Lebron James is gone. So what? If you want a team - or an athlete - that won't sell you down the river find a team full of kids who play simply because they love the game.
View full sizeCleveland Cavalier fan Mike Tricarichi of Cleveland can't believe that Cavs superstar LeBron James decided to go to the Miami Heat as he watches it on a big screen outside the Harry Buffalo restaurant in Cleveland July 8, 2010. CLEVELAND, Ohio -- LeBron is gone.
So what?
God bless him with health and a championship. He gave us seven highly entertaining years. Let's not lapse into some kind of unseemly civic post-partumlike depression. We're better than that.
It's time that we put sports in perspective, anyway. Sports are heartbreak.
That's the core definition. There are ways of coping, however. Allow me to let you in on a sports medicine secret.
Find a kid who loves the game.
My daughter started playing organized softball and lacrosse a couple years ago.
She fell into both sports, I suspect, because it's what her best friends were exploring.
Ten-year-old girls tend to stick together whether they're planning sleepovers, plotting summer afternoon escapes from their parents, or merely discovering their mutual extracurricular (shopping) interests.
It turns out the kid is pretty good at both sports, especially lacrosse. She's a determined hustler. What she lacks in speed and size, she more than makes up for in determination and grit.
She's a fighter and a relentless cheerleader for her teammates. She clowns a lot and is fun to be around. Her teammates and their parents seem to get as much enjoyment out of her antics as her mother and I do.
I'm lucky. She's my sports medicine. Recently, I've been getting my sports fixes from her and her friends – not the Cavaliers or the other professional teams in this town. Perhaps, that's not fair to her. But it's true nonetheless.
The reason is simple: She and her friends play only for the love of the game.
There are no ulterior motives at play: No jockeying for money or endorsements, no coveting of rival teams' fields, uniforms, or support cast.
It's just simple honest play. I can safely invest emotionally in these girls. I can safely root for them without fear that they will defect.
The same can no longer be said for professional sports. And that's why I'm rapidly losing interest in the pro games. That saddens me.
I'm realizing that my loyalty to the hometown team is scantly rewarded, and my allegiance is unappreciated by players who so many of us idolize.
A free hot dog or a poster on fan appreciation night from management doesn't really feel like love when your favorite player is looking to jump ship.
LeBron's decision to leave Cleveland, announced Thursday evening in an ESPN prime-time special, has nothing to do with my evolving take on the pro games.
Entertainers at the highest levels – like LeBron -- are mercenaries, who understandably maximize their earning potentials (who wouldn't), all the while claiming to be in pursuit of championships.
The shelf life of an athlete is unpredictable, so they must act in their own best interest. I get that. But here's the rub: Too often, it seems, their personal brand is more important to them than their team brand. And that is why it is so easy for them to leave.
And that's why, all of a sudden, the children are just as entertaining to me as the grownups who play for money.
It's hard to put your faith, your hopes, and your dreams in a franchise that is made up of a collection of individuals who will leave you in a heartbeat for an extra dollar. Carlos Boozer comes to mind
That's why I'm rooting increasingly for the kid and her teammates.
That's why over the last couple years, I've actually derived more joy watching semi-skilled girls play the game, then watching the performance of some of the world's best athletes.
LeBron is gone but Cleveland will survive.
Don't believe me? Go to the nearest playground and catch a group of kids at play. They do it for love. And they do it for free.
Children know how to keep play in perspective.
We should take a lesson from them.