Love, BASKETBALL & LEBRON JAMES - 24th, Wednesday OCTOBER - 2024

I know I never talk about basketball, well any sport really but my grandma loved them. And because of her, I watched a hell of a lot of it. Winters and springs were filled with baseball, football, and basketball, while summer weekends were filled with Tiger Woods and the Williams sisters. We would also watch things from different cultures like river dancing, TV series like Mr. Bean, and movies on HBO like Indian in the Cupboard, The Sandlot, and Angels in the Outfield. She was the coolest person I knew.

She would buy me basketball, baseball, and football cards to keep up with the history of the sport and the players stats. Without her, I wouldn’t know sports or be the flyest nigga on this planet. I remember her trying to purchase me the LeBron James Nike Air Zoom Generation 1’s. She would always root for him. And rooting in style was a part of it. She had the coolest Bulls caps I had ever seen, one of the main reasons I appreciate vintage sports memorabilia today. Her teams became my teams, making our teams the Bulls, wherever Michael Jordan went, the Detroit Pistons, LeBron James and cavaliers.

Moving from the 2000s to the 2010s, I became a victim of the ‘LeBron let me down’ era. As I watched Michael Jordan’s ‘Maybe It’s My Fault’ad, the televised special ‘The Decision,’ and the flopping (a move that would later be adopted by James Harden and the entire league, shifting the rules of the game, turning the NBA into a three-point contest), my King would become a jester. And just when I thought it couldn’t get worse, Derrick Rose got injured, and nothing was the same. My grandma became ill, and my love for the game faded with her.

But recently, the same reason why I left the game has brought me back. I’ve found revival in the space because of the hate directed at LeBron’s son, who now plays with him on the fucking Lakers. Talk about a father’s dream, the Griffeys of the NBA, a sight my grandmother would have loved to see for sure.

Being in the league for not even a full year, people are expecting so much of him. I know that pressure has to be crazy. To be the son of LeBron James, you were born rich, you have the best of the best: workout, training camp, nutritionist, and blah, blah, blah. Though all of that keeps getting said, most of the hate you received is because you’re plugged. Ain’t that some shit? Everyone on this earth is hustling to live good, to help their families and friends live their best life.

He put the work in. he was drafted at #55 in the second round. but come on man, come on now dog (Boosie Voice)….duh, mother fucka. Isn’t that exactly what the fuck you’re supposed to do? If my dad worked somewhere, he’d better get me a job there. Fuck wrong with them? But as I digress, I’m a LeBron Jr. fan now. So when you see me, put some respect on his name. Give him a chance to show his genius. Happy belated birthday to Mama, thanks for game, rest in paradise. 10/18/2024.

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KEVIN CARTER - THE Hood PHILOSOPHER