The King Reflects

When time ran out on the Miami Heat, Lebron James didn't collapse in tears like his teammate, Chris Bosh. Nor did he stay on the court to congratulate the Dallas Mavericks, like Dwayne Wade. He left the court swiftly and without incident. As he made his way toward the locker room, he didn't kick over chairs or shove away reporters. While he walked he calmly removed a wrap from his wrist.

James lost the same way he does just about everything: impassively, professionally. As usual, he gave away nothing. But for a moment I thought I saw a look of bewilderment in his eyes. Bewilderment that his plans could be derailed by something as trivial as basketball.

James came into the league as a teenager with more hype than any other player in the history of basketball and immediately set about fulfilling it. His game has no flaws: he excels as a passer, a scorer, a rebounder, and a defender. Unlike many other rising stars who entered the game young he stayed out of trouble. He's more likely to get press for an exquisitely tailored suit than for an ill-considered remark. Though not without struggle (he was shackled to a moribund franchise and hopeless teammates in Cleveland) his ascent to the top of basketball has been remarkably smooth.

Along the way he's built a formidable business empire. In 2005 he said, "In the next 15 or 20 years, I hope I'll be the richest man in the world. That's one of my goals." He has endorsement contracts with Nike, Coca-Cola, McDonald's and many others. The website celebritynetworth.com says he's currently worth $90 million -- nowhere near the world's richest man, but not exactly sweating it either. He has deals in the works to own part of a European football club and grow his brand in China. For all James' accomplishments, he'll never achieve his goals if he can't win a championship.

Last year I played more than a million hands of poker. That's enough time to see some crazy stuff. When two perfect cards fall, a 1-in-a-thousand shot, there's no shock, no joy for the winner, no anger for the loser, at least not right away. In the moment all you feel is a slowing down of time. Just after, a sense that what you saw was both impossible and inevitable. I think Lebron James experienced something like that when the Heat lost. He built a mansion only to see a basketball, of all things, crash through the window. Not even the King can control everything.

Or maybe I only imagined it. James gives away nothing.