Hi, LeBron. It has been a while since we talked. As you might have noticed by the nonstop ringing of your phone — along with the air horns blaring and the fighter jets passing overhead — it just turned midnight, which means you are now, officially, a free agent. Doesn't it feel nice, being free? Everyone coming by and telling you how great you are? They should tell you that, LeBron! You are quite great!
We know you're going to be bombarded over the next few hours/days/weeks (please not weeks, LeBron), and we know that you will love it. We would love it, too. But we wanted to get to you first — thank you for staying up and refreshing our blog all night! — and remind you that if you win a championship, you will be a god in New York City. More than a king, LeBron: a god. You're going to win a championship somewhere, LeBron. You're too good not to. It might as well be here.
But enough with that. We've told you all this tons of times before, and we're starting to embarrass ourselves, what with all the fawning. We just wanted to say hello, and please come to New York, LeBron — please please please please please please please please PLEASE.
Okay, you can go back to bed now. But please come here. Did we mention that? We don't remember. Well, in case we didn't, please come here. Please.
We just want to be clear. We'd like you to come here.