It takes a certain humility (not to say, considerable maturity) to take others' adulation in stride. But it doesn't appear that James learned very much about cultivating a modest, unassuming attitude from his family--especially when it's noted by Cleveland sports reporter, Andy Baskin, that his mother, Gloria James, would proudly go to his high school games and "taunt" other parents with her Wheaties box (!). Baskin, in his thoughtful post, "Reflections and Revelations on Covering LeBron James," refers to a variety of incidents that occurred during the time he covered James for the media. Like his fellow reporters, he felt impelled to look the other way when James acted questionably--feeling that, well, superstars behave differently from the rest of us, so he probably should be cut additional slack. But after his "Decision" and the egregiously insensitive, disrespectful way James left his team, his fans, and his city, Baskin felt quite within his rights to divulge earlier signs of James' offensive character flaws--which for so long virtually everyone had given him a free pass on.

It's fascinating that even in high school his behavior on the court was at odds with his behavior off it. Writers have commented on how mature--even selfless--he was in his willingness to pass the ball to others whenever they seemed in a better position to make a shot. And in fact a major part of what made his athletic performance so precociously stellar (and so "adult") was that he was every bit as accomplished at setting up shots for teammates as he was in finding the net himself. A natural born leader, he was also a superb team player.

Off the court, however, some of his behaviors disclosed less flattering aspects of his character. For one thing, Baskin recalls the brash audacity of James' publicly declaring: "I am a great leader!" And the youth was also involved in various incidents suggesting that maybe he really wasn't much more than an immature, self-centered adolescent--inconsiderate, smug, and egocentric. Or, to not coin a phrase, "full of himself."

Baskin talks about the time James was named amateur athlete of the year by the Cleveland Sports Awards, and arrived late--adding that, thereafter, James didn't bother to show up at all to receive his awards. Similarly, Baskin (then reporting for the cable station FSN) speaks of his tremendous difficulty in getting interviews with the superstar when James was in his first year with the Cavaliers. Even though NBA rules clearly specified that the home TV broadcasting team get first choice of a player after the game, he felt regularly snubbed by James. And during all this time James' "inner circle"--a most self-entitled entourage that seemed almost bullying in its presumptuous disregard for protocol--were demanding (and, of course, receiving) all sorts of privileges because, at every turn, those in charge felt they had to defer to James' preferences. Here the writer talks about how his professional colleagues would be "bumped off" team flights because James' men had "moved in around the team" and James wanted them accommodated (as in, his wishes were management's command).

Technically, it was James' cohorts that were offensive and obnoxious. But ultimately their annoying presence was James' responsibility. Similarly, when James was still in high school and his mother purchased an expensive Hummer H2 for his 18th birthday (financed by a bank comfortable enough that they'd be repaid based on James' future earnings), the Ohio High School Athletic Association (OHSAA) felt obliged to investigate whether this lavish expenditure was a violation of its guidelines. And although his mother may have been blamed for this infraction far more than her son, what does it say that James proceeded to bring a remote control hummer onto the court and played with it--mocking the state that questioned the legitimacy of his owning the full-size model?

Later, when James accepted two throwback basketball jerseys worth $845 in compensation for posing for pictures a Cleveland store wished to display on its walls, the OHSAA stripped him of his eligibility--though James' successful appeal led to a judge's blocking the ruling and reducing his penalty to a mere two-game suspension. Both these incidents indicate the young man's growing sense of entitlement--and a self-righteousness that would only get worse as his reputation as the new basketball messiah (or, should we say, "second coming" of Jordan) became increasingly taken for granted.

Once a Cavalier, James' excessive arguing over calls with referees gave more evidence of his domineering sense of superiority. If the refs didn't see things as he did, he was more than ready to tell them about it. And in his many interviews he incessantly talked about the paramount importance of "winning"--yet, increasingly, it seemed as though his priorities had a lot more to do with his personally winning than helping his team to emerge triumphant.

Much has been made of the fact that when in the '08-'09 Eastern Conference Finals, the Cavs lost to the Orlando Magic in six games, James refused to shake hands with the victors. Such an attitude in defeat is, by definition, considered poor sportsmanship. And at the time James' hasty retreat to his locker room was broadly criticized by the press. James, however, protesting that others could actually find fault with his behavior, explained: "It's hard for me to congratulate somebody after you just lose to them. I'm a winner. It's not being a poor sport or anything like that. But somebody beats you up, you're not going to congratulate them on beating you up. . . . It doesn't make sense for me to go over and shake somebody's hand."

As sympathetic as I can be toward James' defense (i.e., it's easy enough to imagine how hard it must be to acknowledge your loss directly to your "enemy," who--after all--has just defeated you and made you a "loser"), the fact is that such congratulation is precisely what good sportsmanship dictates. In a word, being "gracious" in defeat. And James' inability to behave this way reveals something essential about his egocentricity, as well as his tendencies toward self-righteousness and self-justification. Note also how his use of the pronoun "I" quickly devolves into the much more inclusive "you"--as though he's not really talking about himself but athletes in general (for it's not really he that's a bad sport). Nonetheless, his self-serving rhetoric gives him away as an individual unable to subordinate his ego to the ideals of the game.

Compare this glib rationalization, absolving himself of any responsibility for violating a hallowed sports tradition, to his equally prideful retort when he was criticized for his lackluster performance in the Cavaliers '09-'10 playoff series against the Boston Celtics. In the pressroom following the Cavs' loss in game 5, James excused himself by saying that he was disappointed in himself and claiming he'd had only three bad games in his seven years in the NBA (!). He seemed frankly unable to see, or speak of, his play in the larger context of letting his teammates down--or, for that matter, the whole city of Cleveland. Again, his self-pardoning statements (such as his jumper's just not falling) hardly seemed to justify the pedestal on which he'd been so firmly ensconced. For absent was any anger toward himself about his clearly sub-par performance, but rather (once again) what he revealed was a feeble attempt at self-vindication.