The Hills of Akron

When I was in high school I played soccer.  For a small town in Connecticut, we had a good team.  I loved playing, but I hated training; especially running the hills behind our field—a punishment that I avoided as much as possible.

Last weekend I got the chance to go to Ohio for the launch of LeBron James’ newest Nike signature shoe.  The actual launch took place at the local Akron community center where James played basketball in when he was growing up.  It was an Event: Keenan Thompson from SNL was the MC; Nike webcast the event globally; national ESPN reporters were filing reports on location.  And of course, James himself was there to answer questions.

The trip, however, wasn’t all about flashing the newest shoes for the camera.  It was, as much as anything, a chance to see the Akron in which LeBron James grew up, and the community that nurtured him and allowed him to become the superstar that he is today.

Over the course of two days, we travelled around the area and met a number of people that had an impact on James’ career.  I had never been to Akron before this, so I had no frame of reference—only the impressions I was left with.

We visited the Summit Lake Community Center, where James first learned to play basketball when he was six or seven years old.   Walking into the entrance, it felt like any other well-worn community center, except on the wall next to the gym entrance, and above the old trophy case, was a large collage of cut-out magazine covers and newspaper articles featuring James.  There was a handwritten note saying “We Love You LeBron”—the type of note you’d expect to see attached to an All-Conference announcement at another school.

Coach Frank Walker walked us through the same gym where he’d coached kids for 20 years, including James.  The temperature inside the old gym was noticeably hotter.  The air was thick.  The polyurethane coating underneath the backboards was worn away from years and years of use.

We visited St. Vincent-St. Mary high school where James and his core group of basketball playing friends—The “Fab 5″— attended.  The school at which they won the National Championship in 2003.

As I walked through the main entrance of SVSM I noticed a sign above the door, donated by the 1983 Student Council.  It read “Through These Doors Walks A Winner.” This type of sign probably adorns some wall of most high schools around the country.  I bet students walk underneath it everyday and give it no thought at all.  I’m sure there are some that couldn’t tell you what it says if you asked them.  That sign was hanging above the door for a decade before LeBron James walked underneath it as a student.

I couldn’t help but wonder, do people look at it differently now?  Did LeBron notice it when he was there?

Today, SVSM is the high school “where LeBron James played.”  You can’t escape it. What does it mean for the young kids of Akron?  Are they more inspired having that story right in front of them?  By contrast, there used to be rumors that someone in our high school league could dunk—though I never saw it myself. That’s quite a difference.

I don’t know what impact going to the same school as LeBron James has on the people that come after him. I don’t know if you play any harder because you’re practicing on the same worn-down wooden floors that he played on.  I’d guess that a lot of it is subtle and subconscious.

If I wanted to point to one sign though, it’s what I saw as we were leaving the school. SVSM has a steep hill that runs out behind it.  As our bus circled  to leave, I saw two kids—maybe seven or eight years old—running up and down the hill behind the school.  They were laughing, but they were working; training.  I used to hate running hills when I played sports in high school, and this hill was a hell of a lot steeper.

On a Friday afternoon in the late summer these two kids chose to go and run hills together.  As I watched them run up the hill behind the school where he saw such levels of success, I couldn’t help but wonder: would they have been doing it they didn’t have his story somewhere in the back of their minds?