SAN ANTONIO – No smile, straight deadpan, LeBron James had told everyone the strategy of his historical rival team, of how the San Antonio Spurs essentially disrespected him within the concept of defensive coverage. They truly don’t guard me, James proclaimed, and he spoke honestly and knew this truth couldn’t return to San Antonio under a serious tone, and so a smile curled upon his mouth, backtracking ensued and credit was paid to an old championship guard with a winding, twisting explanation.

Across those two NBA Finals against this Spurs core, all the uncontested space, the pick-and-roll schemes, had come to feel strange for James, and his film study had confirmed it. He was so young in 2007, so close to obliterating this defense’s principles six years later. He broke through with a second consecutive championship last season, believing still that points were left on the court, opportune jump shots gone awry.

James had vented to people around him about everything the Spurs had taken away, insisting he’d recognize this play from the Gregg Popovich playbook again in the Finals. From IV bags to liquids, the Miami Heat’s training staff replenished James’ body and sharpened his regimen after the cramping debacle in Game 1 on Thursday.

James punctuated Miami’s 1-1 series tie with 35 points, 10 rebounds and three assists in the 98-96 victory on Sunday, displaying the purity of his repertoire – the jump shot’s tendencies coordinating with his ferocious basket attack. When James matches his inside disposition with the conniving outside approach, carrying variations of the Heat lineup that resembled his old Cleveland Cavaliers days, resistance is futile. Adjustments go in vain.

LeBron James dribbled and dribbled to his rhythm spots, releasing set shots and fade aways; unleashed jab steps on his defenders, wearing out Kawhi Leonard into six fouls; and decimated San Antonio’s clutch on his floor space.

“We didn’t expect LeBron to shoot that well," Danny Green said, “but he got hot. We didn’t look ourselves, either. He did what stars do in this league.

This wasn’t the everyday star’s task. James vanquished the Spurs, tarnishing San Antonio’s version of a rulebook against James once and for all, if only for one night. He danced, dazzled the basketball up and down and celebrated on the AT&T Center. The Spurs privately never believed in James’ ability to find balance so explosively on the court, find a comfort in his stroke that rivaled his 45-point performance in the Eastern Conference Finals in 2012.

Something had to change, James told himself, and an early wake-up call led him to the team hotel’s yoga class at 8 a.m. Sunday. None of his teammates were present, nor his traveling entourage. Something had to be altered, James asserted, and this yoga seminar freshened the body. Mostly, this was getaway, a removal of self from the bevy of opinions punched into his phone about how to solve his cramps, how to sustain his longevity in this final series.

Healthy and able, jump shot and paint game in sync, no player grasps the outline of perfection as deftly as James. With James on the court for 38 minutes in Game 2, everything changed for Miami. Rashard Lewis went off. Chris Bosh became a recipient of a beautiful game-clinching assist. Dwyane Wade came and went unburdened of uneven ball, exhausting the same tactics over and over. James uplifts his team, leaves the opposing veteran roster unsure and scrambling before an airplane flight to South Beach. And even so, all Miami accomplished with the win was establish the depth of the Finals. These Spurs will keep coming. They always do.

“I try to impose my will, scoring or rebounding or assisting,” James said. “I put myself and my teammates in position to succeed.”

He’s placing everyone in position to flourish now, and off he went to the Heat’s team bus late Sunday. Decked in blue, James had met his representatives and inquired about Johnny Manziel, the superstar client of his marketing agency. Johnny Football had long left the arena, attending the game in a Cavaliers hat, but this sight – James greeting his friends and friends of friends – was something else. Everywhere, the media shielded, pictures snapped of this perennial group.

He had recently told them all, told the world of a most daring revelation: These Spurs are demanding I shoot, no hands within sight on most attempts. Privately, James earnestly believed in his words – his theory of San Antonio’s defense – and only backpedaling made sense in the days leading up to the Finals. Oh, the Spurs’ hands rose for contesting and infiltration now, and LeBron James soared above them all and hit liberating daggers that could go a long way in a title three-peat.