Irving dribbles around a J.R. Smith screen and Curry switches onto him, the matchup Cleveland wanted. From his chair James raises three fingers in the air and thrusts them triumphantly by his side as Irving’s three-pointer drops. The campers crack up. When the film ends, he turns and faces them. He feels as if he is peering into a time machine, gazing upon his 17-year-old self, back at the Nike All-American Camp in 2002. He is comfortable in front of this crowd. A prospect in the second row asks what motivates him, now that he has delivered Cleveland’s elusive championship, the defining accomplishment for the era’s defining player. James fiddles with the rubber band on his wrist. The old one, which he wore in Game 7, read i promise. The new one, a gift from Michele Campbell, who runs his foundation, reads promise kept.
There are so many directions James could go with that question. He rambles for a second about maximizing talent and supporting family. A photo of Kevin Durant, pointing to the heavens, hangs on a banner behind the bleachers. That’s probably what the kids expect, a riff about Durant and the Warriors, ganging up. He looks beyond the banner.
For the past decade, dramatic story lines have followed him, some of his own making, others contrived and distracting. Can he make the big shot? Can he win the big game? Can he win the big game in Cleveland? All that has melted away, into a puddle of Moët on the Oracle Arena hardwood, and finally he is left alone with the only subplot that ever really interested him. He has pondered it forever, but could not voice it, not with one title or even two. But now he has three, and the weight of this latest trophy tips scales the others did not. The guy in the second row waits for an honest answer.
“My motivation,” James says, “is this ghost I’m chasing. The ghost played in Chicago.”
James finishes a full-court run with the high schoolers, his first time on the floor since the Finals, and lies on a training table to stretch his legs. “Why do I feel like I’m about to go into therapy?” he asks. Because you started talking about ghosts, he is told. “My career is totally different than Michael Jordan’s,” he says. “What I’ve gone through is totally different than what he went through. What he did was unbelievable, and I watched it unfold. I looked up to him so much. I think it’s cool to put myself in position to be one of those great players, but if I can ever put myself in position to be the greatest player, that would be something extraordinary.”
