LEBRON AND I: Tough as Nails

As I watched the Lakers v. Cavs game last week, it occurred to me that I have a lot in common with Lebron James. Do not laugh. I am serious. Of course, I am not the most versatile NBA guard since Magic Johnson, nor do I possess a single shoe contract, but if you look closer, you will see it. You have to look beyond our physical appearances. Beyond our relative abilities to shoot a basketball. You will have to ignore, for a moment, the fact that Lebron makes his teammates better, whereas I reject the very notion of a teammate. Furthermore, you simply must disregard the fact that Lebron has his very own T.V. commercial, while I, on the other hand, would exchange my left testicle for a S.A.G. card. I am not concerned with such minutiae.

So, I have a confession: I am a chronic nail biter. And, I hasten to add, SO IS KING JAMES. If you have watched merely one quarter of one Cavaliers game this season, you have witnessed Lebron absolutely devouring his fingernails. In fact, his nail biting has become so prolific that he is now a poster child for stopbitingnails.com. At times, Lebron looks absolutely invincible, and yet, when he goes to the bench for a timeout and furiously chews his nails, he resembles a scared boy seconds before his third grade talent show. Last week, Lebron praised Kobe Bryant by explaining that, while he felt he had similar on-court skills as Kobe, he could not yet match Kobe's killer instinct. Well, it is hard to intimidate opponents and garner the absolute trust of your teammates when, with 10 seconds on the clock, you are biting your fingernails while anticipating the final inbounds pass.



Can you imagine if President Bush bit his fingernails during the State of the Union Address? We would certainly have even less faith in him than we do at present....if that is possible. How about if your esteemed heart surgeon commenced chewing his nails before performing a quadruple bypass. This would not inspire confidence, to say the least.

If Lebron truly wants to ascend to the upper echelon of NBA guards, and hang his jersey alongside the likes of Jordan, Magic, and The Big O, he has to kick his nasty habit. NBA immortality comes at a price. You need not be infallible, you must simply appear as such. I do not know this for sure, but I would venture to guess that Jordan maintained perfectly manicured nails. Likewise, I would assume that Jerry West did not exhibit a facial tic everytime he went to the free throw line during crunch time. To truly become a God of the hardcourt, you must shed all of the habits, fears, and psychological crutches that earthbound men uncounsciously rely on throughout their day.

Unless and until Lebron ceases biting the very instruments upon which he shall base his legend, he is just like me. A true NBA immortal does not bite his nails. I bite my nails. And, for the time being, I am merely a legend in my own mind.

Homeless for the Holidays

Every time I pass a homeless person on the street, I silently wonder to myself whether they have a family? When I see a man walking barefoot through a busy intersection while clutching a blue tarp and wet wool blanket, and sporting a beard like a post-apocalyptic birds' nest, I will routinely "invent" a family history for him...like an E! True Hollywood Story, except without the celeb component. Does he have a wife and kids close by, perhaps starving and alone in the back of a van? Is he estranged from his family? If so, how does the family rationalize the fact that they are essentially allowing a blood relative to beg for food and struggle to stave off death?

Well, a story caught my attention a few weeks back, which speaks volumes of the relationship between the homeless and their absentee kin. The family of a homeless man who was shot and killed by a Mighigan State Police Trooper has filed a wrongful death lawsuit against the officer, just one week after the officer was acquitted in a criminal trial. The very family which allowed one of their own to wander the streets of Detroit without food or shelter, has now instituted a lawsuit seeking $10 million in damages for the substantial "loss" they have apparently suffered as a consequence of his untimely death.

I can just imagine the damages portion of this trial, as a tearful mother weeps for her late son on the witness stand, and attempts to convince the jury that while her son was NOT INVITED to Thanksgiving dinner, and routinely steals money from his brother for crack, his loss will forever shatter their lives. The whole country will likely be riveted by this trial, or at least those with close family members who comprise our escalating homeless population. If the trial results in a multimillion dollar verdict, you can be sure that the "families" of homeless men and women will pray that their non-prodigal sons and daughters piss off a cowboy police officer in a dark alley.