LeBron James and Dwyane Wade are such friendship goals.
Like they’re about to play each other here and LeBron just STRAIGHT UP GLOMPS HIM.
“MY FRIEND. MINE.”
Like LeBron got in trouble with his coach for bro-ing out too much with Wade on the sidelines during a Miami vs Cleveland game.
ALSO NERD BFFS.
And then there’s shit like this:
“If we played ‘The Newlywed Game,’” Union [Wade’s wife] admits, “I don’t know if I’d have more information on my husband than Bron would.”
Wade laughs. Like the fact that whenever he is running late to meet James at a group dinner, there is only one person the finicky Heat guard can entrust with the culinary decision-making. Even when Union is also waiting at the table. “My wife wouldn’t know what to order,” Wade says, “but Bron’s like, I got it.” Two years ago, at just such a dinner in New Orleans, Union could only watch, deeply confused, as James unilaterally picked sea bass for a man who’d expressed a lifelong distaste for fish. “It’s what I wanted,” her husband would later explain, shrugging. “Bron got me on sea bass.”
There are, by Union’s eye-rolling estimates, “a thousand and one instances like this” – each of them underscoring a rapport as heartfelt as it is quotidian. Like how often Wade and James trade not only text messages but voice notes, shamelessly played on speakerphone. (“Texts take away from the tone of what you’re trying to say,” Wade points out.) Or how the two used to stay at each other’s homes during road trips to their respective NBA cities instead of at hotels. Or how relentlessly they crack each other up, in person, without uttering any actual words. (“They’re like twins,” more than one mutual friend suggests.)