It was 4 a.m. on All-Star Sunday when LeBron James’ phone rang. Well, it had been ringing all night, but this was different. Ringtone “2 of Amerikaz Most Wanted.” Only one person it could be.
“What’s up, Dwyane? You know what time it is, right?”
“Yeah, my bad, Bron. Look, do you know what you’re doing this summer yet?” Wade paused, but there was no answer. “I know, I know, everybody’s asking you. Me too. And honestly, I don’t know either. I like Miami and all, but my second-best player still has cornrows! In 2010!”
The silence continued.
“OK, fine, you don’t want to talk about it right now. I feel you. But let’s try and get something sorted at the game. Let’s do it like this: I’m gonna throw you an alley-oop in the third quarter. Dunk it straight on, and we stay where we’re at. Reverse it, and we both go somewhere else. Go through the legs, and we sign somewhere together.”
Finally, an answer: “What if I pull it back out and shoot a three?”
“Then you sign with the Timberwolves and I play in China with Stephon. We good?”