MJ? LeBron? Who Cares Who The "GOAT" Is?
Don't let the distracting greatest debate keep you from appreciating greatness.
I get it.
The debate creates buzz. It builds the careers of sports media personalities. It fills idle conversation lags between sports fans. It’s the kind of manufactured drama that the media can milk for DECADES at a time.
But has our collective obsession with defining the GOAT done more harm than good?
I know people who have spent TWO DECADES trying to minimize LeBron James’ legacy. For what? An ego hit that they ride with Jordan? To live vicariously through the accomplishments of another athlete?
It’s time to blow up this #1 culture. It’s given us blind spots. We’re missing too much of the beauty of team sports with our myopic fixation on who is goated or not.
I’ll admit, Jordan is my goat. The peak of his narrative hit when I was growing up and in the throes of my most impressionable, sport obsessed phase. What he did, with all eyes on him was crazy energizing and earth shattering to watch play out in real time. You kind of knew it was going to happen, but the way he kept proving his haters wrong and stacking awards and titles was must see TV. If you cared at all about sports, Jordan captivated you. If you were a part of the human experience, Jordan represented something from beyond. Culture has had it happen a few times. The Beatles. Steve Jobs and the i-fication of the world.
After Jordan set the template for the dent in the universe an athlete could make, everyone else was imitating. That’s the shadow LeBron was born in before our very eyes.
But, when Jordan retired, the world didn’t stop turning. OK, maybe it did for a second or two. But then the human timeline had to move on. We had to admit that it would never be the same.
Weirdly, it kind of did feel the same when Kobe Bryant came along. There were all these echoes and aesthetic similarities. Kobe played a good Jordan. He maybe even out-Jordaned MJ on articulating the killer competitive instinct that fueled both master and apprentice. Admitting that Kobe was a legendary being didn’t diminish what Jordan achieved. And by not playing the game of who did it best, we could all sit back, or lean in and appreciate all of Kobe’s logic defying antics and stone cold killings out on the court. They were the same, but different. Basketball moved on, but there was still a compelling face to the NBA, and real fans knew not to look away.
Then comes LeBron. Born on live TV. His high school games live-streamed to our homes. His face on every magazine cover. Coming out of Jordan and being mid-Kobe, we had been trained to await Chosen Ones. And hey, here’s a guy who calls himself a King and a Chosen One.
That’s some of the stuff that started setting the haters off.
But if you were into the melodrama and the cultural soap opera that is the NBA, you rolled with it. The Chosen One? Hell yeah, I’ll be a witness to that.
And LeBron started popping off. In Nike commercials before he ever stepped on a regular season court. More magazine covers. Signature sneakers. Referenced in lyrics. It all had a familiar cadence to it. Like we’d seen this movie before. Oh yeah, he’s doing the take over culture like MJ did thing. Cue more haters heading towards the exits.
But beyond all the marketing smoke and mirrors and braggadocio hardwood theater of it all, the dude could flat out play. He wasn’t a carbon copy of Jordan like Kobe was, although he did rock #23. He wasn’t as fluid or polished as those others, but he was damn near unstoppable from the jump. There were shades of Magic and Penny Hardaway in his pass first approach. There were the thunderous dunks like he was playing on a nerf hoop against grade schoolers. There was an unprecedented mix of size and speed that we’d never seen before.
After a few games, I stopped trying to force any comparisons. The media shine was too bright. He was destined to have hard core detractors. But I went fan boy early on. Yeah, MJ was still my competitive center, but I committed to enjoy this LeBron ride.
And I’m glad I did. Because it’s been 20 years of the NBA feeling vital with him as the face. Yeah there were bumps and bruises and media pratfalls along the way. (I’m looking at you The Decision) But for those paying attention, LeBron defined an era. A couple of eras. From day one, he accepted being “The Guy” and stepped up to the challenge. Accolades, titles, numbers, all followed.
I’m a fan of the game of basketball. I like seeing how it evolves over time. I like seeing different players establish their own personas. It used to feel a little more distinct and like pro wrestling with villains like Reggie Miller and John Starks roaming the courts. I loved that. When Steve Nash was turning the Suns into a wheeling and dealing powerhouse. Loved it. When Steph and Co. established a new brand of splash ball down in the Bay. Loved it. When Iverson rolled up wearing fits I could never even try on in a dressing room. Fantastic. When Linsanity channeled all of the fire of the basketball gods at the center of the basketball universe in Madison Square Garden. Give me more!
The NBA has fed my curiosity and imagination as a fan. The storylines and characters have fascinated me over the years. I can’t turn my eye on that. I’m a hoops guy. The game is going to change and morph and all-time greats will come and retire. But there will always be something new. There will always be someone new. Someone who captures the imagination and becomes the face of the league. Maybe it’s for a couple of decades like a Jordan or LeBron. Or maybe it’s for a couple of weeks like Jeremy Lin. I’m here for all of those stories. And if I get bogged down in some inconsequential GOAT debate, I’m going to miss something magical.
Basketball is a team game, so purely counting titles doesn’t work for me. Robert Horry famously has 7 rings, one more than Mike. What’s the math there? I’d still take titleless Charles Barkley any day of the week on my squad over Horry or just about anyone else. Sometimes it’s the team. Sometimes it’s the player.
As LeBron crosses yet another milestone, I sit back and give my salute. He’s already got his own crown fixed on his brow, he doesn’t need my vote in some popularity contest. So LeBron, I’ll just say, I appreciate you. I’ve been a fan since seeing your high school games on ESPN. I went to your games when you came to Portland. You gave off that magic energy that you can feel in the top row of the arena like few others. Yeah, you’re a billionaire and have a whole media empire and all of that. But I know what you did was really damn hard and I appreciate that. There are countless others who had the hype and spotlight of being a #1 pick that were no longer a story a couple years later. But not LeBron. He made us all witnesses, whether we liked it or not, and he became unstoppable. Unmissable. Unskippable.
The LeBron story could have ended up a million different ways other than it did.
I’m just here to appreciate the flavor of greatness. Color me entertained. Put me in witness protection. I don’t care. I’m an MJ guy and I’m a LeBron guy. Like I’m a Kobe guy and a Dame DOLLA guy.
I’m not out here battling the ESPN heads on all that GOAT talk. I’m here assembling my squad of legends. Cherry picking beacons of greatness throughout the eras. To me that’s a whole lot bigger than some armchair, barbershop debate. They say you don’t know what you got till it’s gone. But I’m glad I kept my eyes on LeBron and all these players. I appreciate what they did and the inspiration they gave. That’s the power of sport that I keep coming back for.
Andrew “Oyl” Miller is an advertising Creative Director and Copywriter. He spent 15 years working at Wieden+Kennedy on brands like Nike, PlayStation and IKEA. You can check out his work on his website.