It started in mid-March when he ditched his signature headband, proving to the entire Twitterverse he doesn’t give a flying you-know-what about his receding hairline or what you think about it. And after Thursday’s soul-crushing block and subsequent verbal middle finger to Evan Turner during Cleveland’s Game 3 win over Boston, the transition is complete.
Evil LeBron is back, which means the chase for an NBA championship in 15 other cities has unofficially come to a screeching halt.
It’s as satisfying a heel-turn as Paul Orndorff clotheslining Hulk Hogan in ’86 or Owen Hart spiking his own brother in his injured knee back in ’94. The babyface LeBron who penned a heartfelt letter to Cleveland fans in Sports Illustrated to announce his return in July is a soulless droid far too obsessed with his public image, worrying about saying the right thing instead of bludgeoning his opponents with reckless abandon, the same bland, boring LeBron who trudged his way through the first half of the season before he and the Cavaliers finally snapped out of it in January.