Lincicome: For the greatest of athletes, it’s so hard to say goodbye
The winged chariot at LeBron James’ back sputters, awaiting only James’ nod to get up to speed. Still gifted with indecision, James will leave when he leaves, unpushed and unembarrassed, still the beard of basketball.
It is time, of course, past time for summing up, for taking bows, for saying thanks. All of that will come when James allows it, there being no sell-by date for the Second Greatest of All Time.
What would that make James, SGOAT?
There will always be Michael Jordan there for James, as Jack Nicklaus is for Tiger Woods, as Tom Brady is for everyone else. Although James did self-designate his GOATness when he was younger, general opinion pretty much settled on “Prove it.”
Now 41 and wiser, James has made his case very well and will leave judgments to bar stools and podcasts, where such things belong, in no hurry to adjudicate.
James passed through Chicago a few days ago without raising regret or great curiosity, playing decently under Jordan’s banner, playing better at his age, to be honest, than did Jordan, who ended as a curiosity piece in Washington.
A few days later in Cleveland, still more than less home for the itinerant James, he took the bows he deserved, shed a tear and hinted that he may never be back.
Pending what happens with ego and denial, James is leaving with remarkable dignity, not encouraging the marketing carnival that is certainly available with just a simple nod of James’ head.
Kobe Bryant allowed his final season to be hyped, as did Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, should James want to see how things can be done in LA.
The most wretched excess in the Farewell Tour business had to be Derek Jeter of the Yankees who spent his final year toting gifts home from goodbyes, the creepiest of which might have been the bushel of live crabs in Baltimore, although Jeter did get a mallet to smash them.
Jeter also got pinstriped cowboy boots from Houston. But that’s Texas for you. Jeter spent so much time waving goodbye he had to remember which arm he used where.
All of this is there for James should he wish it, and maybe he does. It is hard for great athletes to say so long.
Almost all stretch their careers as long as they can, wherever anyone will have them. Jordan is a good case. I remember writing when Jordan’s last unretirement was announced that I would have my head shaved and grow a soul patch if Jordan made it to the town where I was then working.
As it happened, Jordan did make it to the game and I was forced to Photoshop myself, reasoning that his playing was as phony as my column logo.
How best to leave? Consider Babe Ruth, who finished his career back in Boston, just walking away one day and sailing to Europe, not a recommendation these days, but still …
Brady, the GOAT of GOATs, did win a Super Bowl in Tampa, but he hung on too long, as has Aaron Rodgers — who would be a clumsy fit for the Bears but valuable if he wanted to mentor Caleb Williams — and let us not forget the sad example of Hall of Famer Tony LaRussa, trying to stay awake with the White Sox.
I recall Walter Payton, a year later than he should have stayed, sitting alone on the sideline bench with his thoughts as the Bears lost his final game. Like Payton, Ernie Banks got the valediction he deserved only after he died.
The more modern way is to have a traveling carnival, with advance publicists and organized shows, as much for the fans as for the player, more for the attendance than any other motive.
Sad ends inevitably await legends, and non-legends as well. What is best for King James to do? Quietly move on and let his legend enrich itself?
James deserves the tributes he is postponing, and they will come no matter his coyness.
And that brings me back to where I came in. What was the rest of that verse? “We cannot make our sun stand still yet we can make him run.” Sure, but just a bit slower.