You're Welcome, Cleveland by Scott Raab

You're Welcome, Cleveland by Scott Raab

Author:Scott Raab
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2017-02-27T16:00:00+00:00


11

Rosh Hashanah

LeBron turns thirty on December 30, two days after the Pistons loss. CNBC wishes him a happy birthday at 5:47 a.m., as the dog and I scout the Asian and European markets, and notes that he’ll rake in $53 million from his endorsement deals this year.

He sits out the game that night against the Hawks with a left knee injury.

“It’s been hurting pretty much all year,” he says. “I’ve been playing with it, and it goes away and comes back.”

Uh-oh.

“All the tests and everything I’ve done with the doctors—everything has come back negative. So I’m not concerned. I’ve got forty-one thousand minutes in my career including the playoffs. You drive that car in the wintertime.”

He says he expects to be ready for the next game.

Without LeBron, the Cavs lose to the Hawks, 109-101. Love leaves the game in the third quarter with back spasms and watches the rest of the game in the locker room with LeBron. Kyrie goes off for thirty-five points, but also commits eight turnovers. They now sit five full games behind Atlanta, with four other teams between.

None of this seems to faze David Blatt.

“I thought we came out and competed. You saw a team that was together and fighting, after some good-hearted soul-searching and talking and teammanship, leadership from within—and the kind of grit we should have as Cleveland people.”

Look at the shit-eating grin on this vantz. His team loses for the third time in four games and he’s praising them for competing, bragging about Cleveland grit, and gushing about Kyrie, back from his injury.

“He’s just a wonderful, wonderful young man,” Blatt says. “I just think the world of that kid—he understands what this is about and is doing everything he can to impact us in a positive way. I just thought Kyrie played his heart out—I can’t say enough about that kid.”

Maybe he’s just trying to rally his troops—Love’s hurt, Varejão’s done for the year, the Cavs are 0-3 so far when LeBron sits, Shawn Marion sprained his ankle—but Blatt’s paean to Kyrie is, in its specifics and its effusion, an arrow aimed dead at LeBron.

Whatever prompts his eruption, Blatt sounds nothing like a coach concerned about his job. Dan Gilbert, with David Griffin in his ear, isn’t going to pull the trigger. David Blatt is going nowhere.

Of course. Only Cleveland would hire a coach with no NBA experience, a Jew to boot, hand him a hammer and nails, and let him revise the New Testament.



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