long live the king...
a week ago, the world witnessed something sublime, transcendent, inexplicable...25 straight points, 29 of the last 30, 48 in total...all on the road, against detroit - a defensive powerhouse...the performance would be described as 'jordanesque', a descriptor, a signfier gesturing towards greatness, immortality.
"king james" the shouts poured from all sectors of the sporting world.
i watched clips on youtube last night of last thursday's majestic performance...dribbling left, defender cloaked all over the king, pulls up, rising above the long arms of the defense, 3-ball...a dribble left, chauncey following, a behind the back dribble back to the right, chauncey disappears, clutch jumper...a step on tayshaun, through the forest, carving, slicing, re-emerging unscathed, twisting, contorting, game winner.
caught in that fervour, that spell, that voodoo...almost lost to me was...a travel.
travel?
the king travelled. not on the game winner. but among that highlight package, a couple of travelling violations i noticed.
who cares? everyone travels. no one calls it. whatever.
history sometimes falls prey to narrative. not too many people outside of san antonio want to see lebron fail. last thursday's performance epitomized the triumphant underdog, barking at goliath; it epitomized the single, solitary warrior overcoming the depth and numbers of the foe; it was the brash and vibrant inexperienced youth overpowering and overwhelming and undoing the wisdom of the sages; it was a coming of age, a maturation before our eyes, the progression of boy to man...of prince to king.
don't let the facts get in the way of history. we need these moments, carefully constructed and maintained, to reinforce the power of those narratives - those subtle ideological metaphors. teamwork is admired in our society, it is a value, an ideology...but beyond admiration, what do we cherish? what pulls us from our quiet dignity into frenzied screams and shouts and pumping fists? 25 straight - alone - victorious.
lebron went unilateral on detroit basketball - and destroyed them. there may be no "i's" in team - but phuck the team when you have king james.
"king james" the shouts poured from all sectors of the sporting world.
i watched clips on youtube last night of last thursday's majestic performance...dribbling left, defender cloaked all over the king, pulls up, rising above the long arms of the defense, 3-ball...a dribble left, chauncey following, a behind the back dribble back to the right, chauncey disappears, clutch jumper...a step on tayshaun, through the forest, carving, slicing, re-emerging unscathed, twisting, contorting, game winner.
caught in that fervour, that spell, that voodoo...almost lost to me was...a travel.
travel?
the king travelled. not on the game winner. but among that highlight package, a couple of travelling violations i noticed.
who cares? everyone travels. no one calls it. whatever.
history sometimes falls prey to narrative. not too many people outside of san antonio want to see lebron fail. last thursday's performance epitomized the triumphant underdog, barking at goliath; it epitomized the single, solitary warrior overcoming the depth and numbers of the foe; it was the brash and vibrant inexperienced youth overpowering and overwhelming and undoing the wisdom of the sages; it was a coming of age, a maturation before our eyes, the progression of boy to man...of prince to king.
don't let the facts get in the way of history. we need these moments, carefully constructed and maintained, to reinforce the power of those narratives - those subtle ideological metaphors. teamwork is admired in our society, it is a value, an ideology...but beyond admiration, what do we cherish? what pulls us from our quiet dignity into frenzied screams and shouts and pumping fists? 25 straight - alone - victorious.
lebron went unilateral on detroit basketball - and destroyed them. there may be no "i's" in team - but phuck the team when you have king james.