Turning down Barack Obama, ‘Kanye West’s here’: Inside The Decision, LeBron James’ move to Miami Heat
LeBron James’ fame transcends sports, the NBA legend cultivating friendships with world leaders, business, music and fashion titans. But his 2010 move to Miami – and the controversial TV special announcing the switch – divided the basketball world.
A motorcade of shiny black SUVs exited Westchester County Airport and crossed into Connecticut, meandering along wooded back roads before turning onto a smoothly paved private drive lined on both sides with stone walls and large leafy oaks and maples. In the back seat of one of the vehicles, 25-year-old LeBron James sat beside 23-year-old Savannah Brinson, his soulmate since high school and the mother of their two little boys. In his eyes, she was the one thing more enchanting than the idyllic scenery visible through the windows as they eased to a stop in front of a house on an estate in Greenwich.
Wearing black shades, a white T-shirt and black cargo shorts, James stepped out and looked around. Golden light from the late-afternoon sun shone through the property’s white picket fence, illuminating the lush green lawn, pink and purple impatiens, and chocolate-colored mulch. A stone path led to the sprawling New England Colonial house. It was Thursday, July 8, 2010, and James had come to rehearse, have dinner, and relax. In a few hours, he was set to appear in a prime-time special on ESPN to reveal his decision whether to remain with the Cleveland Cavaliers or join one of the five teams that had been courting him for more than a year.
The world’s most celebrated basketball player couldn’t foresee that by the end of the night he would be the most hated athlete in all of sports. More than a half dozen people poured out of the other vehicles, including two of his best friends, Maverick Carter, 29 and Rich Paul, 28. They were among the handful of people who knew James’s plans. Carter and Paul, along with James’s chief of staff, Randy Mims, 31, had been with the famous basketballer since his senior year of high school in Akron, Ohio, when he had asked the three of them to come work for him, to be his inner circle.
Smart, ambitious, and fiercely loyal to each other, they and James called themselves “the Four Horsemen”. Mims hadn’t joined them on this trip, but Carter and Paul followed James down the stone path toward the house, walking with a swagger. Especially Carter. James’s business partner and an aspiring mogul, he was the one who had advised James to announce his decision in such an audacious way. James was the only athlete in America with the muscle to get ESPN’s president, John Skipper, to green-light an hour for his own show. And Carter relished the idea of James using that muscle to do something more revolutionary than merely exercising his right as a free agent to choose one team over another. Rather, James was about to issue what amounted to a declaration of independence from the economic grip of team owners, from the filters that journalists at traditional media platforms put on him, and from the overall power dynamic that historically kept athletes – especially black athletes – in their place.
Paul, a savvy character who aspired to becoming a sports agent, was uneasy over the way the decision was being announced. But he agreed with Carter on one thing: LeBron James was about to wreck the status quo. Brimming with confidence, the basketball star took in the moment with his friends. He recognised how much leverage he possessed. In seven seasons in Cleveland he had done things that no basketball player – not even Michael Jordan – had done. Ordained “the Chosen One” on the cover of Sports Illustrated during his junior year of high school and signed to a $90 million shoe contract by Nike before graduating, James entered the NBA at age 18 and promptly become the youngest and fastest player in league history to reach the collective milestones of 10,000 points, 2500 rebounds, 2500 assists, 700 steals and 300 blocks. He was on pace to become the most prolific scorer-playmaker the game had ever seen. In 2004, at 19, he became the youngest NBA player to make the US Olympic basketball roster, and in 2008, at 23, he won a gold medal. In the same year, he produced his first film through his newly formed production company, signed his first book contract, and went into business with Dr Dre and Jimmy Iovine at Beats Electronics, which was later acquired by Apple.
He also cultivated friendships with two of the richest men in the world, Warren Buffett and Bill Gates, both of whom were impressed with the cadre of sophisticated bankers and lawyers who were advising James and his inner circle. Of James, Buffett said, “If he were an IPO, I’d buy in.”
By July 2010, James’s estimated $50 million in annual earnings from his basketball salary and endorsement deals were just part of his burgeoning portfolio. His worth was on track to crest $1 billion within the coming decade. There had never been a billionaire playing professional team sports in America. James was determined to be the first. He had even eclipsed Tiger Woods as Nike’s most valuable brand ambassador. When Woods had crashed his SUV into a neighbour’s tree and seen his reputation crumble in a sensational adultery scandal the previous year, corporations dropped the golfer and increasingly gravitated toward James. American Express, McDonald’s, Coca-Cola, and Walmart embraced the authenticity of James’s devotion to family and his unrelenting commitment to his Akron roots.
