NBA

King — of Ohio — fits LeBron’s born identity

Here’s the part I don’t understand, to be honest:

Everything about LeBron James’ act screams that he should want New York City every bit as much as the city wants him. His nickname is “King,” for crying out loud. He wants to be his sport’s first billionaire. He craves the spotlight. In case we’d forgotten, he’s now decided to announce his intentions tomorrow on ESPN; time was, only a president could ask for network time like that.

So please ignore the widespread drivel that New York’s belief in itself as a perfect landing spot for LeBron is a purely parochial notion, because this is inarguable: The spotlight burns brightest, hottest and most brilliantly in New York City. Period.

That isn’t being a partisan. That’s fact. And let’s be even more brutally honest: Most people in most public professions who are born in Northeast Ohio want more than anything else to follow their dreams to one place and one place only: New York City. Actors. Artists. Musicians. Writers. This is how it has always been, the way it remains. It is a one-way street, all paths from all cities leading east toward Manhattan.

So there is only one reasonable conclusion to draw from this, and from the way this seems destined to play itself out:

In his heart of hearts, James is more Midwest than Midtown. He is more Shaker Heights than Washington Heights. He is more There than Here. Yes, there’s the extra $30 million or so he can command in Cleveland. Yes, there is the small matter of a roster that, while flawed, is still sturdier than what the Knicks have, even with Amar’e Stoudemire.

Mostly, it’s starting to feel like what LeBron wants most of all is to stay home. Let’s be very clear about something: If he’s gone to the trouble to reserve an hour on ESPN all so he can humiliate his hometown on national television and go elsewhere . . . well, maybe he won’t immediately become more detested than Tiger Woods in the pantheon of athletic shame (everywhere outside of his chosen city, of course), but he’ll run an awfully close second.

Bad enough that this all seems designed to make the Knicks look like bridesmaids, a perfect plotline since the rest of the country loves to see New York lose (though you’d think the country would’ve gotten its fix watching the Knicks stagger across the last 10 years like Keith Richards in Amsterdam) and networks love to tease New York into turning on its television sets.

At this point, I should reiterate a point I made this time last year, one I still harbor: There is a part of me that wants James to stay in Cleveland, the same part that thought it right that Joe Mauer stayed in Minneapolis. It is abundantly clear that LeBron wishes the Cavaliers could have made his decision easier for him by surrounding him with a better cast, a roster he could firmly believe in, one that could help him achieve his championship aspirations. Antawn Jamison makes nobody forget Scottie Pippen, least of all LeBron himself.

James will commit no grave sin by remaining in his home state, and may actually assure his legacy everywhere except New York simply by doing that, by choosing backyard over Broadway, especially with the world watching. If he picks the Knicks? New York has a way of compartmentalizing its feelings; James’ interpretation of “The Bachelor” is inherently distasteful to any right-thinking and self-respecting Gotham sports fan, but we can sell our souls wholesale when we have to; just wait for the standing O that accompanies Alex Rodriguez’ 600th home run if it happens at home.

James created a Twitter page yesterday and before he’d typed even one character, he had 90,000 followers, and by midnight he had just under 200,000.

That’ll be close to a million before long, and he’ll love it because it’s one more chance to justify his nickname. Not as much as conquering New York City would, of course, but then he was born to his kingdom in Cleveland. He’d have to earn it here.

There’s a difference. And I believe he knows it.