Now I know LeBron James may be one of our countries most talented athletes, and I could only dream of doing some of the things he is capable of. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that he has a horrible inclination for being such a whiny bitch.
There are several shortcomings for Mr. James, and I am here to shed a little light on why we as fraternity gentlemen should curse his very existence. First of all, he plays for Miami. For those not aware, Miami is the geed-infested yankee capital of the south. Entire areas of this v-necked city don’t even speak English, and while the bars in South Beach can be pretty impressive, the afflicted patrons ruin nearly any chance of a successful outing.
Another letdown of James’ is his notorious inability to close. Lebron is reminiscent of a smooth talking fraternity brother that becomes a helpless self-inflicted cockblocker come 1:00 AM. To continue the metaphor, it’s like he has the game and the charm to gather a huge crowd of slams at the bar, but come last call the ladies are nowhere to be found. I believe that notable badass Alec Baldwin said it best in his notorious “Always be closing” speech from Glengarry Glen Ross. LeBron needs to take note, because when the last cup is on the table he’s missing the shot by a mile. Sorry LeBron, but coffee is for closers.
The final reason to hate LeBron is to acknowledge the fact he has never been appropriately hazed. By skipping college basketball completely, LeBron never had to work his way up from anywhere. LeBron was marked as a savior the moment he first set foot on an NBA court. In this regard, LeBron is a lot like a pledge brother who was conveniently “sick” every time you had to perform wall sits, recite your creed, and balance a cup of dip spit on your head simultaneously. While I am sure LeBron has put a lot of work into his game over the years, he’s never had the attitude adjustment that pledging offers us all. That’s a major loss of respect in my book.
LeBron will probably eventually get a championship, I get that, but he’s going to have to get harassed into shape by someone first, and I don’t think the Miami Heat have a whiskey-chugging 250lb fifth year senior handy like we did. And not to mention that Erik Spoelstra, Miami’s towel-boy turned head coach prodigy, looks like he’d be better suited to cleaning the Heat’s jockstraps rather than being on the sidelines. LeBron, I hope you read this and take the necessary steps to eliminate your inconsistencies. Hell, maybe you should read it a few times….Not five times, not six, not seven, but multiple.