Meanwhile, his global fame already transcended sports. Performing with Jay-Z, campaigning for Barack Obama, dining with Anna Wintour, doing a photo shoot with Annie Leibovitz and Gisele, and starting his own foundation, James ventured into politics, fashion, mass media, and philanthropy before his 25th birthday. In a recent one-year span, he was profiled on the CBS show 60 Minutes and appeared on the covers of Vogue, Time, Esquire and GQ. According to a leading celebrity index, James had surpassed Jay-Z in popularity. And Nike made James into a global icon through TV commercials that showcased his abilities as an actor and comedian. Across the world, James became a household name.
About the only thing James hadn’t done was win an NBA championship. But that, he had determined, was about to change. For more than a year he’d been clear that when his contract with the Cavaliers expired after the 2009-2010 season, he would look at his options and sign with the outfit that was best equipped to field a team capable of winning rings. Everyone wanted in. New York mayor Michael Bloomberg went as far as launching the “C’mon LeBron” campaign, putting up digital messages in Times Square and running ads on the mini-screens of taxicabs in hopes that James would join the New York Knicks. A Russian billionaire who owned the Brooklyn Nets tried to lure him by sharing his vision to help James become a billionaire. Even President Obama weighed in, making a pitch from the West Wing for his hometown Chicago Bulls. Billboards in Cleveland begged James to stay. Billboards in Miami pleaded with him to come.
Like any great entertainer, James wanted to be wanted. By everyone. At times he obsessed over the way people perceived him, especially when it came to his peers. The day before James travelled to Greenwich, free agent Kevin Durant used fewer than 140 characters on Twitter to announce his decision to sign a contract extension with the Oklahoma City Thunder, saying, “I’m just not the guy that always wants to be in the limelight or have my business out there.” Durant was James’s closest rival in terms of talent. And Durant’s low-key manner drew widespread praise from basketball writers, many of whom used his approach to take shots at James and his ESPN special. “An hour show? WTF?” a Fox Sports commentator wrote. Some players anonymously piled on. “With LeBron, it’s all about him,” one unnamed NBA player told a sportswriter. “He talks about wanting to be one of the greatest of all time, like Jordan, like Kobe. But Jordan and Kobe would never do this. He’s trying to be bigger than the game.” James read what was written about him. The constant comparisons to Michael Jordan and Kobe Bryant got old. But nothing stung more than being called selfish. In his mind, he was just approaching basketball the same way team owners did – as a business. Teams were willing to compete for his services. Why not meet with them and listen to their pitches? And why not try to orchestrate the best situation possible by talking to other players about joining forces to win championships together? That wasn’t selfish. It was shrewd.
No one seemed to appreciate James’s approach as much as Miami Heat president Pat Riley. In the week leading up to the ESPN special, James met with more than a dozen executives from teams jockeying to entice him. Riley showed up with his championship rings, making it clear that he knew what it took to win them. He also wasn’t threatened by James taking it upon himself to recruit other great players to band with him for a championship run. From a career standpoint, it was clear to James that Miami was the smart play. Still, the prospect of leaving Cleveland tore at him. Ohio was home. He had never lived anywhere else. He was comfortable there. And for reasons that few people other than his mother fully understood, he had a visceral connection to his hometown of Akron that made him feel indebted to the place that had made him. Determined not to disappoint his mother, he called her hours before flying to Greenwich and told her what he was thinking. He was the one, she told him, who had to live with the consequences of his decision. She encouraged him to do what was best for him. Anxious to get the whole thing behind him, James felt a welcome sense of relief when he entered the Greenwich home of Mark Dowley.
Wearing faded jeans and an untucked polo, Dowley didn’t look the part of a senior partner at William Morris Endeavor (WME), the most influential talent agency in Hollywood. A marketing strategist, he had arranged the details of the ESPN special. James didn’t know Dowley particularly well. But Carter did, which was what mattered to James. He thanked Dowley for welcoming him and opening up his home. Although Dowley’s agency was based in Los Angeles, he resided in Greenwich, which factored heavily into his desire to stage the event there. It was to take place at the Greenwich Boys & Girls Club, and the proceeds from the ESPN show would be donated to Boys & Girls Clubs in the cities of the NBA teams that had been courting James. Dowley introduced James to his awestruck 12-year-old son and a few of his buddies. Some representatives from ESPN, Nike and other sponsors were on hand as well. James politely greeted people, then ducked into a private room and slipped into jeans and a purple gingham shirt, his phone relentlessly pinging with notifications. Just two days earlier, James had joined Twitter, tweeting for the first time: “Hello World, the Real King James is in the Building ‘Finally.’ ” His impending decision was already trending on the up-and-coming social media platform. He was also getting inundated with text messages. One was from Kanye West: Where u at?
