all that i wanted was the freedom of a new life, so my burden i began to divest.

Diplomacy is a board game similar to Risk, but without that special "realize one hour into the game that no one's having any fun" quality.  The biggest difference is that there's really no element of chance; you can be tricked, certainly, but the little armies and navies on the board win or lose their battles because of math, not dice.  Winning the game requires both an ability to cut deals and a keen understanding, as in chess, of the possible moves your opponent can make.  You can backstab people, but you can only do it successfully if you understand the likely consequences of your actions.

Last night, during his interview with Michael Wilbon, LeBron James -- barely containing his excitement, eyes constantly darting offscreen -- looked like he'd made a power play for the ages.

Is it fair for Cleveland to feel betrayed, to play the part of the spurned lover?  Certainly LeBron's method of delivering the news was historically cruel, narcissistic, even villainous -- his chances of being the NBA's savior died a brutally awkward, bizarre death last night on primetime television.  But did he owe Cleveland six more years of servitude?  To paraphrase Chris Brown, I wonder if the people who are so upset with LeBron leaving have always worked for the same employer. 

James' first seven years were the best first seven years by any player in the history of the NBA, and he elevated a terrible franchise into the ranks of the NBA's elite.  A la Wilt Chamberlain, LeBron, the sole reason for the Cavs' playoff runs during his tenure in Cleveland, also took the brunt of the blame for the team's inability to win a championship.  Lest we forget, in the haze of the present backlash and his failures in the Boston series, James came as close to willing a team to a championship as any player has ever done last year; only Hakeem Olajuwon has ever logged a higher Player Efficiency Rating in a postseason.

There's no doubt that LeBron held the franchise hostage, especially since 2006.  The Cavaliers FO had to cater to his every whim to an almost unprecedented degree.  That said, there's a clear line of mistakes that explain James' departure.  The team could have had Bosh two years ago, and didn't; they could have had Jason Kidd two years ago, and didn't; they could have had Amare Stoudemire this year, and didn't.  Instead, James ended up with an inconsistent and undersized combo guard in Mo Williams, a terminally out-of-place Antawn Jamison, and the ghost of Shaquille O'Neal.  The team consistently tried to assuage James' demands with the next-best solution, and they lost him as a result.

Was going to the Heat the right call, though?  There are dire questions about how to incorporate both LeBron and Wade, two high-usage guys who are mediocre jump shooters at best.  Can a great shooter be had on the cheap to alleviate the waves of zone defense that will be facing the pair?  Much of their success has come from running spread-out isolation plays, which could negate Bosh's value.  Speaking of Bosh, does anyone think he'll be able to run the pick-and-roll against Dwight Howard, Kevin Garnett, or Gasol/Bynum?  Does he roam outside the post, or does he remain out of position at center?  How does he begin to earn his contract?

There are just so many questions about this team, about the kinds of role players they can get to fill out the roster, about how they match up against the Magic, Celtics, and Lakers.  As it's currently constituted, the 2010 Heat will have Bosh at center, a position he hates; LeBron at point forward, a position he hates; and Wade roaming off the ball, minimizing his talents.  The Heat will be unstoppable on the fast break, but who knows about their half-court offense?  The defense will be flashy, but who says it can't be outmuscled inside?  It's a classic illustration of why center and point guard are the two most important positions in basketball.  Even with those questions in the post and on the perimeter, though, it's a monstrosity in-between.  If Spoelstra or Riley suddenly develop a hint of innovation, it could be legendary.

That said, it doesn't have to work for people to hate it.  Oh yes, this team is marketable, perhaps the most marketable since Jordan's Bulls.  And again, like those Bulls, it'll come into next season attached to a colossal bandwagon.  But the mockery of the system inherent in the construction of this team, along with "the Decision," gives this Big Three a shot at the Detroit Bad Boys' title of most hated team of all time.  The All-Stars' decision to join forces couldn't have been worse for the Eastern Conference, either, which enters next season even more of a top-heavy joke than it was before.

And I promise you this:  I will hate this team.  I like Bosh -- he's a pretty funny guy, after all -- and I really like Wade, whose supernova talent has gone underappreciated in the thick mire of Miami mediocrity.  But the overwhelming arrogance of it all, the collusion dating back to the Olympics, the re-emergence of the NBA's ultimate dirtbag, Pat Riley -- the possibilities for schadenfreude are limitless.  If this abomination makes it to the NBA Finals and plays the Lakers, I'll root for the Lakers.  Hell, I'd even root for the Jazz.  There's too much of the conservative gene in my makeup to accept something this brazen.

And LeBron James?  He's waiting, breathless, to see if he and his friends' ploy is going to work out.  Waiting to see if there's anything anyone can do to stop it.  Waiting, like all of us, for the other shoe to drop.