Antidote to LeBron: V-E-R-Z-B-I-C-A-S
Overwhelmed by the joylessness of big-time sports, I got on a boat. For that joylessness, I blame LeBron James. For LeBron James, I blame myself.
Turns out Mr. James doesn't exist. He is a construct of the hyena media. A hypothetical. A mystic figment. An incantation. He is an empty vessel into which Nike and the networks and sports writers high and low pour our nonsense and our curses and our syrup. And has been since middle school.
He is a scarecrow stuffed ...
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