I’ve come to appreciate the sheer fact of consistency, of availability. Not just day-to-day, though you can certainly expect that from LeBron James, but year-to-year. He is the rare timeless athlete, one of the few constants in my life — in anyone’s life.
Eighteen years. LeBron’s career is old enough to be my drinking buddy, and it pretty much is.
Memories are unreliable, frustrating narrators, but I remember moments involving him with perfect clarity.
When James made his playoff debut…
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