The “A” story of the 2012 NBA Finals
is obvious: Lebron James won his first NBA Championship. Today, billions of
words will be written about things like exoneration, retribution, and legacy
regarding King James. However, anyone with a macro-perspective on LBJ and the
sports media as a whole knows it’s going to take more than one successful trip
to the Promised Land for Lebron to cement his place in history and achieve his
highest goals as a professional. After all, it was James himself who told us
“…not 5, not 6, not 7….”, and understandably so for an individual who could be
regarded as the most genetically gifted athlete in American sports history.
When I watched The Miami Heat
dismantle the precocious Oklahoma City Thunder this past week, I was honestly
bored by the idea that Lebron was winning his first title. In all honesty, did
any person realistically think that he was going to finish his NBA career
without a title? After the game, Lebron himself said it best: "It's about damn time." He was clearly the best player in the NBA this season, the
best player in these NBA playoffs, and no one was surprised when he was named
Finals MVP. Lebron finally played like Lebron, which is why everyone got on his
case in the first place. People just want to see greatness when it matters, and
Lebron finally gave the people what they wanted.
The strongest and simultaneously most
endearing narrative that jumped out to me was that The Miami Heat played like a
championship team. Their dominance wasn't just a result of Lebron's greatness,
his BFF D.Wade (the Scottie to Lebron's Michael), or the overlooked and often
awkward Chris Bosh. It was about all of the things that Miami lacked a year
ago: chemistry, camaraderie, confidence in each other, and unmatched will to
win. For players like Mike Miller and Shane Battier, it was about
compartmentalizing the pain of plaguing injuries and nearly two dozen combined
seasons ending in disappointment, knocking down clutch 3 after clutch 3 (after
clutch 3, after clutch 3....), and playing relentless defense against a group
with twice their athletic ability. For younger players like Mario Chalmers and
Norris Cole, it was about combining their youthful exuberance with the
pervasive maturity they seemed to draw from their veteran teammates. Even the
much-maligned Coach Spo carried himself with a certain patience and quiet
distinction, something he acknowledged as being a result of the turbulent 2011
season.
There was no "Big 3". There
weren't those tentative moments between James and Wade where they couldn't
decide whose turn it was to make a play. It didn't matter which line-up was on
the floor (Bosh played center basically the entire series), they played as a
unit. It didn't matter who had the ball in their hands, they were all
aggressive and fearless. It didn't matter who the open shooter was, they all
caught and shot with confidence and weren't surprised when the 3's continued to
fall.
At one point, my roommate noted that
this 2012 Miami Heat team was displaying the same will and desire to win that
the 2011 Dallas Mavericks channeled just 12 months ago. I regarded it as
"The Look Of A Team Whose Wives and Children Would Be Shot If They Lost
This Game” (Ed. Note: I’m calling
this the “Chris Benoit look”). An intense metaphor, but it's the most poignant
way I could describe a group of men who would not let ANYTHING stand in the way
of their common goal. It evoked the spirit of Rudy Tomjanovich's famous line
"Never underestimate the heart of a champion." It no longer felt like
The Team That Free Agency Built.
Every guy on that roster earned their ring, and the right to be called an NBA
champion. Except Eddy Curry.
- J Fonts
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