What LeBron James and my college application process have in common

I applied early decision to Stanford my senior year in high school. No other school matched it's unique blend of academics, athletics, warm weather, and proximity to Hawaii. It was my holy grail of higher education.

I had initially dismissed applying because my GPA was solid, but not immaculate. I secured a recommendation from a trustee, scored well on the SAT and SAT 2s, and -- the trump card -- I had a positive meeting with the Cardinal Crew Coach, who was impressed with my US Junior National Team kayaking background, and agreed to talk to the Admissions department on my behalf. By the time the letter arrived from Stanford a month later, I was convinced it would announce my acceptance.

It did not.

I calmly expressed my frustrations by punching a hole in my bedroom wall and went into a two month depressive funk, convinced my life was officially ruined.

It was not.

I iced my knuckles, swallowed my pride, and put the stunning rebuke behind me. I sent out applications to a number of schools, got accepted to a few, and eventually selected Pomona College.

Pomona was the polar opposite of Stanford. Stanford had over 18,000 students. Pomona had 1,500. Stanford played in the Pac-10. Pomona played in the SCIAC (I still don't know what that stands for and, frankly, don't think anyone does). Stanford was located in the heart of Silicon Valley. Pomona was located in the heart of the Inland Empire. In fact, Pomona was completely different than the type of school I envisioned when I started the college search.

It was also the perfect school for me.

I needed a school where I could make mistakes and still wind up on my feet. A school that helped me figure out who I was and what I wanted to do. I would have been lost in the shuffle at Stanford. Drowning in the deep end of the pool. Pomona's small size and tight knit student body provided the ideal setting for me to develop emotionally and intellectually. If I had it to do over again, I wouldn't change a thing, rejection and all. Suck it, Stanford. (As you can see, I'm still very mature about the ordeal.)

Now, twelve years later, my favorite basketball team, the Chicago Bulls, is on the precipice of a similar life altering decision. They spent the last three years dismantling a failed playoff contender, cutting ties with productive players in preparation for the summer of 2010 and the unprecedented free agent class. Now, it's senior year. Time for the Bulls to submit their applications, and, much like me back in High School, the Bulls have a clear favorite.

The Bulls are applying early decision to LeBron James University, the Stanford of the NBA. No other player can match his unique blend of athleticism, size, speed, strength, scoring, shooting, passing, rebounding, and defense. He is the holy grail of professional basketball.

Two months ago, I never considered LeBron a possibility for Chicago. All sources confirmed that he wanted to stay in Cleveland, his hometown. But that was before the playoffs. Before his unceremonious second round exit, the meeting with the Stanford Crew Coach of LeBron's decision making process, if you will.

Then rumors started swirling. Sources close to LeBron said he would consider leaving. Now, it's a different story every day. On Monday, the New York Times quoted an Eastern Conference General Manager saying that LeBron James to the Bulls was a done deal. On Tuesday, Stephen A. Smith reported that LeBron would join Dwayne Wade and Chris Bosh in Miami. Today, the Cleveland Plain Dealer announced that the Cavaliers still have the edge to sign LeBron. (Plain Dealer? Really? If your primary newspaper is the Plain Dealer I think it's safe to say you're not a major metropolitan area. Thanks for playing, Cleveland.)

The only thing anyone can confirm is that no one has any idea where LeBron is going, possibly including LeBron himself.

But here's what I do know: The Chicago Bulls offer LeBron the best chance to win, both now and in the future. They have the necessary cap space to sign him and another premiere free agent to maximum deals (NBA regulations set the maximum dollar amount and contract length to which a player can sign). They have a budding superstar in Derek Rose, a top-5 rebounder and defensive center in Joakim Noah, an underrated swingman in Luol Deng, and a great hustle player and rebounder in Taj Gibson. No other NBA franchise can offer LeBron James the same combination of cap space and talent. If LeBron wants to win, the choice is clear.

Unfortunately, that leaves me in the same unsettling position I found myself in twelve years ago: I have utterly unrealistic expectations about a complete uncertainty. In 1999, Stanford's admission rate was approximately 12%. I'm only kidding myself if I think LeBron's chances of signing in Chicago are any higher. Yet, I am both confident and excited that LeBron James will join the Chicago Bulls. Anything less will be a complete letdown.

Two months ago, I would have been ecstatic with Chris Bosh or Joe Johnson. Even Carlos Boozer in a Bulls uniform would have given me a momentary erection (look, it's been a long time since we had a low post scorer and, no, that is not a euphemism). Now, it's LeBron or bust.

But what does bust mean? And is it really the worse option in the long run?

Without question, LeBron James gives the Bulls the best chance to win a championship. But he's not really our basketball player. He belongs to Cleveland. He grew up in Cleveland. He was drafted by Cleveland. He's played his entire career in Cleveland. If he became a Bull, we'd be leasing him from the state of Ohio. It might be a lease with an eventual option to buy, but it's not a guarantee. He may never truly belong to Chicago.

Michael Jordan played his entire career for the Chicago Bulls. (The years with Wizards never happened. You got that? NEVER HAPPENED.) As Bulls fans, we watched him grow and develop into the greatest of all time. We watched him learn. We watched him work. We watched him struggle. We watched him lose to the Pistons in the playoffs again and again and again. Finally, we watched him dismantle the Pistons and the Lakers to assume what we always knew was his rightful place atop the NBA.

Would that first title and the subsequent decade long run of dominance mean as much to me if Michael Jordan was drafted by the Trail Blazers instead of Sam Bowie and spent the first six years of his career in Portland before signing a free agent contract to play with the Bulls in the summer of 1990?

I honestly don't know.

Put a different way, if LeBron decides to join the Bulls and leads the team to it's first post-Jordan Championship, will it be as satisfying as the first six?

Again, I honestly don't know.

Maybe, in the long run, it would be better, from a fan's perspective, to sign a lower tier free agent like David Lee and let Derrick Rose continue to develop into a superstar and team leader. They wouldn't win a championship right away, and they might never win one, but if they did, it'd be because Derrick Rose developed into a transcendent superstar and we'd get to experience the joy of watching that championship grow and develop. The destination made that much sweeter because of the journey.

Right now, I don't believe that. I want LeBron and I want him badly. I want the opportunity to watch the best player in the world, once again, play for the Chicago Bulls.

But twelve years ago, I thought I wanted to go to Stanford.

So, in one week, when LeBron announces he is staying in Cleveland, I'll think of twelve years ago and hope the Bulls find their Pomona. I'll also try not to punch a hole in my wall. Because that really hurts.