It’s me, Scott. Scott Raab. I think you might be aware of the book I wrote after The Decision. I dropped off one copy in late 2011 at your place in Bath and another at the LRMR office. I don’t know if you ever got them.
My bad on the book title. My agent hated it. My boss at Esquire magazine didn’t like it, either. But I grew up in Cleveland and I love the city and the teams, and like a lot of Cleveland fans, I was outraged about how you left the Cavs. Whatever your thinking was, and no matter how much money you raised for the Boys & Girls clubs, you personally disrespected the city and the fans who loved and supported you. So when it came to the title of the book, I spoke from my heart.
That’s the same way I read your Sports Illustrated essay — with my heart. What you said and how you said it lifted a lot of hearts, including mine. Your return is the best thing by far to happen to Cleveland — to the city, not just to one of its teams — in 50 years. I’m grateful to you. You made good in Miami and you came back home — as a player, as a dad, as a husband, as a son of Akron — to try to win a championship for all of us. I can’t think of a sweeter story.
So naturally I’m in town, to work on another book. I’m hoping it ends with me and my son at a parade here. (That’s the book I set out to write in 2009, during your last run as a Cavalier.) And if it doesn’t turn out that way, well, that’s fine, too. The story still feels noble, heroic. Mythic, really. Biblical, even.
Anyway, I wanted to give you a holler about this new book project. You’re in the middle of the Media Day scrum; I’m just down the road with a few boxes of donuts for my media pals. I did apply for a press credential, but the Cavs said no. No specific reason. I guess maybe they confused me with James Blair.
I also want to wish you and yours good luck and good health — it’s Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, 5775 — and, of course, a season that brings us to the Promised Land at last.
P.S. Feel free to stop by for a couple of donuts. You look thin.