However in the realm of superstar athlete vs. rabid fanatic, “hate” takes on more of a cartoonish gravitas.  Hating an opposing team or a specific player is a time-honored tradition, in fact, it’s the god-given right of every sports fan to name a nemesis and then hate them for all eternity.  Many athletes interpret the boos at opposing venues as a showing of respect.  For a player to induce such a reaction by simply being good at what they do is a form of “good-hate” and something athletes wear as a badge of honor.  Then there is the other end of the spectrum, which usually encapsulates a player in a brick wall of self-imposed bad choices.  This kind of hate, although not as severe as true, real-world hate, is definitely not a sign of respect.  It’s a fire that pro athletes and their agents try to avoid ever igniting.  Owning the “bad guy” role in sports is a mask worn only by an exclusive group of players whose superpower is the ability to absorb the relentless backlash from fans and media and strangle it into an unwilling amount of admiration.  Although he tried it on for a while, this mask was a poor fit for the face of LeBron James.

During the 2010-2011 NBA season, James tried to accept the role of villain.  He tried to impersonate the arrogance of a young Alex Rodriguez, the bravado of Alan Iverson and the merciless play of Reggie Miller.  Just one problem . . . LeBron James is a horrible impressionist.  He’s not naturally arrogant, is obviously uncomfortable and awkward when boasting, and didn’t have the cutthroat demeanor needed to vanquish his opponent all by himself.

After losing to the Mavericks in the 2011 NBA Finals, James admitted to not playing within himself, getting caught up in the hype and making some very immature decisions.  But ever since The Heat’s premature Super Sweet Sixteen Bar Mitzvah bash, words alone were never going to be strong enough to delete the “… not one, not two, not three …”. from the cerebral hard drives of fans.  James was simply going to have to convince everyone through the loudest form of communication possible . . . actions.

So James developed a “post game,” something he’s been criticized for his entire career, and a good one at that.  He took definitive control as leader of the team, no more looking in the magic mirror for Romper Room share time with Wade.  And perhaps most important, his change in attitude with the media.  Much like A-Rod has since coming out about steroid use, James has stopped taking everything personally.  He just answers the questions with poise, and with the exception of one slip about maybe going back to Cleveland someday, he did not hand the media much kindling this season.

But what about his heart?  Was he able to Grinch-up his play to overcome the inevitable knockdown moments that most teams will experience in such an intense tournament like the NBA Playoffs?  The answer:  down 2-1 to Indiana, down 3-2 to Boston, down 1-0 to OKC . . . winner, winner, championship ring dinner.  James simply wouldn’t let defeat happen.  Single moments are everything when creating a legacy and to this point, James was lacking in the “memorable” section.  That is until Game 4 of The Finals with 4 minutes left and a tie score, James drills a 3-pointer on one leg that he had no business taking and puts Miami up to stay.  It’s the accumulation of those kinds of moments that morphs a good player into a great player, a great player into a Hall of Famer and a Hall of Famer into an immortal.  That “3” was a moment no one will ever forget, a moment that makes a champion.

Perhaps though, an even more telling example of the maturation of King James, even more important than the Game 4, 3-pointer, more powerful than the plethora of “and 1” drives to the basket, was his instinctual reaction to a teammate celebrating too early in Game 5.  As Mario “little brother” Chalmers started to rile up the crowd at American Airlines Arena with a good portion of the 4^th quarter left, his leader pointed at him like a teacher who just caught a student smoking in the bathroom.  He told him, “No, none of that.  Just play ball.”  That was LeBron’s “Anakin” moment.  Yes that’s right I’m going to make a Star Wars analogy here and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.  Besides it’s appropriate as The Heat were definitely getting the “Evil Empire” treatment in Oklahoma City for their introductions, but I digress.  In that moment, LeBron James was no longer under the influence of the dark side; the kid straight out of high school who thought he could use anger and aggression to take a team to a championship all by himself.  He was no longer the guy who thought he could just take a short cut by teaming up with other all-stars and dominate the league like it’s an X-Box game.  The circle is now complete, but not in the ominous evil way The Emperor says it.  LeBron is now a complete player, a leader who makes everyone on the team better not only by his play when the clock is running, but also by his demeanor when it’s stopped.

Now that he finally has his ring and won it with an MVP performance, supreme unselfishness and, most surprisingly, with class, fans can now continue to “hate” on LeBron James, but now for the right reason . . . being a champion.