I’ve never been to Cleveland, Ohio.
I don’t even think I’ve driven through the city before.
But I’ve cheered on their basketball team for over 15 years now.
When people ask how I – a roughly 20-year resident of Lexington, Kentucky – became a Cavaliers fan, I tell them it’s because I was born in Ohio.
I leave out the part where I was born in Cincinnati and moved to Kentucky before the tender age of two.
But there is a reason why I love Cleveland basketball. One main reason. Just the very idea of this article would have never been a thought in my head if it wasn’t for the year 2002. The first time I saw LeBron James touch a basketball with my own eyes.
I can’t remember exactly which video or highlight it was that instantly made me a fan. It may have been the infamous “The Chosen One” edition of Sports Illustrated where LeBron is holding a basketball behind his head, reaching out towards the reader, eager to toss me the ball through the front page.
But I do remember being immediately captivated.
My brain as a seven-year-old is one I do not care to revisit – except for the idea of not knowing what lays ahead, the endless amounts of fun that LeBron would bring me, along with the torturous memories from 2010-2014, ones that I try to block out, but know that I never should. Not knowing what’s going to happen next has been the most exciting part about this portion of my life.
At seven-years-old, I didn’t know the next 16-ish years of my life would be built around LeBron James and the Cleveland Cavaliers. And while those two things no longer coexist and possibly might not ever again, everything that my life revolves around, I owe to them.
My first real, in-game memory of LeBron and the Cavs was during a game very early into his illustrious career. I had to go look up the date of the game – it was from his second NBA season on April 1st, 2005 against the Sacramento Kings – but I remember what happened.
The Cavaliers were still incredibly bad but finished that season with a record above .500 for the first time since 1998. It was early into LeBron’s career and this is the first time I began to idolize him.
But back to the game. I remember being in the basement of my mother’s house. I had a tiny, box-shaped silver TV. It wasn’t more than 15 inches wide, stretched back another foot or two, and easily weighed 50-plus pounds.
The Cavs were losing and they were losing badly. The Kings – who finished 50-32 that season – were led by Peja Stojakovic and Mike Bibby. It was probably my first time watching those two play, actually. They were up by at least 20 at halftime (after I went back and looked it up, they were actually up 21).
LeBron played an entertaining half – which is the best I can describe it through my memory, I wasn’t exactly aware of anything regarding basketball let alone how the rules worked, but I knew that I wanted to watch him – and the Cavs were down huge.
The ensuing fourth-quarter comeback is something drilled into my brain. The Cavs ultimately didn’t win – the final score was 128-109 – but after starting the final period down 22 points, LeBron was LeBron for the first time in my life.
He was hitting everything, setting up his teammates possession after possession. The lead was knocked all the way down to nine points with fewer than five minutes remaining before the Kings came back to life and won the game handily.
But that excitement I felt as LeBron scorched an entire NBA team by himself for over seven minutes, will never escape me. Sprinting around the basement, screaming and yelling about things I didn’t understand and wouldn’t understand for several years, I was officially and totally entranced by the aura of LeBron James.
A signed basketball by LeBron himself that my mother somehow finessed not long after that Kings game is still in my possession and one of the few things I will never trade away or sell.
I watched him score 25-straight points against the Detroit Pistons in the 2007 playoffs from a hotel room in Cincinnati. I have zero idea why I was there or what I did after that game. But I sure as hell remember him obliterating an NBA team in the most selfish, necessary, and mesmerizing fashion.
Then there was the buzzer-beater against the Dwight Howard-led Orlando Magic in Game 2 of the Eastern Conference Finals in 2009. When I woke up both my father and sister late at night as the joy of that shot falling in flooded my emotions, I knew there was no escaping the fandom. It was the most impossible and incredible shot I had ever seen live (well, except for this).
I never thought he’d leave Cleveland in 2010 but it didn’t shock me when he did. I remember exactly where I was for that, too. I watched The Decision on the exact same TV that made me fall in love with basketball, the Cavaliers, and LeBron James just five years before that.
Those four years he was on the Miami Heat were torturous. I made a decision just like LeBron did when he decided to leave for Miami – albeit, an incredibly trivial decision in comparison – that I wouldn’t metaphorically follow him to South Beach, as well. I was a Cavs fan. LeBron is who molded me into a Cavs fan and I sincerely felt betrayed by a man that was making a decision I would fully support if it were to happen again. Situations like that can give people a different perspective on life. I like to think that LeBron making a powerful, personal decision to better his life is what has made me do the same things in my own.
