King James

By Sean Gregory

Here we go again. ??Before the last shot of Michael Jordan's final game with the Chicago Bulls, he left behind a moment that will hang in the minds of sports fans the way he did in the air. His quick crossover dribble, with the help of a tiny shove, sent Utah Jazz defender Byron Russell to the floor. Wide open, Jordan nailed the game-winning jump shot, and he and the Bulls clinched their sixth--and Jordan's last--NBA title.

At the Rose Garden Arena in Portland, Ore., last Wednesday, Cleveland Cavaliers star LeBron James, 20, became the youngest player to reach one of the toughest performance milestones in basketball, the "triple double" (double digits in points, rebounds and assists in a single game--he did it again three nights later). During one play, his quick crossover dribble, sans shove, sent a Portland defender veering to the sideline. Wide open, James shot a three pointer. Swish. Nothing but Mike.

Ever since Jordan's first retirement a dozen years ago, the NBA has searched from Chi-town to China for a star as dominant and marketable as His Airness. The contenders have bounced off magazine covers and TV commercials: Anfernee (Penny) Hardaway, Grant Hill, Allen Iverson, Vince Carter, Kobe Bryant. Some got hurt, others committed off-court fouls. Or they were simply overrated.

The race to replace Jordan may end without a winner, but LeBron James, in just his second year out of St. Vincent--St. Mary High School in Akron, Ohio, is already far ahead of the pretenders. The physical package is awesome: 6 ft. 8 in., 240 lbs., with the speed of a guard and the strength of a power forward. His game is spectacular. James combines Jordan's ease at filling up the box score (and the stands) with a ruthless instinct to win, a trait that Hill, a gentleman, and Carter, a diffident performer, surely lack. And like Jordan, James knows he can't do it alone. In fact, he is a complete team player who loves to pass the ball and make his teammates better: Iverson and Bryant can't claim much there. Despite securing a $90 million contract from Nike before his high school graduation, James has retained some Midwestern humility (Iverson and Bryant, take heed).

The biggest shock of all: the most hyped teen athlete of this century, who singlehandedly put high school basketball on national television, has actually exceeded the ungodly expectations set before him. He has resurrected the moribund Cavaliers and, in a season marred by an ugly melee in neighboring Michigan, perhaps the NBA as well. "The King James era is here," says Milwaukee Bucks head coach Terry Porter, who played against Jordan for much of his 17-year pro career. "You could argue that LeBron is kind of carrying the league right now."

The numbers back the coach's claim: James is a clear-cut MVP candidate. Wearing a protective mask on his face after breaking a cheekbone in late December, he's averaging 24.7 points, 7.2 rebounds and 7.3 assists per game for the surprising Cavs, who missed the play-offs last year but are now 24-15, tied for the second-best record in the ragged, rugged Eastern Conference (two seasons ago, pre-James, the Cavs finished 17-65). Last season, at age 19, James joined Jordan and Oscar Robertson, the game's two greatest all-around players, as only the third rookie ever to average more than 20 points, five rebounds and five assists per game. Says Hubie Brown, the 2004 NBA Coach of the Year and now a commentator for ABC: "Don't be putting his name in any sentence with anybody else."

While James' hellacious dunks evoke Jordan, his height and court vision more closely mirror those of another great, Magic Johnson, leader of the Los Angeles Lakers' "showtime" offense of the 1980s. "Every day I go to practice, I see LeBron make two passes, or do something, that I've never seen before," says Cleveland general manager Jim Paxon, a former pro. "You just shake your head and go, 'Thank God he's playing for us.'"

Early in his life, there was little hope that James would rescue any team. He was the one who needed help. He and his mother Gloria jumped from apartment to apartment in Akron--in fourth grade, says James, he missed more than 80 days of school. He then moved in with the family of his peewee football coach, Frankie Walker, which, James says, "turned my life around." He didn't miss a day of class in fifth grade, and he calls his perfect-attendance certificate the most important award he has ever received. Walker's wife Pam helped Gloria find a permanent apartment for herself and LeBron; a few growth spurts later, James lives in an 11-bedroom, 12,611-sq.-ft. mansion just outside Akron.

Despite his wealth and fame, James has managed a rare balance, avoiding both the hometown distractions and a superstar cocoon. Three neighborhood friends form his tight inner circle (they call themselves the Four Horsemen). After a Cavs game three weeks ago, James telephoned the St. Vincent-St. Mary High librarian--a woman who had used books to shield him from fans who would wander into the cafeteria for his autograph--just to catch up.

Outside the library, James is defined by his Jordanesque intensity. Like Mike, LeBron plays cards, and he won't ante up just for fun. "That's the only way it should be--you gotta be competitive," James told TIME. "It doesn't matter what I'm doing--just playing cards, just playing video games, if it's playing horse. I don't want to lose." Like Mike, James can also hold a grudge. "I don't have time to give people second chances," he says. "My life is going too fast."

James became a father at 19 last fall when his longtime girlfriend gave birth to their son. While James has promised to be the dad he never knew, some people are upset that he fed a stereotype: NBA players fathering out-of-wedlock children. "I was so mad at him when I found out about that," says Barb Wood, the librarian with whom James grew close, of his fatherhood. "He's just doing the same thing his mom did, having kids when she was just a kid. It's just repeating the cycle. He laughed for a few minutes when I told him he should marry his girlfriend. That's not even on his radar." According to James, he won't rule out a wedding. "Later on down the line," he says. "Not right now. I'm still young."

Cleveland is also begging James to stick by the Cavs; his bargain rookie contract ($18.8 million for four years) ends in 2007. Dan Gilbert, founder of online lender Quicken Loans, is forking over $375 million to buy the Cavs from longtime owner Gordon Gund. Gilbert says he'll do whatever it takes to keep James. Although James says, "I don't want to go anywhere else to play," it will probably take Kobe money, somewhere north of $130 million for a seven-year deal, to make him stay. The city is starving for a winner--Cleveland has gone 41 years without a major pro championship. Now that James is melting defenses with triple doubles, Cleveland, and the NBA, may soon taste glory once again. --With reporting by Laura A. Locke/Oakland and Portland and Chris Maag/Akron

With reporting by Laura A. Locke/Oakland and Portland; Chris Maag/Akron