After making a spectacle of himself by upstaging Taylor Swift at the Grammy Awards, West had been off the grid in Hawaii, working on his fifth studio album, My Beautiful Dark Twisted Fantasy. Eager to witness James’s decision in person, West had made his way to Greenwich and was trying to find Dowley’s huse. Without giving Dowley a heads-up, James sent West the address before sitting down with Carter and sportscaster Jim Gray to go over the program. Soon there was a knock at the front door. Stunned, Dowley’s 12-year-old blurted out: “Kanye’s here!” The low-key rehearsal suddenly felt like a house party.
James had met Kanye through Jay-Z. They were friends. James was friends with a lot of rappers and hip-hop artists. They liked being in James’s orbit. They gave him backstage passes to their shows. Invited him to their parties. Sat courtside at his games. Even saluted him in their lyrics. As a basketball star, his fame surpassed all of them. Yet as dusk turned to dark, James was on the cusp of a whole new world of possibilities opening before him. Exiting the house with his entourage and filing into a van for a police escort to the Greenwich Boys & Girls Club, James couldn’t help wondering: How did a kid from Akron get here?
Generators hummed and satellite trucks jammed the parking lot outside the Boys & Girls Club. Thousands of people wearing NBA jerseys and holding signs – Come to the Nets – lined the streets. Fans stood 20 deep, chanting, “Let’s go Knicks” as a traffic cop with a bullhorn made a futile attempt to get them to step back. In a van trailing police officers on motorcycles, James rounded the corner as if on a float during a night parade.
Flashes from cell phone cameras combined with streetlights, yellow headlights, blue and red police lights, and white spotlights outside the club to create a kaleidoscope of colours. Inside the van, James was nervous and thinking about his decision to leave the Cavaliers. He quietly told Carter, “Let them know.”
“We are coming to you live from Greenwich, Connecticut,” a host in the ESPN studio said as the network broadcast scenes from the chaos outside. With Jay-Z’s Empire State of Mind cranking on a boom box, kids screamed and pointed when LeBron and Kanye emerged from the vehicles. Teenage children of venture capitalists and Wall Street bankers revelled in the fact that for one night their town was the center of the basketball universe.
Grade-schooler Gigi Barter was overwhelmed when she arrived with her older brothers. “What’s happening?” she shouted over the noise. Her brothers had been taking her to the club, which also functioned as a gym with a basketball court, for a few years. They explained that LeBron James was in town to announce he was joining the New York Knicks. It was going to be great. Once inside, Gigi encountered a friendly face. The man who ran the club made sure she had a seat in the area cordoned off for club kids. He put her near the front, so she had a clear view of James.
A few minutes before 9pm, James stood outside the club with Savannah Brinson. Kanye stood nearby in dark sunglasses, a black blazer, and multicoloured slippers. Dowley milled around inside, making sure everything was set. Rich Paul called the Cavaliers to inform the team that LeBron was leaving. To Paul this was like a divorce, and there was no easy way to break up with a spouse. Trying to soften the blow, he told the team’s general manager that this was a business decision, not a personal one. It didn’t matter. Owner Dan Gilbert was furious. Four years earlier he had tried to lock James in with a five-year contract that would have avoided all this, but James had insisted on only signing a three-year deal. “When he said, ‘I’m signing for three years,’ we should have had the balls to say, ‘Shove it,’” Gilbert told a journalist later. “We should’ve said, ‘F..k you. Go. Let’s see it.’” While Paul dealt with the Cavs, James kept his focus on Brinson until an ESPN producer wearing an earpiece told him it was time. “Wish me luck,” James told Brinson, and gave her a hug and a kiss. Before turning to go, he displayed his teeth and asked her to check them for food particles. Brinson loved how he always made her laugh. She gave him the A-OK and nudged him into the club.
Jim Gray sat in a director’s chair on a makeshift stage on the club’s basketball court. James sat opposite him in a matching chair. Under one basket, about 65 children were on folding chairs. Under the other basket and along the walls, a hundred or so adults in business attire sat in chairs. Cops stood in the doorways. Both Gray and James looked uncomfortable. Under the white lights, they were sweating. A makeup artist touched up their foreheads. Without any cue, the audience remained as quiet as a congregation at a funeral. From ESPN’s studio, host Stuart Scott told viewers that they were minutes away from James’s decision. Gray’s initial questions were stilted. Time dragged as James gave vague answers.
Finally, nearly 30 minutes into the broadcast, Gray said, “The answer to the question everyone wants to know... LeBron, what’s your decision?”
LeBron James left the Cleveland Cavliers for the Miami Heat, with whom he won two NBA championships. He returned to Cleveland in 2014 and took the Cavaliers to their inaugural title – his third – in 2016. He secured his fourth ring, with the Los Angeles Lakers, in 2020. The first definitive biography of basketball legend LeBron James, by Jeff Benedict - the acclaimed author of Tiger Woods. Published on April 19 by Simon and Schuster.
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