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LeBron, Brian, and Me

NBA star LeBron James poses with his fans during a basketball clinic in Hong Kong as part of his China tour Wednesday, July 23, 2014. Earlier in July, James left the Miami Heat after four seasons and four trips to the NBA Finals and re-signed with the Cavaliers, where his career began. (AP Photo/Kin Cheung)

RICHARD WEINER
An op-ed piece

Published: August 4, 2014

I love Brian Windhorst. He’s one of us. But every time I see him on ESPN, or read him, or read about him, I can’t help but feel a tad bit jealous. Because, had circumstances been slightly different, I might have had his gig.

The story—based, as it is, on the recollections embedded in an imperfect memory, is like everything these days in Northeast Ohio. It revolves around LeBron Raymone James, a 2003 graduate of Akron St. Vincent- St. Mary High School—a school that sits about eight-tenths of a mile from the Akron Legal News offices.

In 2002, I had been writing for the Legal News for six or seven years. I work from home, so I’m not at the offices very much, but I do stop in. One day, Rick Smith, the editor at the time, asked me if I had heard about this 17-year-old basketball player named LeBron James.

I had, a few weeks before that, from my friend and fellow baseball coach Dennis K., the father of one of our son Elliot’s baseball teammates. Our kids were in the class of 2007, four years younger than LeBron.

I said to Rick, “Yes I have. I just saw him play a couple of days ago. What’s up?”

“Would you be interested in writing an article about him?” Rick asked. “We know someone who is affiliated with St. V., and we can get you an interview.”

Obviously, this was before the “Chosen One” cover of Sports Illustrated, before Nike, before the tattoos, before the Hummer.

I said, “Sure.” I’m always looking for something to write about, because that’s how I get paid. But there was another reason, as well. This story was right in my wheelhouse, because it connected with what our family was experiencing, with two young athletes coming through the ranks of local sports. Our son Elliot was a baseball player, and our daughter Rebecca played softball.

There is a special bond shared by parents of young athletes. At this point in LeBron’s career, nobody knew what a force he would become. There is simply a common bond that all sports parents feel with all young athletes in general, and especially in local athletes.

In that interest, many of our fellow Summit County sports parents dragged themselves and their kids to youth sporting events all over the county—baseball, football, basketball, volleyball, it didn’t matter. We wanted to see the best local athletes, and to see what we needed to do to get our kids to the next level.

So when Dennis told me about LeBron, I said, “Let’s go see him.” A few days later, Dennis, his son Josh, Elliot and I went down to The University of Akron’s James A. Rhodes Arena, where St. V. played to accommodate the crowds, to see St. V. play some team from, I think, Cincinnati.

Quite a game.

LeBron’s athletic talents were off the charts, as has been written about, oh, here and there.

But what struck me the most about this 17-year-old was the huge, irrepressible smile that he beamed from the opening tipoff to the end of the game. He only flashed his true athleticism here and there (I just remember one breakaway dunk, which was breathtaking), but I left that gym in love with that kid.

There are many a slip twixt the cup and the lip in sports. Life intervenes in the course of young athlete’s lives, and many kids with great talent never make it past middle or high school with their talent intact.

Even though our athletes were young, we knew that. We knew the odds were very long. But that kid, LeBron, looked like he could beat those odds that night, powered by the force of his happiness to be there. So, sure, I wanted to write about him.

I waited for St. V. to get back to me to set up an interview. And waited. Over the next few weeks, Rick was apparently trying to negotiate our meeting.

And then I got the word. Rick told me that LeBron’s camp had been looking for just one writer, to sort of be dedicated to writing about him. I thought that was kind of strange—for a high school player to have a “camp,” and for that camp to have some set of plans about publicity, etc.

His camp had chosen someone else, and that writer was the only person who could talk to LeBron.

As time went on, and LeBron became, in the words of ESPN’s Tony Kornheiser, “the most powerful athlete on earth,” there are times I wonder how it might have gone had I gotten there first.

I was never really told who beat me to LeBron. When Brian Windhorst began to publish LeBron stories locally, at the Beacon Journal and in book form, I always figured he was the one. If he wasn’t then, he certainly became that shortly afterward—to the point that, now, he is as closely identified with LeBron as any writer—some commentators even call him “LeBrian.”

But I’m happy for Brian, actually. I root for local journalists like I root for local athletes and musicians. It’s a part of being from here. Seeing ex- Cavs beat writers Brian Windhorst and Chris Broussard on ESPN makes me as proud as Devo and the Black Keys do.

As for our young athletes, Elliot did go on to become a college pitcher, but topped out there. He’s got a regular old job now. But he did give it a really good run.

On some level, LeBron, to me, is the still same as all of the local young athletes, from way back when up to today. He’s everyone’s kid, and I cried when he came back here, just like everyone did.


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