When you woke up one morning from uneasy dreams, you found yourself changed in your bed into LeBron James. You are America’s best and most beloved athlete. You are so famous the President says he’s you: "I'm LeBron, baby. I can play on this level. I got some game." The press is literally calling this is the Summer Of You. You are 25 years old, and you are on the market. It’s good to be King. You report on the set for your first Hollywood movie in a couple weeks.
But alas, all is not right in the Kingdom. You just got bounced from the playoffs early (again) by an aging, banged-up Celtics squad. With a few passive jumpshots, your crown lost some luster. This is the year you fell off the Michael Jordan trajectory. MVP titles. Olympic gold medals. None of that matters. At the end of the day, it’s all about the rings. MJ had six. Kobe has four. You have none.
