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Is this how the tail end of the career of one of the two or three greatest basketball players of all time should play out, to be stuck inside that Doge’s Palace of dark mutterings and betrayals and shivs inserted in ribs that is the Los Angeles Lakers?
I have become an unwitting expert in exquisite dysfunctional sports management, having spent a lifetime rooting for the Mets and the Knicks. I know the smell of management rot, and it is unsatisfying to contemplate LeBron James playing out his career for this collection of nincompoops.