No need to hang your head low...Cleveland and the world are SO PROUD of you!!!

Fans of the Cavaliers would like to thank David Blatt, LeBron James, and the Cleveland Cavaliers for a season of impressive professional basketball.  The King’s return to Cleveland after a long, tumultuous, and bitter farewell stunned us with a tidal wave of emotions that left young and old men rubbing their eyes in the streets, unashamed, red light on, cameras rolling—as if tear-gassed.

For those of us who were less than eager but more willing to allow LeBron James to take his talents elsewhere (however he chose to do it), his magnificent return taught us just how mature it is to forgive and forget the mobs—nationwide—burning his jersey.  And, just move on.

For those of us who would love LeBron James, even if The King did the truly unforgivable and abdicated his throne in the East for the Nutrasweet beaches and fake sunshine of the West, there was never anything to forgive.  Our loyalty will always lie with The King no matter which team just the aura of him elevates.

All this is to say that we the fans are so geeked that LeBron James made this decision—the decision to return, to come on back home, to his roots.  What could we do without him?

Because of his character and spirit, he brings class, captivating charisma, and a sense of excitement wherever he goes.  His presence both fascinates and intimidates coaches.  It brings out the best in his teammates.  It’s no wonder J.R. Smith gushed that he would have walked to Cleveland to play for the Cavaliers.  Due to his immense gift, LeBron James also draws out the worst sort of aggression from his competitors.  This is due, in no small part, to every decent ball-handler tricking himself into believing he is the beast  to eat The King’s lunch.  The King’s foes salivate for the opportunity to challenge and defeat The Golden Boy, The Anointed One, The Chosen One.  With saved gas from a lack of concentrated effort throughout a lackluster season, teams barely winning a third of their games seem to light a match in The House of Wine and Gold.

There have been some tough breaks along the way to glory this season.  The rumor was that if you looked close enough you could see the knots from Coach David Blatt and LeBron James regularly bumping heads.  The other rumor was that there was no love between Kevin Love and LeBron James.  Then arose the injuries to key players.  Kevin Love’s encounter with body snatcher Kelly Olynyk left him nearless armly—er, nearly one less arm.  How many times have we longed to press rewind on that weird day, that utterly bizarre moment?  How many times have we squeezed our eyes shut attempting to wish that unnecessary madness away?  Yet, we can only imagine the agony that pierced Kyrie Irving’s body and his heart.  After a season of awesome and inexplicably voodoo-ish exploits (that left even The King biting his nails and scratching his head asking, “How he do dat?”), Kyrie Irving would have to settle.  Kyrie Irving would have to settle for passing not the ball but the days a baller lives for—the chance to win it all, the chance to leave basketball obscurity behind to embrace orange-ball greatness—using his legs not on the court but dangling off the side of hospital beds.

Due to some neglectful and costly officiating, it was crazy (but exhilarating for all the wrong reasons) to witness Kendrick Perkins become “the heavy” for our easy-going, peace-loving team when the wholesome game of basketball turned to curse wars and kick-boxing.  To see some familiar faces, James Jones and Mike Miller, it filled us with fits of joy and frustrated us to see others, elbows to knees, with healed or healthy bodies hug the benches like leg warmers.  And what a pleasure it was getting to know Iman Shumpert, who wears his high-top fade like a crown, like the fresh prince he is.  With certainty, we haven’t seen the best or the last of him yet.  J.R. Smith.  Like lightning, Smith’s clutch 3-point shooting was heart-stopping, a dangerous thing of beauty to behold!  (Rihanna  probably sneaks and rings him whenever her new—soon-to-be-old—boo visits the loo.)  And while it might get ugly when you have to dig deep, Matthew Dellavedova proved that, good things, ferocious little things, can crawl up from down under.  This season, opponents learned the hard way what could happen if they poked around and woke a baby-faced giant; Timofey Mozgov, who is as long and hard as a Russian winter, ain’t so gentle, is he?

To the entire organization that is the Cleveland Cavaliers, thank you so much for the wild ride, for reviving a city that often feels as though it’s on its last legs in a cheap pair of sneakers without arch support.  Mayor Frank Jackson, (despite being light years behind on the light bill) thank you for risking another blackout across the East coast by burnin’ erry bulb in the heart of the city for the world to see.  Just goes to show you, in the right light, anything can shine!

LeBron James, Akron, Cleveland—and dare I say—the world and all of Israel are still throbbing from your sweet-as-honey golden touch!  But, alas, Eastern Conference Champions, night falls on a season.  Please feel free to roll over now and get some rest.  Till next season . . . we’re exhausted.