Mike Celizic

LeBron James turned 21 Friday. For most people, that would be a milestone. But for him, the celebration will probably be quiet and scandal-free, because in many ways, LeBron James has been way older than 21 for a long, long time.

Three full years ago, he was in high school, living, as he had from when he was born, a semi-nomadic life with his mother, herself just 16 years older than he, and no father that he could ever remember. Home was the part of Akron where bad things happen to kids both innocent and otherwise, the part that is so hard every day to escape, the part where despair and hopelessness reign.

He had talent. We knew that. But we’ve seen plenty of others who have had worlds of talent at similar ages and never knew what to do with it. Or, if they did, they brought so much baggage with them to the arena, it was difficult for the paying customers to cozy up to them.

In any event, we expected that it was going to take time for him to grow into the NBA. That’s just the way it is. It’s a man’s game and he was just a kid with a lot of talent. Even Kobe Bryant took four years to really hit stride. It was unfair to expect anything different, even from a man saddled with the title of the next Michael Jordan.

So now it’s two years and a couple of months since he debuted with Cleveland, and the one thing we know is he’s not the next Michael Jordan. He’s already better than Jordan was at the same age. He’s not the next anything. He’s the first LeBron James.

And we’re the lucky ones who get to watch him, the generation that years from now will get to say we were there when LeBron James got his start.

James isn’t just a good player or a star. The youngest player to score 4,000 points in the history of the game, he’s already the game’s brightest star, a kid who can not only do things on the court that the rest of us can’t even dream of, but one who can step into a commercial and play multiple roles as if he were Eddie Murphy. He’s already hit the sky, and that’s not even close to his limit.

The NBA has been desperate for a star who could bring people to the game the way Magic and Michael and Bird did. LeBron James is that man.

Three years ago, I would have said it was possible, the same way it’s possible that Osama bin Laden will walk into an American Embassy and turn himself in, but I didn’t think it was likely. My reasoning was simple: No one had ever erupted fully developed in the game before. There was no reason to suspect he would be the first.

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He was poor. He had no father. He grew up in the hood. And he was getting millions of dollars dumped into his lap by people who weren’t ever going to tell him anything but exactly what he wanted to hear.

All I had to do was put myself in his shoes to know that isn’t a scenario likely to produce a happy ending.

Think about what you would have done if, when you were 18 years old, someone had handed you millions of dollars and told you that you were a Master of the Universe.

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I’ve run that scenario many times through the intellectual flea market that passes for my consciousness, and I never come out intact. I know what I was like at 18, and it wasn’t anything that could have handled money and fame without something bad happening.

I’m pretty sure I’m not alone in that. The law may say that we’re adults at 18, but that doesn’t make us grown up; it doesn’t confer maturity on us. It takes time for that.

That’s why I was more than a little worried for LeBron James when he was in his senior year of high school and heading for the NBA. He did some things that year that suggested he might not be ready for what was ahead.

There was the incident with the freebie throw-back jerseys that got him kicked out of the state tournament and his reaction to it, which was essentially to claim entitlement. He was taking advice from a friend of his mother, and the fear was that it was just a hustler who was going to take him for all he was worth. Then there was the Hummer his mother, who never had two nickels to rub together, magically was able to purchase for him.

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Rules, it seemed back then, weren’t for LeBron James. And when you thought about him going into the very adult world of the NBA, you wondered how he was going to cope. Would it be all about him? Would he be one of those guys who thinks he doesn’t have to listen to the coach or do the work or show up on time? How long would it be before there was an incident with a woman or drugs, a wrecked car, a fight with a teammate who was getting too much spotlight for James’ liking?

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