THERE ARE, BY one recent count, 46 items banned from the All England Lawn Tennis and Croquet Club during the two-week tournament from Wimbledon. Among them are selfie sticks, which left superagent Rich Paul with a dilemma as he tried Tuesday afternoon to co-host the "Game Over" podcast he does with Max Kellerman from the venue.
Cell phones must be placed on silent during matches, and no calls are permitted from the stands. So earlier in the day Tuesday, when Paul needed to call Lakers president of basketball operations Rob Pelinka to inform him that his star client, LeBron James, would be continuing his basketball career elsewhere, he stepped into the Polo by Ralph Lauren store in the Southern Village to make the call.
For a week, neither James' camp nor the Lakers had exchanged formal or even informal offers, according to sources on both sides of the situation.
Nor had they discussed a vision for a future together, or even met face-to-face -- in person or virtually.
The Lakers called Paul a week before free agency, when teams could approach their own free agents, to try to arrange a videoconference with James and were told he wasn't available.
Paul didn't say why at the time, but he told ESPN it was because James had already decided he didn't want to return to the Lakers and that there was no need for a call.
The Lakers had approached all of their free agents in a similar manner. After an initial videoconference with Austin Reaves, an elaborate pitch meeting was scheduled at the team's facility.
Customized pillows and blankets were designed and presented to Reaves. Steaks were ordered in. His favorite country music was played. Soon afterward, he agreed to a new four-year, $185 million deal.
James didn't want any of that. After the season, sources close to James said the most important factor in him re-signing would be how the Lakers approached him.
He might have been willing to take a pay cut from the $52.6 million he'd made the season before, sources said, if the Lakers explained how they planned to reallocate the money.
They never did, and James never made himself available to meet. He had been a priority enough times in his career to know when he wasn't one.
By the time Los Angeles called a week before free agency, Paul said James was already "a thousand percent" certain he was ready to move on from the Lakers. That, Paul knew, was a significant shift from just a few weeks prior, when James told Paul he was "80%" sure he'd play another season with the Lakers.
Paul said he didn't press James for the reasons his thinking shifted over the course of the month, but he has some guesses.
The 10-day European trip James recently took to commemorate the 10th anniversary of the Cleveland Cavaliers' 2016 NBA title certainly provided him a contrast to his recent experience with the Lakers -- of what it was like to play championship basketball; to be celebrated and appreciated at the highest level; to have real, enduring relationships.
Or maybe James was finally ready to act on the writing on the wall that had been there for the past year -- when the Lakers declined to offer him an extension on his contract as they'd done twice previously, and started pitching their new face of the franchise, 27-year-old Luka Doncic, on why he should sign an extension with a team built around him.
Pelinka and coach JJ Redick presented those plans to Doncic and his manager, Lara Beth Seager, at L.A. hotspot Craig's on Melrose Avenue, and the group celebrated over a bottle of Opus One.
Left unsaid at that meeting was whether that future included one of the greatest players in NBA history.
But the pitch was clear: To build around Doncic, the team would need to use the $52.6 million salary slot James occupied to pursue younger, more complementary players.
It was a dilemma that hung uncomfortably over the entire season as James shifted between complementary and starring roles depending on which of his younger co-stars, Doncic and Reaves, was available.
It was the final year of an eight-year marriage that was often transactional and cold. In 2018, the most famous sports franchise in the world was mired in dysfunction and losses -- and grappling with its biggest fear as a worldwide brand: irrelevance.
James, the best and most famous basketball player in the world, had ended Cleveland's 52-year championship drought and needed another home.
And to bring the Lakers back? Another chapter in an already epic story. It was a perfect fit -- until it wasn't.
Now, with a new superstar in Los Angeles, the divorce is just as convenient.
THE MAN ON the other end of Paul's phone call had seen his share of bad superstar breakups, both involving his most famous client.
Pelinka had represented Kobe Bryant for much of his career, with a front row seat for two of the more tumultuous divorces in recent NBA history. There was summer 2004, when the Lakers broke up the pairing of Bryant and Shaquille O'Neal that had won three championships together by trading O'Neal to the Miami Heat.
Then there was summer 2012, when Dwight Howard left as a free agent to sign with the Houston Rockets rather than wait for Bryant to retire and become the new face of the franchise.
