Opinion> Connie Schultz> But Lebron Who Loves Ya

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But, LeBron, Who Loves Ya?

LeBron James, I have defended your right to a private life, praised you for being a loving father and screamed like an abandoned fishwife over your majestic feats on the basketball court.

But you have crossed the summit of my mountain of patience.

You wore a Yankees cap.

At an Indians game.

In Cleveland .

What were you thinking?

There you were, for all the world and 44,608 fans to see, raising your Yankees cap from behind home plate with a grin wider than a keyboard.

Talk about salt meeting the wound.

Why'd you do that? It's not as if we weren't already clear on your allegiance. You announced on Saturday Night Live that you wanted the Yankees to win. You told TBS that you were a big fan of Derek Jeter, the same tough guy who was batting at our midges as if he were fighting off a shark attack.

We get it already.

But still, we don't understand.

You play basketball for the Cleveland Cavaliers. You took the team farther than they'd ever gone, to the roar of an adoring crowd of fans who live in and around — how's this for coincidence? — Cleveland.

You are a beloved superhero in Cleveland, and for all seasons. Long after we've surrendered our faith in Santa Claus, the Easter Bunny and the tooth fairy, we still believe in the wonders of you. When the winning score of a Cavs postseason game was announced at Jacobs Field earlier this year, the stadium erupted.

And now, it's the Cleveland Indians' turn. They are one of the most hardworking, unselfish teams in baseball, and they are playing their hearts out in the playoffs.

So, you show up wearing a cap for the opposing team. And flaunt it. Now we're the butt of jokes all across the country because our superstar appears to have lost his compass.

I feel like the parent whose child just made headlines for smashing pumpkins on all the neighbors' porches. You don't stop loving him, and it's not the worst crime ever, but you can't help wondering why he had to go and embarrass the family like that.

I'm not suggesting you wear Chief Wahoo on your head.

As the great-great-granddaughter of a full-blooded Blackfoot Indian, the only thing I loathe more than that drunken caricature is the sight of skinny white guys wearing face paint and sheepish grins because even they know how stupid they look. Why would anyone, especially a person of color, want to exploit a minority for sport?

But you could wear a cap that says "Cleveland." Or you could just skip the hat altogether. Trust me, you'll still get your picture on the stadium's giant video screen.

Now, you claim you've been a Yankees fan from the time you were 3 inches short of a tube sock. Well, we all had childhood crushes. I spent three years as a little girl convinced that Richard Chamberlain was a raging heterosexual praying for me to grow faster. Bubbles burst. You move on.

You don't have to pretend you like us if you don't, but why broadcast your disloyalty just to make people feel bad? It's like standing up in the middle of a family reunion and announcing you wish you were adopted.

Now, the whole family's upset. Last Friday, a sold-out crowd showed up for Game 2, and too many of them had the offseason you on their postseason minds. Everywhere we looked, there were signs of their unhappiness.

"Beat the LeBronx Bombers," read one poster. "NO LEBRAINS" read a 6-foot banner.

Brendan McGarry was more subtle. He just showed up wearing his faded maroon Cavs shirt with handwritten notations around the word "Witness."

"King James," he wrote. "Witness the heresy." On the back was a crossed-out Yankees logo.

"All of us still love the guy, but there's that sense that he's our guy," McGarry said. "This one hurt."

By the way, the 37-year-old is a Cavs season ticket holder, and he remembers exactly when he became one:

"When they drafted LeBron James."

Connie Schultz is a Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist for The Plain Dealer in Cleveland and the author of two books from Random House: "Life Happens" and "… and His Lovely Wife." To find out more about Connie Schultz (cschultz@plaind.com) and read her past columns, please visit the Creators Syndicate Web page at www.creators.com.