Yeah, but you can’t let him embarrass you out there, though.
“I’ll foul the shit out of him!” He laughs. “I’d give him all six fouls. I’d foul the shit out of Bronny, man.”
Yeah, like every time he tries to shoot.
The entire profile on LeBron, by Green, is worth your time. It includes so much more than this terrific anecdote, focusing mainly on the responsibility James feels to use his platform and stature and other resources for social activism. But, yeah, this part is fantastic.
Little Bronny is, as of now, 13 years old. Barring any changes to the one-and-done rule, he won’t be able to make his NBA debut for another six years, when his dad is 38-going-on-39. That seems forever away, especially in professional basketball years, but it is not outside the realm of possibility.
Vince Carter is 40 and still balling. LeBron can get there, too. He has more miles on his treads than basically anyone entering their 15th season, but he’s superhumanly durable. And if he can warm up to the idea of playing as a fraction of his current self, perhaps as a 2o-something-minutes-per-game starter on a contender (sup, future Philadelphia 76ers), he should be able to remain in the league long enough to challenge his eldest child.
And, hell, maybe LeBron just doesn’t fall off. I mean, we’ve never seen anyone like him. He’s gone to great lengths to preserve his stamina and physical profile. Maybe he just keeps playing and playing and playing, at a high level, until he’s 40-something. That would be marvelous. It’s also probably unlikely. But, hey, we can, and should, and must, and therefore will, keep dreaming.
