Is this the year 'The Land' becomes the Promised Land? LeBron James will give his all to make it so for the Cleveland Cavaliers, who play the Golden State Warriors in the 2016 NBA Finals.
OAKLAND, Calif. -- In sports today, players speak of their "brand."
Extrapolated far enough, it would equate Michael Jordan with the Air Jordan line of sneakers, from which his leaps beyond belief were launched.
In the same way, the Converse All-Stars sold by spokesman Chuck Taylor became known as "Chucks."
Soul reduced to sole.
Muhammad Ali never became some variant on the "Roach Motel," the bug-killer he endorsed, but you get the idea.
Something more is at stake in the second season of LeBron James' return to Cleveland, though.
In his current Samsung Gear VR commercial, after James rises to begin a workout at 5:34 in the morning, determined to win the One, True Ring that would double in national perception the two he won in "South Beach," he says, "Man, you know this is all about getting one for The Land."
He runs down Cleveland streets that are as gritty as those Sylvester Stallone's Rocky Balboa pounded in the first and greatest movie of the "Rocky" series. Then James enters what appears to be a basement boxing gym.
Fans will not really find James running down the streets and over the bridges around town. But from the bottom to the top, from the streets here, through those of the Bay Area, his journey to the summit could be an NBA rival of Frodo's trip to Mordor in "Lord of the Rings." (James could bury the bare-footed Hobbit in the paint, by the way.)
Significantly, James' likeness appears again on a huge banner on Prospect Ave. across the street from The Q.
The first one -- showing a cloud of hurled chalk dust hanging above his head, which was destined to drift away, as did the thrower -- came down in 2010.
This time, the name of the back of the jersey, where the player's name goes, reads "Cleveland."
Brand reduced to Land.
Moses and the Promised Land
After his signing by Philadelphia in 1982, just his name, Moses Malone, made inevitable the appearance in the Spectrum of fans costumed as bearded prophets, dressed in in robes, each carrying a staff.
The 76ers had seen enough of Darryl Dawkins, who was once their future, but who could not control the Lakers' Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, so they traded Dawkins. Then they maneuvered to sign Malone as a restricted free agent.
Malone was everything they thought he would be and more, leading the team to its first championship in 16 seasons. It was almost the "Fo', fo', and fo'" postseason he predicted, but the middle series took five games.
The (Promised) Land here?
Moses' quest, like that of James, resonates on two levels.
The first is that of basketball, in which the Cavs' future, in the form of No. 1 overall draft pick Andrew Wiggins, was traded for veteran help in the form of forward Kevin Love.
With the Cavaliers' 3-point threat making opponents' lanes open for James the way the Red Sea parted for Moses, it also recalls the bible.
Malone was the missing piece that completed the championship jigsaw, the fragment that made the whole, the addition that turned the puzzle into a Mosaic.
James' back-story works for a litany of biblical metaphors, from the messianic Sports Illustrated cover photo as "The Chosen One" as a mere high school junior, a nickname repeated in a tattoo on his back; to the story of the prodigal son when James took his talents to South Beach and then came home; to the puzzle of incorporating Kyrie Irving and Kevin Love into a championship mosaic.
Fifty-two years after the Browns' 1964 championship, Cleveland fans are still waiting for a championship in any of the three major sports.
Other than the commercial, James does not talk about his mission as fully as he did last year, only saying, "I'll give my all and live with the results."
Still, seldom has a championship pledge been made more openly in the name of ordinary fans than that of James now.
The diff
All championships are extrapolated by the teams winning them into gifts for the fans, payback for their loyalty and other altruistic expressions the team's public relations staff devises.
James' mere return, of course, is part of his legacy. It is the treasure room of the old pharaohs' pyramids. The pharaohs thought they could take the riches with them into eternity. It would work for a championship ring here, at least in the memories of long-suffering fans.
It's not personal
The 2016 Finals are not about James' search for personal redemption after his timid 2011 Finals, which was achieved the next year with a championship ring.
"We thought we were going to the NBA Finals. LeBron scored 45 points, in Boston! He broke our hearts," said Cavs coach Tyronn Lue, then Doc Rivers' top Celtics assistant of the sixth game of the Eastern Conference Finals, into which the Celtics took a 3-2 lead at home.
If hearts can be left in San Francisco, perhaps those of the Golden State Warriors can be broken in the Bay Area, too.
This year's Finals are about a star-crossed franchise's fans, who turned out in the four years of famine while James was away, who welcomed him back with open arms, and who loved him with open hearts after his doomed, virtuoso performance in the Finals of 2015.
Magic
When Magic Johnson was stricken with HIV, the virus that causes AIDS, almost a quarter-century ago, he never had a consistent basketball platform to help create AIDS awareness and demystify what was feared to be a plague disease.
The closest Johnson came was in his play on the Olympic Dream Team of 1992 and in winning a Most Valuable Player award in the otherwise meaningless exhibition that is the NBA All-Star Game.
Michael
Jordan's six NBA Finals and six rings will probably never be matched by the players to come. His cause was never any larger than himself.
After the validation with the first one as a winner, the others often amounted to visitations upon opponents, collectively and individually, of various aspects of Jordan's pathologically competitive personality.
These traits were most nakedly and gracelessly displayed in a Basketball Hall of Fame induction speech that Jordan turned into list of grievances, real and imagined, against rivals whom he considered inferior.
The Chicago Bulls' first three-peat began with a five-game rout of Magic Johnson's Lakers, making it clear that Johnson's time was past and Jordan's was here, complete with its soaring flights of the imagination and its smell of napalm in the morning.
Two of the other championships were devoted to denigrating Clyde Drexler in 1992 and Karl Malone in 1997, his top rivals in those years.
How the record-setters fared
Regular seasons reward consistency in performance and depth in rosters. In the playoffs and particularly in the Finals, peak performance and ruthlessness of focus are rewarded.
Defending champion Golden State enjoyed a record 73-9 season, but had to come off the mat to beat Oklahoma City in seven games in the Western Conference Finals. The Warriors are only the 10th team to rally from a 3-1 deficit to do so.
Two of the Warriors, Steph Curry and Klay Thompson, can score while shock is racing comprehension to their defender's brain. Such a 3-point conniption rocked the Thunder's always precarious poise and decided the seventh game in the third quarter.
Still, upsets can take the luster off glory years.
The 68-14 Boston Celtics of 1973 lost to the New York Knicks in the conference finals because John Havlicek played the three final games of the series with a separated shooting shoulder.
The 67-15 Dallas Mavericks of 2007 lost in a shocking first-round upset to former Cavalier Baron Davis and his 42-40 Warriors. Dirk Nowitzki shot only 38.3 percent and averaged only 19.7 points. It took him four years to get revenge as a Finals MVP against James' Heat team in 2011.
The 66-16 Cavs of 2009 lost to Orlando because Dwight Howard made his free throws (70.1 percent), and Rashard Lewis shot up the Cavs at the 3-point line (19 points per game average, 29.4 percent on threes). Stubborn Cavs coach Mike Brown kept James on Rafer Alston (12.2 points, 31.9 percent on threes), not Lewis.
It was as stupid then as it seems now, just writing it.
LeBron and the Cavs
The huge LeBron banner will come down near the end of June, to be replaced by one welcoming the Republican National Convention. Neither banners, nor sideline speeches, nor well-meant promises win championships.
Championships are won during play, when besieged by a "Curry flurry" of 3-pointers or when the Cavs' own barrages of them are belching flame and smoke.
But they are also won on the streets of The Land, by men at work.