This morning would be a good time to go into psychotherapy in Cleveland.
I mean, what does a Cleveland sports fan have to live for, now that LeBron has come and gone (leaving singed little bits of the hometown team in his wake) and the long-awaited Hateothon is over?
Yeah, they brought their signs and booed until their lungs bled and shouted things -- the best being "Scottie Pippen!", an obvious implication that in Miami, LeBron is not the Man but only the sometimes useful sidekick to the Man, aka Dwyane Wade. And what good did it do?
LeBron was manifestly underwhelmed. The hometown Cavs were just as manifestly overwhelmed by the moment. And so in the end LeBron, far from exposing himself as the fraud his former supporters so devoutly wished he would be, left with his stature in the game not only intact but greatly enhanced after a 28-point win in which, under the most intense of pressures, he went for 38 points, didn't commit a turnover and -- salt in the wounds, here -- didn't even play the fourth quarter.
Today the yakosphere is shouting his praises. And, hey, Cleveland -- you helped make it happen!
And you're still stuck with a lousy basketball team, a football team that isn't going to the playoffs (again) and, in a couple of months, another summer of lousy baseball.
The doctor will see you now.