It's been just about...::checks watch::...two full days since Magic Johnson, acting on behalf of his beloved Lakers, signed the one and only LeBron James to a contract that is shockingly long in comparison to the professional obligations we've come to expect of the best basketball player and most alluring free agent in the sports world. Those unfamiliar with how quickly the NBA world rotates in the offseason might even say that makes it far too early to criticize his work. To those I say, what's this "work" you speak of? Let's be real, LeBron James was ready to promise himself to Los Angeles well before an unmistakeable smile lit up the living room of one of the homes that he already owns there. If the last 48 hours have proven anything it's that Philadelphia was the correct destination if winning was his priority, so the reasons for which he chose the City of Angels can hardly be accredited, either directly or indirectly, to its most renowned franchise's President of Basketball Operations. In fact, I'd imagine that all Magic Johnson really had to do was take LeBron by his non-almost-broken hand and walk him into the Lakers' front office to prove that it wasn't engulfed in the same type of flames that turned the Cleveland Cavaliers into an organizational dumpster fire for the King to feel comfortable picking out a new throne. I wasn't there, so maybe I'm underselling what went into making sure that the Lakers didn't sabotage a near guaranteed sale, but all that's happened since leads me to believe that we aren't exactly talking about a Pat Riley-esque powerpoint presentation here. Perhaps it's not fair to judge solely on paper, but it sure looks as though all the Lakers have done in the immediate wake of acquiring the most durable, versatile, and enduring of foundational pieces is gone quantity over quality in stacking it with suspect bricks. Never in my life have I seen a universal reaction that so quickly went from "whoa baby!" to "what in the actual fuck?" than I did when Los Angeles filled their remaining cap space with a combustible collection of miscreants. One year deals or not, the thought that Magic Johnson's first order of post-Bron business was trying to get Lance Stephenson to speak into the right end of the phone is mind numbing. How can Lakers' fans not be made furious by the idea that DeMarcus Cousins' bad blood was left to reach a boil during the pursuit of a far inferior player in JaVale McGee? Let's put it this way, if the light bulb that popped up over Earvin's head was filled with the idea that he had to overpay to get a repetitive roster piece, in Rajon Rondo, to curse out Lonzo while taking the Ball out of his hands then I think it's fair to reconsider its brightness. It's more likely than not that it's only a matter of time before Kawhi Leonard also joins the Lakers. That said, who's to say that his desire to give his thin skin a bake in the Southern California sun is never-ending? The Lakers thought Paul George was a guarantee, but Magic couldn't even get a goddamn meeting with the guy that chose Middle America over the city he spoke of as glowingly as the Catholic church references heaven. I could easily be made to eat my words prior to 2019, as the Lakers are undoubtedly headed in the right direction regardless of their management. That said, it's 2018 and they just surrounded maybe the best shot creator in the history of the sport with a team that treats the three point line like a dog treats an electric fence. I understand that the following question is premature and the answer is only in the initial stages of being made definitive, but are we sure that Magic Johnson has any damn clue what he's doing when it comes to actually evaluating and acquiring talent? Currently it seems as though he's a wee bit better at falling ass backwards into it.
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