Welcome back to BASKETBALLWEATHER. My dog’s birthday was on Valentine’s Day. It’s a family tradition to celebrate Faith and we got her some Walgreens bones that she devoured like they were messiah-flavored. She loved them. I love coffee. Major thanks to those of you who have been getting me some. 😊 It’s a joy to serve these essays up and even better to be appreciated. Please do consider tipping an espresso or two if you can.
Now on to the show. Props to these Lakers role players.
They survived trade season and have turned this ship around for the Los Angeles Lakers again, de ja vu again, for the 2024 Lakers who are finally playing up to their potential / the way their fans deserve.
No one ever talks about this because we’re all so busy with the LeBurn James of it all, but it’s got to be near impossible to play with that guy. For all of his magic on the court, off the court LeBurn is a migraine that no amount of Advil can solve.
Imagine you’re D’Angelo Russell for a second. Every day you go to work, basically since the season started in October, your name has been in trade rumors. Your contract has been dissected at nauseam by everyone, everyone knows the reason you were re-signed at the inflated number you were re-signed at, blah blah, something to do with the fact that your contract is easier to trade that way than not?
Now not only are you expected to play at a high level, you’re expected to be “a professional,” to come to every game in a Versace suit, a diamond watch, and with a golden smile burned out of the Kobe statue even though a Bronny Jr. sized cloud is hanging over your head — put up the kinds of numbers you’re expected to put up with ideal job security — optimal numbers that would make Daryl Morey take out his calculator, regardless of what’s being said about you or discussed of you in the media, often times as a direct result of your own teammate, oh who by the way happens to be the greatest player to have ever lived, and who holds your team by its balls.
Now go play.
Same exact shit happened with Russell Westbrook last year and we crucified him for it.
Ditto for Malik Beasley, and that white dude Matt Ryan who was canned within a few months last season, and all other supposed sharp shooters who come to play with LeBurn over the years and never reach their potential. Who shoot cold. I would too if I knew that every time I missed a corner-three off a perfect pass from King James, I might be traded to Milwaukee.
It’s what makes Austin Reaves, from Arkansas, so impressive. Alex Caruso too.
Nerves of steel. You have to have them to play with Mr. James.
And look, I love LeBurn, I’m not knocking him for what he does on the court, not really. Outside of being a basketball savant, he is the ultimate class act who has never once cheated the game. I’ll take that to my grave, along with my photograph of his chase down block on Iguodala.
But his antics outside of the rectangular lines, those are dubious at best, like three day old frozen burritos from Trader Joe’s, and have been now since, dare I say, the Pandeems?
It was fine when he was teenager/Jr./younger/youngish-Lebron because it was a winning formula at those points of his playing career. Teams sorta kinda had to put up with it, but nowadays, I’m not sure what it is other than a side show, I almost said slide show, a distraction that you may as well pencil in as an extra hurdle for any LeBurn James team to deal with when they’re employing the services of his Kingship.
Like it’s only going to get worse too. This happens with every superstar when they age. There’s always some darkness to deal with before they retire, the shadow side, for lack of a better word, that rears its ugly head: Lose, Win, it doesn’t matter, it’s like that diva walking down the stairs screaming she wants her moment in that Billy Wilder movie, “I’m ready for my close up!”
Welp, guyz, King James, I hate to tell you, is ready for his close up. He doesn’t care that he’s incapable of willing a team to the promised land by the virtue of his greatness anymore. He’s never been a team-player in the mold of Steph Curry anyway, as in willing to sacrifice the limelight.
Can you blame him?
To steal James Harden’s line, he is the system, and always has been. But what happens when the system doesn’t work anymore, yet the one steering the ship doesn’t realize it?
This.
A Lakers team that will never win another title as long as LeBurn is there, yet has to perpetually suck it up until the All Star Break when all players can finally stop living in fear of Woj Bombs.
Ditto for the coach. The GM. The Kobe Bryant statue.
Shit, even that 👆🏻 might melt from the pressure LeBurn puts on his teammates every year.
All of Los Angeles might go up in flames, or slide into the Pacific.
Get ready to add Bronny Jr. to the mix.
You think he’s not going to be drafted by the Lakers or whatever team LeBurn takes his talents to next? He might be the only one who survives trade season, LeBurn might even trade himself to make sure his son is safe. God bless him. Even though I’m a bit iffy on the whole nepo baby thing, I respect LeBurn for wanting to play with his son. I’d rather have that than the opposite, a world where LeBurn kicks his own teammate to the curb.
It gets ugly when champions start to age. When time slips and slides. The drama of it is irresistible.
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