James' television debut drew 11,523 fans, some of whom paid $100 for a courtside seat, as well as pro scouts, front office personnel from 10 NBA teams, and several members of the Cleveland Browns. James got a taste of what it will be like nightly in the NBA, getting his first national exposure under the bright television lights as ESPN showcased a regular-season high school game from coast-to-coast for the first time in thirteen years. He missed his first three shots, all jumpers, but after the 6-foot-8, 240-pounder scored his first basket on a dunk with 3:05 left in the first quarter, he soon had a crowd gasping every time he touched the ball.
After he officially declared himself eligible to be the No. 1 pick in the 2003 NBA Draft, and a month or so shy of becoming a millionaire 30 or 50 or 70 times over. But this was the least of his concern. It's taking care of his people, insisting that his boys Frankie and Brandon, his former St. Vincent- St. Mary teammates, both of them as close as brothers to LeBron, find their way into a few pictures. Or shouting out to his classmates, Dru and Sian and Willie and Romeo, for what they've accomplished in his shadow, and just for having his back. And it's the work ethic, exhibited in ways big and small. He would get to the gym at 7:30; by 9:30, three of the four available baskets have been broken down, the overhead lights are snapping off, and the janitors are bugging him to leave. And there's the 6-8, 240-pound millionaire-to-be, exhausted after running through circuit drills of 15", 18", 22" and 28 footers, and making more than he should. The newspaper folks who've finally laid off after two years of non-stop pursuit, the 40-year-old "fans" harassing him for autographs that'll end up on eBay an hour later, he's really not all that different from the kid first tracked down in the St. V lunchroom two years ago. Maybe I should be chastising him for poor decision-making, lamenting his lost innocence or decrying his decision to forgo a college education.
