Finding closure for Cleveland even in brutal defeat


July 8, 2010 is a date which will live in infamy for Cleveland fans.† On this day, Lebron James, one of Ohio’s favorite sons, made the decision to leave the Cavaliers and take his talents to South Beach, FL.† Besides the fact that South Beach doesn’t actually have a team, this was seen by Ohioans as a major betrayal of seven years of trust and devotion.† We pulled for him through thick and thin, we overlooked his arrogance, his childishness and his selfishness because he was ours.† James was the one that was supposed to cure the sports ailment.† He was the chosen one, little did we know that he was a fraud.

On that fateful July night, I was at the Winking Lizard tavern in Cleveland Heights, Ohio with a friend.† There was some doubt in my mind that he was leaving, but he wouldn’t do it like this.† James knew the history of Cleveland, he knew what we had suffered and to embarrass us on television would just add another sad chapter to the absolutely brutal book of Cleveland sports failures.† He even named his special “The Decision.”† Tailor-made to be another tragic sports moment for Cleveland.† Now it fits in snuggly right after “The Curse of Rocky Colavito” and right before “The Drive.”

I went through a couple states of emotion.† It started with denial “No way.† No freaking way.” Then anger “What is he doing!?” I bargained. “Please just let him change his mind.† It’s not too late.”† I got depressed. “It’s over man.† Cavs are going to get contradicted in a few years.† Browns are awful.† Indians are terrible.† What do I have to look forward to?” And finally, to more anger. “Screw it, I’m burning his jersey” And that’s where I remained for five months afterwards, bitter and angry.† Willing to rant to anyone who would listen about how terrible he is and how awful a human being he is.† While fellow Clevelanders listened and agreed, my out of town friends would just respond with the same thing: “Just get over it Ben.”† How was I supposed to do that?† How was I supposed to move on when the guy who was supposed to help save the city had just cut and run on us?

I figured that out on last Thursday night.† When he first declared that he was leaving, I was dead set on seeing James’s first game back home.† It was going to be a riot, why wouldn’t I want to be there?† A friend of mine cautioned me about it “Man, I don’t want to go to that game.† First, I don’t want to be arrested and second I don’t want to see the team get blown out and have James score like 30 on us.”†† Ooh.† That’s a pretty good reason. Without James, the Cavs are a bunch of role players with no leader.† A decent collection of talent, but a team that was made to fit Lebron’s talents.† So, after watching the first few games of the season, I realized that this team, would probably get smashed by the Heat, even with their early season struggles.

Over Thanksgiving break, my friend Ramsey Kincannon mentioned that he had found some reasonably priced tickets to the game and invited me.† I laughed.† I said, “There’s no way.† I don’t want to be arrested, it won’t be that fun.” But what I really didn’t want to see was my Cavs get blown out on national television.† I did not have a choice in the matter.† As both Ramsey and my friend Jason Filatov berated me for 15 minutes in Lowry until I finally agreed to come with them.† While the game was awful, and I was totally crushed when James scored 38, I finally found closure.

During the pregame introduction the entire audience booed James for a full minute. I booed as loud as I possibly could, and joined in for every chant.† From the creative “Akron hates you to the vulgar “who’s your daddy?” I left the game saddened that the Cavs couldn’t get up for this game and let down a fired up Cleveland crowd, but I had peace of mind.† I was still angry at him, and will be until he retires, but I could finally move on.† The day after the game I finally put away the burned up James jersey I had. I didn’t need it anymore; I finally got my rage and venom out.