The news seemed routine.
The ramifications could be resounding.
Late last month, LeBron James exercised his $52.6 million player option with the Lakers for next season. It was an expected transaction that, at first weary glance, appeared to be no big deal.
Of course he would take the guaranteed money, more than anyone else in the league besides Brooklyn could give him.
Of course he would stay in Los Angeles, where son Bronny sits on the bench and his home sits on a hill and his myriad businesses are sitting pretty.
Of course, of course, of course … but …
Wait a minute. There was a catch.
For the first time since James arrived here seven years ago, there was no second or third or fourth year attached to his contract.
The Lakers didn’t offer him an extension. They refused to guarantee him a spot here after next spring.
For the first time in his Laker career — actually, the first time in his entire 23-year career — James will thus play this season on an expiring contract.
In NBA speak, that means two words.
Trade bait.
Except James has a no-trade clause, and it’s unimaginable he would agree to go to another team that would have to gut their roster to match his salary.
So for the first time, the wiley, elusive, flexible LeBron James is stuck.
He’s stuck on a team clearly catering to the needs of a different superstar in Luka Doncic.
He’s stuck on a team that might be viewing his contract not as an asset but an albatross.
He’s stuck on a team that might be looking to get rid of him but can’t.
He’s stuck on a team where he said he wants to end his career, but where that ending might eventually be out of his control.
He could perhaps free himself by thinking about Nov. 29, 2015.
That is the date that Kobe Bryant, a month into his 20th season, officially announced his retirement.
You remember it, right? What happened next was the most surprisingly delightful farewell season-long tour in the history of sports.
“I thought everybody hated me,” Bryant said at the time. “It’s really cool, man.”
Hate him? America loved him, and showed him that love in every NBA arena across the country, standing ovations from coast to coast as he cruised his way toward that stunning 60-point career finale.
The Lakers were generally terrible, the hobbled Bryant was mostly awful, but the nights were wholly magical, the stone-faced bad guy opening himself up to a national respect and admiration that he never knew existed. It was important that he saw this before he retired. It became infinitely more important that he saw this before he died.
At the end of the tour I wrote, “… a final act that, in typical Kobe Bryant fashion, was unlike any other in the history of American sports. Opening up to a world he never trusted, becoming accessible and embraceable after years of stony intensity, Bryant used the last five months to flip the narrative on his life and career, erasing the darkness of a villain and crystallizing the glow of a hero.”
Bryant had said before the season that he would never do a farewell tour, that he didn’t want to be lauded like baseball fans lauded the prolonged retirement journey of the New York Yankees’ Derek Jeter.
“We’re completely different people; I couldn’t do that,” he said.
Yet saddled with an expiring contract just like James, Bryant ultimately wanted to do something that James might consider, giving the organization a head start at rebuilding while controlling his own narrative.
Before Bryant’s decision could be leaked, he announced it himself in an open letter to basketball that was so touching it became an Oscar-winning film. He even arranged for a copy of the letter, sealed in an envelope embossed with gold, to be placed on the seat of every fan attending that night’s game at then-Staples Center against the Indiana Pacers.
Not exactly a T-shirt, huh? It was elegant, it was classy, it was perfect, just like the tour, initially criticized in this space as being selfish before your humbled correspondent finally realized that Bryant was right, it was really, really cool.
“It’s fun. I’ve been enjoying it,” Bryant said. “It’s been great to kind of go from city to city and say thank you to all the fans and be able to feel that in return.”
You hear that, LeBron?
This is not a call for James to retire, but a call for James to begin considering how that will happen, and how the classy Lakers would nail it if it happened here.
Granted, the James and Bryant situations are not comparable. Even though James is 40, and Bryant was 37, James is still one of the league’s best players while Bryant was statistically one of its worst. And while James is still physically powerful, Bryant never fully recovered from his torn Achilles and was battered and broken.
James might have more gas in the tank while Bryant was clearly done.
But James himself has indicated that he probably has, at most, two years left. And every season his injuries become more insistent and debilitating.
And now that the Lakers are under new ownership with no ties to James, and now that current management has already given this team to Doncic, James doesn’t have much of a future here.
He has made noise about going back to Cleveland, and maybe after this season he’ll want to return to where his career started.
But if he’s even thinking about retirement after this year — a legitimate option for the first time — he shouldn’t wait to do so while walking off the court following an early-round loss by a mediocre Laker team.
Nobody does retirement tours like the Lakers. And nobody has ever done one like Kobe Bryant.
Decidedly in the twilight of his career, LeBron James can learn from both.
The post Plaschke: Kobe Bryant has one more lesson for LeBron James — how to retire appeared first on Los Angeles Times.
