A SLAVE’S TRADE

Most people seek after what they do not possess and are enslaved by the very things they want to acquire.   -- Anwar El-Sadat

Lebron James X - released Fall 2012

I like Lebron James and the reasons I like him are varied.  Most of the working class -- which James clearly isn’t -- would definitely leave their 9-to-5 "hustle" if a better opportunity presented itself.  For example, if I were making $75k working at Xerox in a damp Ohio-based cubicle and IBM offered me $150k to do the same job in a warmer climate, alongside my best friend, that decision [while probably not televised] wouldn’t be that difficult.  I would simply pack my cubbyhole and take my briefcase to South, Beach. I’m positive there wouldn’t be 10 people in the country mad at me for leaving Xerox and even fewer would consider burning my desk after my departure.  The homegrown Lebron James exit from the Cleveland Cavaliers was dramatically different. 

There has never been a player who has entered the NBA with the hype and hoop dreams of a Lebron James and actually exceeded the fanfare expectations, until now.   Certainly there has been hype surrounding many NBA players. Take for example, Patrick Ewing, who was the first-ever lottery pick, and the human version of the NBA’s Mega Million. In 1986, Gotham City hit the lottery and for over a decade St. Patrick’s Day had a double entendre in New York City.  While the not-so-Irish Ewing endured a nice Hall of Fame career, he was NO Lebron James. Wilt Chamberlain who spent 3 years at Kansas University and one year “touring” with the Harlem Globetrotters, because NBA rules (at that time) didn’t allow players to enter the league before their 4-years of college eligibility was completed. Wilt too was a highly-touted prospect.  In one NBA regular season game, Wilt Chamberlain scored 100 points -- a feat that probably will never be duplicated. And, Wilt was no Lebron James.

Sprinkle in a coddled Kobe, an actual King name Bernard, a very special Kevin Garnett, a White House-groomed Grant Hill, the wizardry of a Magic Johnson, an epic rebounder named Moses Malone, a fashion-plated, often imitated Julius Dr. J" Erving, an admirable, Admiral David Robinson, or the fabulously famous, Chris Webber all of whom entered the league on a red carpet fit for a King and none of them compare to Lebron.  In fact, when the NBA written words of King James are complete, he will probably be the best player who has ever lived (some are already making that case).  And, if you think that statement is outrageous, wait until you read your credit card statement if you plan to purchase James’ new shoes – scheduled to be released in the fall of 2012.

After an Olympic Gold Medal, an NBA summer championship and an MVP Award (his third); Nike and James decided to capitalize on this story-booked season by releasing a pair of basketball shoes that will cost (the north side) of $300.00.  This will be the most expensive basketball shoe ever; or nearly half of that south, beach IBM check.  This is America and the products and services in this country will sell for whatever the consumer market is willing to spend.  And, quite frankly, we could end this conversation right here.  But, if you have lived in America for any significant amount of time and you understand that all consumers aren’t created or treated equally, I want to thank you for your continued attention. 

Lebron James is a black man from a fatherless inner city housing project and was born to a 16-year-old black teenage mom who (at 41) was recently arrested for slapping a valet at the Fontainebleau Hotel.

Or, in short Nike’s targeted market.

One would think that a black man with the socioeconomic background – or dare I say consciousness -- of this prostituted targeted audience would never let his name be associated with such a not-so-subtle exploitation, during a recession.  It’s clear James isn’t my son. That said, one of the reasons I like Lebron James is..., he probably knows that a liquor store in Beverly Hills and a package store in Brownsville – while on the surface are seemingly similar – amidst a deeper exploration are vastly different. The store in Beverly Hills is more of a resource for a dinner party, while the one in Brownsville is more of a medicine cabinet substitute for infrequent dinners.  Neither of which really matters – clearly not to James, or Nike. 

The original shoe King Michael Jordan (who no one will ever confuse with Martin Luther King Jr.) was once asked to offer a comment about the black kids that were shooting and killing each other over his storied shoe line that were priced north of $125 (at the time) – forgive us for not celebrating in retrospect. Jordan to my knowledge (and I’ve checked) has never uttered one single word pro or con on the subject  – even while countless kids (some with their parents) were rioting in inner city malls, while others were found slain on the Chicago pavement with their breathless body missing his Airs.  A spokesman of Klan Jordan once said “black kids shoot each other over cars, why don’t you go ask a Cadillac dealer how they feel?”  Tough crowd.

The dichotomies in this and many societies are vast, complex, unfair, ruthless, sad and often times very intentional. Which should shift most of this conversation to parental advisory.  Speaking of which, the once famed California Hip Hop group, N.W.A. had a song called F@# the Police!  And, at face value, I know many non-rap fans thought that song was counterproductive, unwarranted or just plain ignorant.  But, if I told that person that some of the LAPD finest used to round up “suspicious, NWA-looking” young boys -- see the Patriot Act for a more complete definition -- handcuffed them, and rode them in the back of the police car, then dropped them off in the middle of the night in a gang-infested neighborhood and told them to find their way back home…, that song should now have a totally different context.  To many Hip Hop detractors that fact either didn’t matter or wasn’t enough to justify the groups lyrics.  Ironically, neither were the spoken words of Oliver North.  Both of which continued to plague LA today.

One day Lebron James will no longer play basketball in the NBA and his jersey will undoubtedly be retired in a rousing ceremony.  Hell, there may be a statue (or two) erected in his name, who knows?  More than likely, there will be plenty of parades in his honor, down city streets donning his name. There is no question that those same streets will be littered with the blood of kids that wanted to look just like him – down to the Emperor’s new clothes – even if it killed them. And, the most befitting question King James will ever have to ask himself is:

“Money”, was it the shoes?

1 Love,

Ray Lewis