Champion... or Choker?

Back in 2003, when LLeBron James first came into the NBA, I, in a column entitled "King James and his Court," attempted to caution Cavs fans (you do know the word "fan" is shorthand for "fanatic") against placing too big a burden on the shoulders of a then 18-year-old -- albeit a very mature one. But so desperate and needy were we Clevelanders ... and so talented and gifted was he, an amazing mature man-child ... I knew that my admonitions, no matte how well articulated, would fall on deft ears. LeBron was going to be our -- Greater Cleveland's -- Savior... whether he was equipped to handle the task or not.

And now, seven years into his career, and an eternity it seems into Clevelanders love affair with the man who is perhaps the most physically gifted athlete of all time, we're faced with the withdrawal pangs usually reserved exclusively for heroin addicts and stone alcoholics... collectively we're shaking like a dog passing peach pits. Will he stay or will he go?

The Cavs loss to an aging Boston Celtics team in the second round of the playoffs was as startling as it was humiliating. LeBron seemingly loss his focus, and his supporting cast... his teammates who were supposedly hired to take up the slack on his off-nights, well -- when it came down to it most of them couldn't play dead in a gangster movie.

It was all on LeBron's broad shoulders, and his teammates let him down just as much as he let Cav's fans down. Some followers of the team are saying the player Sports Illustrated dubbed "The Chosen One," when he entered the league, choked -- and they just might be right.

Back in the day, I used to earn pocket money by hustling pool. While I wasn't the most talented shark in the pool room, I was, psychologically, the most devious. I beat far better players by shaking their confidence -- I caused them to choke on the "money ball." Nine-ball is the fast hustle game in the poolroom; the players have to make the balls in order from one to nine.

But in a nine-ball game, similar to sports (where the regular season doesn't mean very much it only gets you into the playoffs) the only thing that counts is who pockets the nine-ball ... the "money ball." And at that I was Mr. October. My best game came out under pressure... but what I was even better at was getting inside my opponents' heads to make them doubt themselves just a bit when they got to the money ball. And it doesn't take a lot of doubt when players are fairly evenly matched... a little doubt 'ill do you. Great ability at trash-talking does have its upsides, especially if your opponent is susceptible to it -- not everyone is. I've shot players that were impossible to rattle... no matter how great the pressure or the amount of money on the line: and they usually cleaned my clock.

The great ones -- in sports, in life, in any field of endeavor -- always somehow manage to perform well (perhaps their best) under pressure... it's what separates them from mere mortals, and indeed, it's what makes them great.

Moving to another team won't repair the chink in LeBron James armor... if there actually is one of the choking variety; he'll only take his deficiencies with him wherever he goes. No one ever outruns their demons -- standing up, confronting, and fighting them when and where they are encountered is the only answer. If this exceptional young man has the ability to play under pressure, if he is not (as some fans are now whispering) a choker... then he needs to stay right in Cleveland and prove it. It just might be his only path to true greatness.

From Cool Cleveland correspondent Mansfield B. Frazier mansfieldfATgmail.com. Frazier's From Behind The Wall: Commentary on Crime, Punishment, Race and the Underclass by a Prison Inmate is available again in hardback. Snag your copy and have it signed by the author by visiting http://www.frombehindthewall.com.