Hypocrisy
It’s starting again: I’m supposedly a hypocrite for heaping scorn on LeBron James — because I too left Cleveland.
You needn’t be a deep thinker to grasp the innate stupidity here. For the comparison to hold, it must be the case that:
1. I was known and loved by millions of Ohioans.
2. My departure inflicted a significant emotional and economic wound.
3. My employer was eager to go to almost any length to get me to stay.
4. Folks all over the world identified me with Cleveland and thought well of the city because of me.
5. I left town in a manner that demeaned the place and its people, and ruined my reputation in the process.
In my case, none of these things could be further from the truth.
The real hypocrites are the morons telling Cleveland to ‘get over it,’ as ifthe place hasn’t gotten over it, or as if‘over it’ is best defined by some asshole who likes telling other people how to feel and act.
Every Cleveland fan can think and speak for himself, and Cleveland has survived The Decision and what it cost in terms of dollars and jobs — which reminds me of another flavor of LeBronic hypocrisy: The assertion that he does so much good for the community where he grew up. Anybody who actually believes James gives a damn about Northeast Ohio because he donates tax-deductible bikes to Akron kids is as full of shit as he is.