. You can even give him the benefit of the doubt and excuse the Rudy Gay & Blake Griffin posters; seeing those two have rocket boosters in their legs and rise well above the backboard square. However, where I draw the line is when DMV product Ty Lawson rose on DJ like it was an insult for Mbenga to do even be near the rim. It wasn't quite KJ on Olajuwon, but it had the "In De Face!" factor that Iverson on Camby lacks.
These dunks—from Melo to Will Bynum—are a collective statement that interior defense is not like it used to be. Someone put Hasheem Thabeet on alert.
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