Holding your breath

Ever heard 18,000 people gasp at once? I never had either. Then I went to Wednesday's Cavaliers-Grizzlies game at Gund Arena.
Early in the fourth quarter, LeBron James went up for one of those purist-chafing Jordan fadeaway jumpers, which rimmed out. Memphis grabbed the rebound and hustled to the other end of the floor, where my eyes were following.
Then a mass "ooooh." from all sides. Back at the defensive end, LeBron was crumpled on the floor. Even from my upper-deck seat hundreds of feet away, I could see Cleveland's franchise was in excruciating pain. He writhed, flung off his protective mask and headband, and pounded the floor.
He reached for his left ankle. Not good. He reached for the back of his left ankle, right around his Achilles tendon. Really not good.
When LeBron came down from his jump shot, his foot landed on the foot of Dahntay Jones, a Memphis player who was guarding LeBron like his Siamese twin. That's the disadvantage of being one of the most lethal offensive players in the game. Paranoid defenders obsessed with not getting burned will stay close enough to smell the laundry detergent your jersey was washed in.
Teammates and the trainer, Max Benton, helped LeBron up and carried him toward the vomitorium. Near Cleveland's bench, he shrugged off further assistance and limped to the locker room to a hopeful standing ovation.
My friend Dave and I looked at each other, knowing full well the fate of the Cavs' season was being discovered about 100 feet below us.
The Grizzlies pared down a 10-point deficit and the game was slipping away. But then, Cleveland had its own Willis Reed moment when LeBron walked back out onto the floor. Now the pensive standing "O" from 10 minutes previous was replaced with uninhibited joy.
Shaking off the effects of what was diagnosed as a sprained ankle, LeBron keyed a final push with a steal and bucket to hold of Memphis for a 114-111 win.
Could he be the dragon slayer? In two NBA seasons, he has shaken off two ankle sprains and a broken cheek bone to miss a grand total of three games as of Friday.
Whatever curse and/or negative mojo the Drive-Fumble-Shot-Red Right 88 legacy has thrown at LeBron, whatever bad luck he has faced, he has stared it down and emerged even better.
They call him King James. If he slays Cleveland's dragon, if he reverses the spell that has prevented Cleveland from winning a major sports title for over 40 years, that moniker will fit more than we ever thought.