Now that I’ve made my decision to go to the Miami Heat, I have a special message for my fans back in Cleveland: I hate you, every last one of you. Your town was like a noose around my neck, and you and your stupid love and admiration was the tightest loop of all.
How much do I hate you? I strung you along for weeks, letting you think the Cavs were still in the running for my services. I scheduled an hour-long TV special about my decision, to make everyone think “there’s no way he’d do something like that and rip Cleveland’s heart out”. And that’s exactly what I did. Oh man, that was sweet!
Did you think I was actually going to stay? Jesus, are all of you that stupid?! I’ve been counting down the seconds to free agency since the day I was drafted. I’ve been bigger than that town since the day I was born. I said was a Cowboys fan. A Cowboys fan! I wore a fucking Yankees hat to an Indians playoff game against the Yankees. How could I have made my contempt for you dumbasses more obvious, without literally shitting on every single on of you?
You know why I disappeared in the playoffs this year? Because the thought of winning a championship for you people made me gag.
Am I bigger than Miami? Of course I am. If a better situation than Miami comes along, I’ll opt out of this contract so fast you won’t believe it. But at least Miami won’t give a shit when I do. That’s what makes this deal even better for me: I gave up Cleveland–a city that loves its teams even though they break its heart over and over again–for Miami, one of the worst sports towns in America. Oh, irony, you taste so sweet upon my lips!
God, I feel so free! You can’t imagine what this is like. And you will never know what this is like, because you’ll stay in that horrible town of yours until you drop dead of a heart attack or fall into a burning lake or however it is you people end your miserable lives.
This weekend, I’m off to party in South Beach, another place you’ll never be. I’m going to film this entire party on expensive HD cameras, put the best footage on a DVD, and mail copies to every single one of you. Then, I’m gonna send a guy to each of your houses to force you to watch it at gunpoint.
But first, I have to burn all of my Cleveland clothes, and take a shower to wash the stink of Failure-Town off my body.