Lebron: A Symposium

David French: We’re All LeBron James

I’ve never met any successful person who didn’t have a little bit of LeBron in them.  Let’s divorce the LeBron situation for just a moment from the anguish of Cleveland fans  and think about him as — gasp — a human being, a young guy who wants to get the most out of his life.  After working for seven years for his first employer (a long time for a first job in any industry), he has a chance to live and work anywhere he wants.  During a uniquely enjoyable time (the 2008 Olympics) he made friends with two other young guys who have a similar background, and the three of them have a chance to build something special — and live in a fun city while doing it.  Moreover, it’s more likely that he’ll attain the highest level of professional success working with these friends.  He loves his hometown, but he’ll stay close with his hometown friends (indeed, they’ll most likely move with him).  Life is short, the opportunity is unique, and . . . the beach awaits!  To Miami he goes.

What is wrong with that?  After all, he’s only behaving like virtually every other young lawyer I know.

If you were to track my law school classmates lives, you’d see that we basically lived like we were “LawBron.”  We took a first job, but all the time we had one eye on the door, looking for the ideal situation, the new opportunity.  Some of us left the practice of law and then came back.  Some of us left the law entirely.  Most of us switched cities at least once, and not a single one of us works for our original employer.  And lawyers aren’t unique.  How many Americans work for the same employer their entire lives?  Why do we leave (assuming we leave voluntarily)?  Because a new job would give us more money?  Because a new city would be more exciting?  Because we want to be with friends?  With family?  If we don’t condemn our own moves to maximize our professional and personal lives, why the disdain for LeBron?  Does his status as a basketball icon somehow dehumanize him; does it make him someone immune from all the same hopes and fears that we have?

Honestly, it wasn’t until much later that I stopped being LawBron.  Nancy and I moved (the fifth move of our marriage) to Tennessee with our young children and began to put down roots.  I began to see that having my head on a swivel, constantly searching for the next (and best) opportunity was causing me to lose sight of the daily joys of my very blessed life.  The grass may look greener elsewhere, but our own transient natures and our own unrealistic expectations make the the grass whither beneath us wherever we were.  The grass actually grows when we nurture it and water it with our care and efforts.  

I was 37 when I learned this truth, but — as usual — I’m behind my betters.  The NBA’s newest superstar, 21 year-old Kevin Durant, recently took just one minute to agree to a contract extension at Oklahoma City (hardly the NBA’s most exotic destination).  He looked around, saw a city that loved him, teammates who respect him, and a financial bounty that most Americans can’t even imagine and tweeted  the following:  “Exstension [sic] for 5 more years with the #thunder….God Is Great, me and my family came a long way…I love yall man forreal, this a blessing!”

I wish LeBron well in his travels.  Certainly being LawBron had its own adventures.  But for now I think Kevin Durant has got the right idea.  I just wish I learned my lesson as early as he did.

Nathan Whitaker: I Propose a Law Firm Draft

My senior year of high school, I was coerced into a date.   The batgirl for our high school baseball team liked me, for some reason.  Our head coach corralled me after practice one day and explained to me, with surprising clarity, that I would be taking her out.  I started to protest, and he made his message even more clear, explaining that I must not fully appreciate the nature of his "request:"  I would be taking her out.  I don't know why I was resistant - it's not like I was such a charming conversationalist that anyone else was knocking down my door to go out with me. 

(As it is, I keep waiting for the day when my wife finally admits that she's only with me because she lost a bet at some point.  It'll be sixteen years of marriage next month, but I'm still waiting.)

I didn't have to be told, but Coach Banes made it clear that I would be nice, respectful, and act like the date was my idea.   We went to dinner and saw "Pretty in Pink" in the theater.   The date was fine, and even though we didn't have a repeat engagement, things never got awkward.  I had been taught that there are times in life where you don't always end up in the situation that you had hoped for, but how you handle that situation made all the difference.  

Especially when others' feelings are involved.

To me, that's what Lebron missed in his decision to leave the Cavs for the Heat.  I don't care that he left - part of the American Dream is having options.  He worked hard enough, and was good enough, to have options.  

(If the Cavs truly believed that he "quit" in the playoffs, I doubt they would have offered him $120 million to stay.  Maybe they would have - but I doubt that you make enough money to buy an NBA team by giving employees who "quit" that kind of coin.)

I think any of us can appreciate that he left.  I like to imagine a world in which law firms drafted law students as they graduate - or, if they're brilliant and on law review, they could come out of law school a year early for the Law Firm Draft.  Some who were drafted by their hometown firms would be thrilled, while others that I knew in school wanted to go off and live in other places, and took less in salary to do just that.  I get that - we probably all do.  You work hard enough, you get options.

To me, it's all about how you do it.  The build-up, the hour-long special, the public interview...  There's something to be said about giving bad news privately and not embarrassing anyone in the process, in giving them a chance to deal with the news before they have to face the world.  When you do it in public, with a worldwide audience, that moment of grace is gone.

(Once again for me, "Hoosiers" captures important lessons in life - as George says to Coach Dale when Coach throws him out of the first practice in front of the team in that great flick, "Look, mister, there's... two kinds of dumb, uh... guy that gets naked and runs out in the snow and barks at the moon, and, uh, guy who does the same thing in my living room. First one don't matter, the second one you're kinda forced to deal with.")

