Lebron James is not only a basketball phenomenon, he’s also been described with a maturity and loyalty beyond his youth. He’s been with his high school girlfriend for the last 8 years and he still hangs out with his high school buddies, even allowing them to be his manager. Who wouldn’t love this guy? Then it came crashing down. After the Cavs lost to the Orlando Magic in six games, Lebron didn’t shake hands with the Magic players. He went straight to the Cleveland locker room, is rumored to have said a few words to his teammates (something like, “We just have more work to do”), and he left.

What was his great sin? He didn’t shake hands; he didn’t congratulate the Orlando Magic and wish them luck in their championship series against the Los Angeles Lakers. Righteous commentators extol the doctrine of sportsmanship and accuse Lebron of being a sore loser. After all, Lebron is a role model for our kids, and he should model proper behavior after losing.

There may be some truth to that, but here’s what is harder to grasp: Lebron is a model for adults, too.

I’m willing to admit it. Lebron is one of my role models. He is the model of my childhood dreams.  I grew up wanting to be an NBA superstar. There was park in my neighborhood called “The Bowl.” It was a grassy field in the shape of, yup, a bowl. (Made for great sledding during the winter.) At the bottom of “The Bowl” were two basketball courts. I spent much of my childhood on those courts, playing pick up games with friends and with men three to four times my age. I spent countless hours on my own and kept a shooting journal, where I would document how many shots I took and how many shots I made. Each day I would challenge myself to take, and make, more shots.

I developed into a decent shooter, but I had two unfortunate problems: I’m barely 5’10 and have zero athletic ability. I had the quickness of molasses on a cold Winter’s day, and I could barely jump over a pencil. After my sophomore year in High School, I officially gave up on my basketball dreams. It was actually a very painful experience, fraught with tears.  I remember being consoled by my mother as I lay crying on my bed.

Which is why I have great admiration for Lebron. He is the model of my childhood dreams. I admire him, but I also envy him. “I wish I could be ‘King James.’  I wish I could be ‘a man among boys.’ Why aren’t people a ‘witness’ to my athletic ability?” (In my more rational moments I know it’s because I have no athletic ability, but who said anything about reason?)
I love him, but I also hate him – because I can’t be him. There are too many obstacles in my way. I know my love and hate for Lebron is a paradox, but it’s true. And it’s true for all of us. It’s the reason that we turned against him so easily. It’s the reason that we easily turn against all of our heroes.