But back in 2010, I was pissed.
I was more satisfied when the Heat lost to the Dallas Mavericks in the NBA Finals in his first season in Miami than I was when he led the Cavaliers to their first NBA Finals appearance against the San Antonio Spurs in 2007. The latter occurred one playoff series after the magical 25-straight LeBronathon that mystified me in every way possible.
He was more than a basketball player to me at that point. He was my idol. I tried to deny that he wasn’t anymore. To this day, he’s the one person I hold in the highest regard. But even as my idol, I mocked his failures.
His victories in the following two NBA Finals had me cheering for players I never cheered for again. Players such as Joakim Noah and Roy Hibbert were atop my list of “favorite” players I was rooting for to take down the Greatest Of All Time. Joakim Noah and Roy Hibbert…
You would have been hard pressed to find a bigger Spurs fan in the state of Kentucky than me during the 2014 NBA Finals. Not only because I wanted LeBron to lose, but because I knew that a loss would give Cleveland just that much more of a shot at recruiting him to come back home. I wanted him to lose more than anything, but I also wanted him to come back even more.
I never thought he would leave Miami in 2014 but it didn’t shock me when he decided to return for a second stint in Cleveland.
Okay, it did shock me, but I felt more relief than anything that day. I remember scrolling Twitter at home on a regular day, then the Lee Jenkins “I’m Coming Home” piece unexpectedly popped up on my timeline and I just sat there for a couple minutes with the stupidest grin on my face. Maybe it was seconds but it felt like forever.
I don’t even feel like justifying my logic for accepting his return anymore, either.
He came back. To Cleveland. No one does that. No one.
The four years without LeBron were brutal in every sense of the word. From the tumultuous first season (one that feels eerily similar to this current version of the Cavaliers) to the multitude of sympathetic number one picks and unsatisfactory lottery selections, it felt like it could be decades before I or any Cavaliers fan would be able to experience the success of LeBron’s time in Cleveland. A young Kyrie Irving was nice, but not the kind of nice that leads you to deep playoff runs and NBA championships.
But then LeBron came back.
Pairing Irving with James – and Kevin Love – made the fans of a team that had just finished a season with a mere 33 wins the cockiest in the entire league. And I was right there with them.
All the fans of Cleveland ever wanted was an NBA championship. All I ever wanted was an NBA championship. The Cavaliers front office appeared to be the only ones who didn’t. The teams were never good enough to seriously win a title when LeBron was in Cleveland during his first run. An embarrassing sweep by the Spurs in 2007 confirmed that early on. The second time around, things got more serious – finally – and a bit more urgent from everyone involved.
I remember the loss in the 2015 Finals, knowing that without Irving or Love, us fans were going to see that exact same thing that happened from 2003 to 2010. LeBron against everyone.
And the end result brought back painful memories.
Then, just next year, the lucky hand was finally dealt to the Cavaliers.
I am perfectly okay with calling the Cavaliers’ 2016 NBA Finals win a miracle because I believe it truly was. Watching this team now has proved that to me. I didn’t even think about it being a miracle until this tweet by Brian Windhorst. But that’s exactly what it was. A miracle.
And that result brought back all the memories I’ve just described.
I knew after the Cavaliers won the 2016 NBA Finals that basketball is what brings me the most joy in life, even if it’s mostly just the feeling of relief. I had finally tasted the success I had been starving myself over for the last 13 years. I never wanted to give up that feeling ever again. It’s why I’m not bitter about LeBron James leaving for Los Angeles. All I thought I ever wanted was to call my team the world champions, but really, all I ever wanted was to enjoy basketball at the most entertaining level, and that’s what LeBron taught me how to do.
LeBron’s second return to Cleveland on Nov. 21 was what inspired me to write this piece. As he trotted out onto the Quicken Loans Arena court, sporting that legendary purple and gold, the past was seemingly forgotten and everyone was appreciative for all the good he did for the city – both on and especially off the court.
Sure, winning that title definitely helped keep fans at bay, but he taught everyone to enjoy the success while it’s here. I would never trade away that 2016 title – I’m pretty sure half of Cleveland already sold their souls for it anyway – just like I would never trade away that signed LeBron basketball.
I write about and obsess over basketball because I want to experience it at the most satisfying and enjoyable level. There isn’t a better high than that. But you can’t do that with hatred blocking your vision. LeBron taught me to understand perspective and appreciate this sport for what it is.
Pure fun.
I’ve never been to Cleveland, but I went through the same experience those fans did. And I’d bet a lot of them feel the same way I do now.
