LeBron James, pollo grande

He passed up the opportunity to be a New York hero,
the king of the great city,
perhaps to avoid the pressure cooker.
Instead, he’ll stand for the Heat in Miami,
where it may be a lot cooler than Hell’s Kitchen.

His face won’t be on a large billboard on Times Square,
and he’ll never ride in the Thanksgiving Day parade,
or have a sandwich named after him by an 8th Avenue deli.
But, there will be a new set of jerseys
with his name available for sale,
he’ll be welcomed in chic South Beach clubs…
and the locals may even create a big chicken sandwich for him.

“Is that, is that…James LeBron?” a Miamian will ask.
“He’s so big!”
“Yes, yes, it’s him. I’m going to name a chicken sandwich after him.
I’ll call it the…James LeBron pollo grande.
Maybe he will come in and buy one,
and my sales will increase.”

Why would a budding 25-year-old legend pass up the chance
to play 40-50 games a year at the mecca of basketball?
Would someone with ambition settle for someone else’s place,
and page three of the sports section in his new town?
It’s puzzling to New Yorkers,
but they’re getting over it at a typically fast speed.

Miami is getting over it, too.
It’s not hard when its sports fans don’t get on to it in the first place,
their minds already on Hurricanes and Dolphins.
Except for a few of those cafes and sandwich shops.
“Have a James LeBron pollo grande --
it’s not cheap, but it’s big.”