Dear Cleveland,

I’m sorry I’ve added to your years and years of sports-fan misery by humiliating you on national television and bringing that big shiny trophy to a different city.

A much warmer, and more pleasant smelling city, too.

Miami’s great! You should see what girls walk around in down here. Not only on the beach. I’m talking about on the streets, in the restaurants and clubs. It’s like, bikinis everywhere! But barely bikinis, you know what I’m saying?! All year round. Man, it’s best!

But I do feel kinda bad, though, about how I left you guys in a lurch. And by “a lurch,” I mean, “with very little chance of winning the NBA championship we almost won when I was there but didn’t.”

You were always so good to me. Worshipful, really. I guess you really liked the fact that I grew up in Ohio, huh? “Hometown Hero Brings City to Brink of First Championship in It’s History.” That was a nice part of the story.

But hey, I think we would both agree that it was time for me to go. Or at least, I would. I had to spread my wings and fly! And Dwyane and Chris were not about to move to Cleveland. “The Mistake by the Lake,” Dwyane told me he calls it! Funny guy, man. Funny guy. 

And now, with one title already under my belt—boy, was that a relief! Believe me! I can’t really describe the feeling… you wouldn’t understand—I’m playing the best basketball of my career! Twenty-three straight wins. Can you believe it?!

Man, that “Decision” sure has worked out well for me, hasn’t it? How many championships do you think I’ll win when I’m here? Three? Five? SEVEN? I’m only 28 years old, for Pete’s sake! Whatever the final tally will be, I think it’s safe to say that I, that we—me and Miami, I mean—will be dominating the league for a loooooooong time. I wish they could give out more than one championship trophy every year. It would be nice if we both could win one.  

Love ya!

LeBron James