Lebron Stanley's having the unmitigated gall to finger wag and pop their chewing gum at the prospect of someone being a fan of a player is akin to Money Mike lecturing Mike Lowry for not being in a committed marriage. Lebron is a mercenary for hire. Much like the player, the overwhelming majority of his fans have no identity beyond the organization he's currently renting his AirBnB from.
As soon as he shuts down the function, every single one of them is running out the door behind him, eager to find out where they're going to party next. You'll find them in the old Cavs & Heat season threads. Those same buffoons spent nearly two decades praying for the Lakers failure. Ironically, because of a name that was on the back of the jersey.