ABOVE: Please forgive the annoyingly distracting yellow noodle behind LeBron. It was every man (and skinny camera-bearing journo) for himself in the media dugout area, and there was no way I could move. So just embrace the noodle.

It was significantly smaller in scale than previous years, but LeBron James still managed to receive a disturbingly Jesus-like reception at the ”King for Kids” bike-a-thon this past Saturday: The Plain Dealer reports that one excitable child even screamed, “I touched his hand! I touched his hand!”

Kids, the man plays basketball. He doesn’t cure leprosy. Although I have witnessed him part throngs of people like Moses.

Then came exactly what Cleveland had asked for, but exactly one month later than most of us wanted it:

“To the city of Cleveland, my fans in Cleveland, Northeast Ohio,” LeBron addressed the enraptured crowd. “I want to say thank you for the last seven years, and the years in the future.”

You could almost hear his inexpert, woefully unprepared publicity team coaching him in the background: “Thank Cleveland! Whatever you do, don’t forget to thank Cleveland!”

Personally, I like that he threw “Northeast Ohio” in there for good measure. He clearly wanted to cover his bases—as if Youngstown, Canton and Elyria might start jumping down his throat for not personally paying tribute to each of them, as well. I think watching LeBronesque paraphernalia burn on television has made the King a little gun shy.

Admittedly, it’s difficult to pin down exactly what Cleveland really wants from him, although, this weak-spirited thanks? … Probably not it. Perhaps if the ESPN-hosted LeBron-a-thon from a month ago had been 90% devoted to extolling the virtues of his homeland, that might have soothed some of the sore feelings.

Frankly, I doubt it. But the succession of slaps to the face that LeBron has delivered to C-town fans—including commissioning a full-page ad only days before the bike-a-thon that pointedly thanked only Akron for their love and support—certainly didn’t help his case.

By the way, LeBron. L-Train. King James. (May I call you Bron-Bron?) … Hire me. You’d be doing yourself a favor. I don’t even have a degree in PR, but I’ve dealt with enough publicity kingpins to boast with confidence that I can do more to salvage your image than your posse of sycophants. (Also, we really need to have a long talk about your tweets.)

But in general, Saturday’s bike-a-thon was a fairly tame and dramatically down-sized affair. A crowd of only about 1,000 spectators showed up, and the eight-mile bike ride that has followed the short ride in years past was axed. From where I stood, well after 9 a.m. South Main Street was still not filled. Even so, anti-LeBronners were nowhere to be found, and that was shocking.

Reactions on Twitter, on the other hand, were a completely different animal. I posted some pictures of a group of self-proclaimed Cavs fans in #6 jerseys, and the tweets I received were noteworthily ugly.

You might even say the retweets and replies got a tad heated.

Sorry. Had to.

In other bike-a-thon news, Savannah “Sidekick” Brinson and Gloria James were also on-hand. Someone gave Gloria a horn, which was a mistake, but my ears will recover some day. Fortunately for the dignity of everyone involved, there was no one present at the event to make loud, punny jokes about Gloria riding in a certain cardinal direction.

Glad to see everyone was thinking of the children.

LeBron got a thank-you present in the form of a monstrous sign. At first I thought Akron was giving him the signs proclaiming themselves “LeBron land.” You know, the ones they took down the day after LeBron announced he would be leaving his Kingdom. But, no, it was a St. Vincent-St. Mary’s Basketball sign.

Still. Say what you will about “King Quitness,” but too few celebrity athletes hold charity events of this size and significance. I for one am grateful that LeBron lends his mammoth-sized stardom to a good cause.

And, hey! It was fairly heart-warmingly adorable to watch when—during the Nickelodeon-sponsored game portion of the day—LeBron slimed the losing team.

… Even if, in many ways, I suspect Clevelanders felt a little slimed, too.