The bad blood, in both cases, came because two superstars couldn't figure out how to coexist, and the franchise eventually had to choose between them.
The difference, in this case, is that Doncic and James had coexisted well in the season and a half they were cast together. James had noticeably embraced a supplemental role last season after he saw how the team was playing behind Doncic and Reaves.
"I was put into some positions I've never been in before in my career, actually in my life," James said after the Lakers were eliminated by the Oklahoma City Thunder in the second round of the playoffs.
"I've never been a third option in my life. So to be able to thrive in that role, for that period of time, then to step back into that role that I've been accustomed to over my career, over my life playing this sport ... that was pretty cool for me at this stage in my career."
But pairing James with Doncic, superstars with many of the same basketball talents, was always more experiment than plan after the Lakers' shocking acquisition of Doncic in February 2025.
Pelinka made numerous promises to Doncic that he'd do everything he could to bring him a top-tier center and younger perimeter players whose shooting would help space the floor for him to operate.
Heading into this offseason, Pelinka and his new front office -- which now includes guidance from Los Angeles Dodgers executives Andrew Friedman and Farhan Zaidi -- came up with plans to deliver on the promises made to Doncic.
One set of plans included James, which Lakers sources maintain was their first choice.
Re-signing Reaves was a top priority. Then they'd pursue the top restricted free agent centers: Detroit's Jalen Duren and Utah's Walker Kessler. If they couldn't land either of them, they'd pivot to unrestricted free agency with New York's Mitchell Robinson.
James would have likely been offered what was left after a center was secured.
Another set of plans did not include James. Those looked similar, except they allowed L.A. to bolster its roster depth with free agent targets such as Sandro Mamukelashvili and Quentin Grimes.
It didn't take long for a fundamental problem to emerge.
The Lakers could offer James more than any other team because they held his Bird rights. But they deduced that the only way they could keep James and acquire a top-flight center -- their promise to Doncic -- was if James took a vastly reduced salary from his $52.6 million.
Even if they offered $10 million to $15 million more than any other team, James could still see their offer as a pay cut if another team was offering the most it was allowed to offer him, one team source explained. It was the curse of incumbency.
How could they present that to James without him taking it as a sign of disrespect? For weeks they held internal discussions on the matter.
Still, despite their deliberations, James saw through it. Like he has so often done on the court, he read the play before it happened.
He broke up with the Lakers before they could break up with him.
JAMES' TRIP WITH his 2016 Cavs teammates filled his social media feed late last month.
The trip began in London, then hopped over to Scotland for five days of golfing at Loch Lomond Golf Course and a stay at the Cabot Highlands.
Each player got custom Titleist golf balls, a leather bag, Meta sunglasses and clothing to wear on the links.
On the back of the windbreakers was the phrase, "Chosen Family."
The only Lakers team James speaks anywhere as fondly of as that Cavaliers team is the one he helped lead to the 2020 NBA title. But that championship was won in the bubble at the Walt Disney World Resort in Lake Buena Vista, Florida, amid the COVID-19 pandemic.
There was no celebration for that team in Los Angeles. A banner was hung from the rafters at Crypto.com Arena in May of the following season in front of a socially distant crowd.
They were unprecedented circumstances, and yet, they deeply affected James' impact and legacy in Los Angeles.
"We have not been able to do that, and it burns me because as a champion you should feel that," James once said on the "Road Trippin' Show" podcast with two of his former teammates in Cleveland, Channing Frye and Richard Jefferson. "You get the locker room celebration, which is amazing. But it goes like this [snaps his fingers].
"Then you go have the parade with the fans, celebrate with the community."
James has spoken numerous times about how much he valued that championship and the sacrifice it took to win in the bubble, cut off from family and the outside world for three months. On his own "Mind the Game" podcast, he called the bubble "the purest form of basketball."
Still, outsiders questioned the validity of the championship run.
"We just want our respect," James said on the podium after winning that 2020 title. "Rob [Pelinka] wants his respect, coach Frank [Vogel] wants his respect, our organization wants their respect, Laker Nation wants their respect, and I want my damn respect, too."
James asked for it then, thinking the case had been settled by winning the title.
