Are people still going to give a crap about LeBron?

Now that Dallas proved to be the Heatles’ Yoko, can you remember how you felt heading into Game 5?

Overcome with anticipation, right? 

Even though LeBron had proved he could disappear before (the 2010 Boston series), his vanishing act at the end of Game 4 was still mysterious. If you weren’t riveted at that point, you’re probably lying, living under a rock or being a wet blanket.     

What would he do next? 

Well, you know what comes next; a few more underwhelming performances from the artist formerly known as “King,” some hot Dallas shooting and Mark Cuban gently stroking the Larry O’Brien trophy as he fell asleep on Sunday night.

For the haters, there has to be some sense of vindication. LeBron struggled mightily and even handled is parting shot poorly. For James supporters, there is probably a sense that—after eight seasons—this is who he is. 

So are people going to give a crap about LeBron like they did earlier this week?  Or has reality surpassed lofty expectations? 

What makes an otherworldly talent like James appealing to a sports fan is the unexpected is always at play; the possibility for greatness lingers over what will almost always amount to ordinary. 

After consistently failing to meet the loftiest of expectations, all the mystery has been sucked out of James’ aura—or lack thereof. 

We expect him to come up short. 

Babe Ruth hasn’t turned into a folk hero because he was a common man that ate hot dogs and downed beers, it happened because he hit baseballs really far. 

I honestly couldn’t give a damn whether LeBron becomes more self-aware or less egotistical, as long as he realizes his full basketball potential. Expecting athletes to handle themselves with grace and humility is a waste of time. 

LeBron is dealing with the same type of thing Tiger Woods has since his saga unfolded. Both, because of media adulation and Nike’s big wallet, were child stars. You might as well call James, Danny LeBronaduce. The expectation that anyone like that could be well-grounded is absurd. Telling someone no after years of saying yes can’t end smoothly.

And that’s where LeBron stands. After being coddled by enablers and coasting on the narrative they created, James is being torn down. Unlike Tiger, though, he can’t fall back on a championship pedigree. Unless he approaches his potential, the self-anointed “King” will never cause the commotion that he did heading into Game 5; that air of mystery no longer exists, it’s, instead, been replaced by an overriding sense of doubt. 

People have given up on LeBron James. Call it romantic, but I’m not ready to give up on him or Tiger. I want them to get it. 

The realization of once-in-a-generation greatness is too alluring.