The Tribune

By RICARDO WELLS

I WRITE this week’s column with a sense of finality.

It is my honest belief that tonight’s Game 6 will end the NBA season.

As predicted at the start of the Finals, the Golden State Warriors will claim the second consecutive Larry O’Brien trophy.

The absence of Draymond Green in Game 5 made it obvious that he is, without doubt, the heart and soul of the Warriors.

He will be named Finals MVP at the end of tonight’s game.

Now that all of my stances are clarified and etched in stone, here goes it. I have been amazed by the sport of basketball and those that have performed so well for most of my life.

In 15 cognisant years I have watched, the premise runs true - we love those that show us pieces of ourselves and hate those we can’t understand.

Up until this year’s season and playoff I have misunderstood and therefore hated a man that is often criticised unrelentingly.

LeBron James. Taken with the No.1 overall pick in the 2003 NBA Draft by his hometown team, the Cleveland Cavaliers, I have despised everything he has done without merit.

My appreciation for Kobe Bryant and my lobbyist mentality for his historic placement forced me to view “King James” through tinted lenses.

Every spectacular performance, I felt slighted because it was one more reason he would be mentioned alongside Kobe.

Prior to the Finals, as I moved away from my bitterly built stance of one or the other, I paid attention to LeBron for the first time as a person that played basketball and not a basketball player. There is a tremendous difference, trust me.

Down by 10 to start the fourth quarter a fan doesn’t see the humane side of his favourite player. A fan sees habits. A fan recalls the last place his favourite players shot from, his “hot spot” on the court. That area where the defence is lacking. The combination of moves needed to get a basket.

An objective observer sees only a person attempting to be their best at a sport they have dedicated themselves to.

The first round of these playoffs I saw LeBron, the player I have always viewed as a spoiled brat. The sore loser. Except I didn’t. I saw LeBron, the floor general that ran his teams offence from the wing. A 6’10 power forward, packaged as a small forward that moved like a guard.

I couldn’t believe it. He rebounded with the tenacity of a Dennis Rodman. He passed with the procession of Steve Nash. Also, he could score at will, and I do dare say it, a lot like Kobe Bryant.

This one player could do it all and I couldn’t help but be happy that I could watch him play basketball so well.

To bring it back, a fan sees stats. A fan sees the machinery.

An observer sees the performance. You follow along as if you were reading a script.

‘The Cavs are running through the east. Can they be stopped,’ shorelines - we read them.

Observers see LeBron encourage his team to embrace their three-point shooting in one round and adapt to lock down defence in another.

An observer marvels at the ability to morph and become what the game demands.

I spent so long hating LeBron I overlooked a style of play that transformed the game I love.

Over the last two weeks I have settled on the Warriors being the better team, but I have ventured into the realm of understanding the superior nature of LeBron ‘The King” James.

Crowns aren’t always given, sometimes they are violently taken - even if he doesn’t win another championship, he has earned his throne.

• Ricardo Wells writes every Thursday on the NBA. Comments to rwells@tribunemedia.net