And yet he still seemed to be clamoring for it at the end of his tenure in Los Angeles as he explained the sacrifices he made during the season at his final news conference.
One Lakers team source believes the franchise, which for decades was known for catering to its stars, didn't do enough for James.
"Honestly, I don't know if we did enough to acknowledge the sacrifices he made in being willing to give the keys over to Luka and AR this year," the staffer conceded. "Of course he has a big ego and people can say what they want about that. But he's also the No. 1 scorer in the history of basketball and he really tried to do what was best for the team to win."
Redick consistently praised James not only for his longevity in the sport but also his professionalism and willingness to play the role the team needed him to play this season.
There were moments, too, when James seemed at peace with the downshift in responsibilities and the new reality of his role. He led the NBA in fast-break points at age 41 because he was no longer counted on to lead the fast break.
March 21 in Orlando, Florida, was another.
James had broken Robert Parish's record for regular-season games played and had a chance to win the game for the Lakers. But Magic forward Paolo Banchero swatted his layup -- and part of his arm -- out of bounds with 2.6 seconds left to play. No foul was called, so the Lakers drew up another play, this time for sharpshooter Luke Kennard, who drilled a go-ahead 3-pointer with 0.6 seconds remaining to give L.A. its ninth win in a row.
James was the first person to run over to Kennard and lift him up in celebration.
The next morning, James, Kennard, Doncic, Reaves and Bronny James woke up early and joined a group of Lakers coaches for a round of golf at the Four Seasons' Tranquilo Golf Club in Lake Buena Vista before the team's 2 p.m. flight to Detroit.
The rules of a scramble game are simple: Each member of the group takes a shot. The group chooses its next shot based on whoever had the best shot.
The best player usually goes last on each shot, but the format allows for anyone to have a starring moment in a certain role.
On the golf course, where James was still something of a beginner, this was an easy ask. His son, Bronny, was a far more accomplished golfer, even. Reaves was the clear leader of this group, having once competed in a Korn Ferry tournament. But even he claimed to let Doncic win a hole to boost his confidence.
For years, James took every last shot. At the Four Seasons club in Orlando, he rarely did.
THERE WERE 18,997 people who gathered at Crypto.com Arena on May 11 to watch the Lakers play the Thunder in what would prove to be the final game of their season.
None had any idea that it would be the last game of James' eight-year residency in Los Angeles.
James had just turned in a historic performance in the first round, carrying the undermanned Lakers to an upset victory over the Rockets while Doncic was out because of a hamstring injury and Reaves was severely limited by an oblique injury.
Paul didn't even attend the game in person, choosing to attend to other clients in the playoffs that night.
But there was one person in attendance in L.A. who was there just in case. Nike executive Lynn Merritt, who once convinced James to sign a revolutionary shoe deal coming out of high school in 2003, has been in attendance for most of the big moments of James' career. The championships, the all-time records, the MVP presentations.
Merritt is semi-retired and doesn't leave his picturesque home on a biodynamic winery in Oregon's Willamette Valley much these days. But he was there for this second-round playoff game in Los Angeles, supporting James, just in case it was his final game as a Laker, or in the NBA.
The men hugged and caught up at James' locker after the game, too. Then James made his way down the hall to reflect on the season, his eight-year run in Los Angeles and his thought process on what lay ahead.
"None of us know what the future holds," James said that night. "I'll take time to recalibrate and look over the season and see what's best for my future. When I get to that point, everyone will know."
That day came six weeks later, with Paul stepping into the Polo store at Wimbledon to deliver the news to the Lakers.
The Lakers soon followed with statements and social media posts of appreciation from team governor Jeanie Buss and Hall of Famers Magic Johnson and Kareem Abdul Jabbar. James quote-tweeted the Buss statement a few hours later, thanking her and the organization.
The statements were drawn up, and the papers were signed.
It was all wrapped up in a tidy package. Despite a relationship that was often defined by mutual distrust and passive-aggression, everyone stayed on message. It was clean, sterile. This was a conscious uncoupling for both sides after eight years in a mostly loveless marriage.
It was a mutually beneficial relationship then, but now it no longer was, and there was no need to prolong the inevitable any longer.
