He was supposed to be a choker. A guy who shrank in the big moments. LeBrick. And after roughly 1 billion articles disparaging him after the Heat lost in the NBA Finals in 2011 to the Dallas Mavericks, it was apparent that the "LeBron James will never be Michael Jordan" argument was once again imminent. Then the 2012 NBA Playoffs happened. And LeBron showed the world that he had the coal-fired nuts to carry a team into the finals and obliterate all haters' hopes and dreams of watching him disintegrate into a fine powder. LeBron was an absolute freight train of devastation with his athletic prowess, littering the court with the decaying corpses of the Knicks, Celtics, and Thunder, telling any and all who doubted him, mocked him, and otherwise said ridiculous things about him to go and fornicate with farm animals. With a primal intensity usually reserved for professional assassins, LeBron came through with what was possibly the single greatest one-man performance ever witnessed in NBA Playoff history. He has carried those powers into the 2013 season, where he just won a fourth MVP award, which is something Michael Jordan never did. Grace and violence. Beauty and devastation. Poetry and triumph. LeBron James is a walking epic poem.