I Don't Like LeBron
I'm trying to figure out why I have so much disdain for LeBron.
I actually liked him at one point. He always seemed like a solid citizen.
His talents are indisputable.
He ended all of my good feeling with one sentence:
"I'm taking my talents to South Beach."
In those 7 words he went from someone who's basketball skills were admired to a true villain in the land of 'Thoughts of a Common Man.'
And we learned that he donates money, and that he helps kids. And he sort of apologized for the grandiose display.
But it ain't enough for me.
Because I think he's fake.
There, I said it.
He strikes me as insincere as A-Rod.
He flops.
He starts all of his sentences telling me how great he is.
He gets every call.
If you touch him he acts as if he's been shot.
I want to see him fail.
And I hate myself for it.
I should be the bigger man in the relationship, but I just can't.
He's the only athlete I watch and think:
"Turn an ankle!"
On Friday night one of the Bulls players pushed him hard in the center of the chest.
All the things I've told my kids about sportsmanship went straight out the window.
"Take your talents to the floor!" I screamed.
At the half the reporter asked him a question:
"We came here to play basketball. We don't have time for the extra curriculum activities."
"You should have packed a book when you were on the way to South Beach!" I screamed.
Please, God....make LeBron lose.
Please! I ain't got much going here.
I actually liked him at one point. He always seemed like a solid citizen.
His talents are indisputable.
He ended all of my good feeling with one sentence:
"I'm taking my talents to South Beach."
In those 7 words he went from someone who's basketball skills were admired to a true villain in the land of 'Thoughts of a Common Man.'
And we learned that he donates money, and that he helps kids. And he sort of apologized for the grandiose display.
But it ain't enough for me.
Because I think he's fake.
There, I said it.
He strikes me as insincere as A-Rod.
He flops.
He starts all of his sentences telling me how great he is.
He gets every call.
If you touch him he acts as if he's been shot.
I want to see him fail.
And I hate myself for it.
I should be the bigger man in the relationship, but I just can't.
He's the only athlete I watch and think:
"Turn an ankle!"
On Friday night one of the Bulls players pushed him hard in the center of the chest.
All the things I've told my kids about sportsmanship went straight out the window.
"Take your talents to the floor!" I screamed.
At the half the reporter asked him a question:
"We came here to play basketball. We don't have time for the extra curriculum activities."
"You should have packed a book when you were on the way to South Beach!" I screamed.
Please, God....make LeBron lose.
Please! I ain't got much going here.
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