By Brian Whitehead

Daily Titan Sports Columnist

Clint Eastwood. Joe Namath. Brooke Shields. The LeBron James Era.

The commonality between the four? They were all born on May 31. Eastwood, 1930. Namath, 1943. Shields, 1965. James’ Era, 2007.

It was an innocent Thursday night, with the NBA playoffs winding down and the San Antonio Spurs sitting comfortably at home waiting for a Finals opponent. The top-seeded Detroit Pistons hosted the Cleveland Cavaliers in game five of the Eastern Conference Finals: Chauncey Billups, Rip Hamilton and Rasheed Wallace vs. LeBron James, and uh, well, LeBron James.

(If you look up the definition of “one-man team” in the dictionary, you’ll find the following: my high school basketball team, every fantasy football team that had DeAngelo Williams last year, Vince Young’s 2005 Texas National Championship team and James’ 06-07 Cleveland squad. Remarkably, the hometown, fourth-year phenomenon had the city of Cleveland two wins away from a shot at their first championship since 1964.)

I still remember that night. Vividly. My friend and I sat in his room, watching the game like any other: first quarter, second quarter, third quarter. Then, in the blink of an eye, it happened.

Remember at the end of “Training Day” when the Russians bumrushed Denzel’s 1979 Chevy Monte Carlo and unloaded approximately 18,504 rounds of ammunition into the car, then fired another 500 more into Denzel’s helpless body just for good measure? Well, the final 22 minutes of game five went something like that, with LeBron assuming the role of the Russians.

Throughout the fourth quarter and two overtimes, LeBron proceeded to have the most memorable, physically dominating, awe-inspiring and entertaining scoring outburst of his career. To summarize, he scored a career playoff-high 48 points, 29 of Cleveland’s final 30, and the final 25 Cavalier points. Amazing. What can you possibly say? This wasn’t an Amateur Athletic Union, 24-Hour Fitness, intramural light-hearted basketball game. This was an Eastern Conference Finals game. In a hostile environment. Amazing.

Lebron James is pumped up during Game 5 of the 2008 NBA Eastern Conference finals against the Orlando Magic. Photo Courtesy MCT.

After the 109-107 Cleveland victory, my friend and I just sat there, staring at the screen, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Why didn’t they just put all five players on him? Was Flip Saunders coaching this game drunk? You think they’re gonna fire now or after the press conference?

It was unbelievable. The LeBron James Era had officially began, and we couldn’t have been more excited.

And here we are. Two and a half years removed from May 31, 2007, still excited about the potential of this seemingly ceiling-less LeBron James Era.

When LeBron entered the league in 2003, the news coverage was nothing short of suffocating. The man couldn’t fart without it being front-page news. Everything he did was analyzed like a federal subpoena, from his $80,000 Hummer (a gift from his mother) to his $90 million Nike contract (a gift from the heavens), no intricacy of his life was undisclosed. The 18-year-old phenom hadn’t played a professional game yet, and he was already being dubbed “The Next Michael Jordan.”

During this time, the NBA was desperate for an era-defining face. The Kobe/MJ comparisons never stuck (mainly because Kobe was so adamant about being the “First Kobe Bryant” and not the “Next Michael Jordan”). Tim Duncan never boasted a “Look At Me” attitude; Kevin Garnett and Allen Iverson never won anything; Shaq’s position stamped him as an “effective but not quite exciting” player; Tracy McGrady wasn’t doing anything people hadn’t seen before; and Steve Nash was still a year away from his back-to-back MVP seasons.

Thus, the NBA was banking on this St. Vincent-St. Mary prodigy to give us, the younger generation, our Jordan. And honestly, he hasn’t disappointed. At all.

His six-year resumé looks something like this: Rookie of the year (2004), three All-NBA first teams, two All-NBA second teams, five All-Star selections, two NBA All-Star game MVPs, one All-Defensive team selection, the 2008 scoring champion, the 2009 MVP, and a spot on the Mount Rushmore of one name athletes.

Yowzers.

The only accolade eluding LeBron? The most important of them all: an NBA Championship.

I predicted two things about LeBron a couple years into his career: 1. He was going to average a triple-double over the course of a season. 2. He was going to be the best NBA player in history. Yep, history. Will you mock me for thinking that? Of course. Will you completely disregard my opinion now? Absolutely. But am I that far off? I don’t think so.

Obviously, James needs to win at least a handful of championships before he can even be mentioned in the same breath as His Airness, but just give the man some time. Greatness isn’t achieved overnight. You think Michelangelo painted the Sistine Chapel in 24 hours?

Michael Jordan won his first NBA championship in his seventh year, LeBron is going to win his first soon enough. Jordan’s first MVP award came in his fourth year, LeBron’s first came in his sixth. Jordan’s championship teammates included Scottie Pippen, Steve Kerr, Horace Grant, Dennis Rodman, Luc Longley and Tony Kukoc. LeBron’s teammates have been a collection of stiffs including someone nicknamed “Boobie.”

I’m not saying LeBron James is Michael Jordan; I’m not. I’m simply saying LeBron is getting dangerously close to Jordan territory.

Quickly.