Look, my wife and I were in Miami when Lebron made the announcement.  South Beach isn't exactly my style, but I can see the appeal.  And I can appreciate wanting to play with friends, and so on.  I don't begrudge him or his decision-making.  

It's his decision-informing that needs work.

Greg Whiteley: It Shows a Lack of Love and Courage

This summer, while reading Sebastian Junger’s excellent book War I ran across the following quote from J. Glenn Gary:

"The Coward's fear of death stems in large part from his incapacity to 

love anything but his own body.  The inability to participate in 

other's lives stands in the way of his developing any inner resources 

sufficient to overcome the terror of death."

This, of course caused me to think of Lebron James.  To watch Lebron play over the last 8 years caused me to hope, perhaps, that he was better and wiser than his years would suggest.  Thursday was a sobering disappointment.  During the now famous ill conceived hour long special, Lebron is shown a fan burning his jersey and for a split second he seemed honestly surprised and even taken back.  How is that possible?

How can a person born and raised in and around Cleveland and who had weeks to prepare for the announcement not prepare himself--or even appear to know--what this would mean to Cleveland fans?  To drive his Escalade through Cleveland and see 30 foot billboards, countless kids wearing his jersey and not be humbled or even cognizant of what he meant to the city?  I have no problem with his choice to play in Miami.  Frankly, I will be among the many who will be anxious to see Bosh and Wade play with him.  Further, I will be quietly hoping Riley  comes out of retirement to resurrect the Showtime Lakers. 

However, the callousness of this announcement is systemic of a selfishness that perhaps gives us a clue as to why he chose to play with Wade and Bosh to begin with.  He lacks the love that produces the kind of courage  that wins championships at home on his own.

Jean Kingston: LeBron Could Learn a Thing From Owen

My son Christopher has a great friend named Owen, a fun and polite ten year-old soccer player who’s gifted with speed, skill, agility and creativity (all the attributes that top soccer players need).   The boys began their friendship on the field, both having made the same team a year ago but their friendship grew to sleepovers, watching soccer on TV, raucous games running around the house pelting each other with balls and just hanging out.

When try-outs for next year’s team came this spring, Owen tried out for his current team, and another one that his cousin played for which  was more successful and closer to his house.  When it came time to choose, Owen wavered.  He felt loyal to his current coach and teammates and a special loyalty to his pal Christopher. 

After an agonizing week, he chose the closer, more successful team.  The last thing he wanted to do was make a big display of his decision, so, notes were written about how grateful he was for his former team and how much he had learned.  He invited Christopher to talk and watch World Cup games together.  Though Christopher was sad because he wanted to continue playing soccer with his friend, the pain was mitigated because of Owen’s sincere effort and attitude.  

LeBron could learn a thing or two from our friend Owen who handled his decision with greater responsibility and social aplomb than a grown man.  LeBron rubbed salt into the open wounds of all his loyal Cleveland fans when he chose to make his announcement into a circus event.

LeBron gained a big and ecstatic following in Miami (and he just might have that NBA Championship Ring on his finger next year), but had he announced things more selflessly, his outcome could have been more like Owen’s – with everyone’s respect and well wishes.

Tom Walsh: It’s Generational

For earlier generations, there was Pearl Harbor, or the JFK assassination, or 9/11. Now the Millennial Generation has its formative trauma: The Decision. Unlike the others, it came with fair warning, thanks to ESPN.

I'm part of the seemingly vast majority of America that didn't care for it at all. But one of the more interesting lenses on the whole thing is this one:  that most of us don't get it because we just don't get the Millennial Generation. Rather than emphasizing the uniqueness of James (we're on a last name basis), this view says that, down deep, he's just another kid born in 1985 trying to make his way in the world.

Maybe Cavs owner Dan Gilbert should've read up on what it means to employ today's twentysomethings - this article could have helped.

Generalizations about generations are just, well, generalizations, but what are we told about Millennials? First, that they're not loyal to their employers. Because they're bad people? No, they just expect to change jobs frequently.

For those coming of age in a tough economic time, it reflects simple realism (though I don't think James is quite as concerned about job security as some). But another side of it is that members of this generation are especially focused on  maximizing individual experiences. How are you going to do that working in the same place forever? Another way to look at it: my career is ultimately about me, not about what's going to serve some company. Or city.

At the same time, this generation is known for valuing community over individual accomplishment. They're the Facebook generation, always wanting to be in touch with their thousands of friends, to be accepted as part of the group. So if two of your best buddies head for Miami, maybe you'd rather join them than beat them.

Yet, we're told, the Millennials like attention, and don't mind being the center of drama from time to time. They're okay with being a, you know, Global Icon. What was The Decision but an especially strange one-man episode of reality TV? It worked. We're still talking about it.

Of course, it'd be hard for all the generational stereotypes to hold, especially when they often seem to contradict one another. But most of us have observed at least some truth in labels like the Greatest Generation, or Baby Boomers, or Generation X. And all of us, on reflection, can likely see some of own generation in ourselves, in the way we see the world.

On of the most frequent comments has been that Michael Jordan or Bill Russell never would have done it this way, and how Magic and Larry wanted to beat each other, not be teammates. But whatever else we think of The Decision and the way it was communicated, let's try to see the world through a lens that may be quite different from our own but that may increasingly influence our own lives.

And if that doesn't help, there's always this:  however great your generation was, it took a while to figure things out when you hit adulthood, didn't it?