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Tuesday is LeBron James' birthday. He's 41. That's not so old for a person. But for a basketball player, even one as supremely talented and fit as LeBron, it's a pretty advanced age. 

Given the unforgiving athlete actuarial table, there's been a fair amount of hand wringing about how much longer he'll keep playing. James hasn't announced anything, but that hasn't stopped people from reading the retirement tea leaves. Ahead of getting flattened last week by the Rockets, LeBron was asked about playing in his NBA-record -- at this point it's almost easier to list the things he does that are not NBA records -- 20th Christmas Day game. James has previously been pretty open about his fondness for those games and how much they mean to the league. Just last year he proudly proclaimed that "Christmas is our day," a good-natured but defiant shot at the NFL's hostile takeover attempt of the holiday. 

This time around James said all the right things about Christmas Day being "the game that I love" and the one he watched when he was a kid. He called it an honor to play in it. But he also added a candid caveat. 

"I'm gonna be completely honest," James said, "I would like to be home on the couch with my family all throughout the day. But our number is called, so we have to go out and perform and I look forward to it."

This raised some eyebrows. What does he mean he'd rather be home on the couch?! Which I thought was silly because who among us wants to work on a holiday rather than hang with loved ones and get a little sideways on eggnog? The man is human. Let him live.

Not long before that, LeBron was asked about whether Keyonte George -- who is having a breakout season in Utah -- should be an All-Star. James didn't try to fake a response. Looking cozy in a beanie and a hoodie, flecks of gray in his beard, LeBron replied that he was "the wrong guy to ask" because "I watch YouTube golf these days." The nonchalance was a bit unusual but not exactly Charles and Shaq doing "Who He Play For?" Still, it led to speculation among the pundit class about whether James was a little checked out and perhaps eying the door. 

It is how things go for James now. The grand accomplishments of his past have people wondering how soon his present playing days will give way to a very different future. It is simultaneously understandable and a little odd. Despite all the mileage -- he has played more seasons than anyone in NBA history -- LeBron remains extremely good at basketball. Last season, he made second-team All-NBA. It was his 21st consecutive selection, another record. 

This season, he missed the first 13 games with sciatica. As he was nearing his return, he was asked how he might fit in with the Lakers. The basic premise being that it was Luka Dončić's team now, and, oh by the way, Austin Reaves had stepped forward in his absence and signaled that he's an All-Star caliber player who was ready to be the 1A option moving forward. So where did all that leave LeBron, someone wondered. James, arguably the best player of all time, was incredulous. 

"I can fit in with anybody," James said. "I don't even understand why that was even a question. What's wrong with these people out here?"

That sort of annoyed reaction did not seem to me like someone who's ready to ease into a rocking chair and stake himself out a good spot at the staring window. Someone ought to go ask Luke Kornet if he thinks LeBron is washed. The poor guy probably wakes up in a flop sweat from what James did to him just a few weeks ago. 

LeBron's insistence that he can fit in with anyone wasn't just his ego talking. There's nothing he can't do on a basketball court. What he seemed to be implying was that he didn't need to be the primary scorer every night any longer, though he can still serve in that capacity as needed (as he did over the weekend when he victimized the Kings with 24 extremely efficient points, going 11-of-13 from the floor in the win). Beyond that, James retains a whole host of useful skillsets. He is, for example, one of the greatest passers of all-time and thinks the game better than just about anyone, ever. For proof of that particular concept, I'd like to enter into evidence the events on the evening of Dec. 4 in Toronto.

With the game tied at 120, LeBron took the ball at the top of the arc with four seconds remaining. He had eight points and could have forced his way to the rim in an attempt to extend his double-digit scoring streak, another NBA record that stood at 1,297 consecutive games spanning 17 years. Worst case scenario, he might have missed, the game would have gone to overtime, and the Lakers could have still won while he would have given himself an added opportunity to keep the streak alive. Instead he hit Rui Hachimura in the corner.

That was one of a game-high 11 assists LeBron had that night. Two weeks later in Utah, with Reaves unavailable, he had 10 more assists. James also got to the line 13 times and made 12 of his free throws. Maybe he won't be terrorizing the Luke Kornets of the league with sheer athleticism much longer, but it's those kinds of plays -- the passing, making the right reads, doing what's needed in a certain situation -- that have always been the secret sauce to his greatness. If he wanted to play an old-man, dad-bod style game where he whips assists around the court and runs at half-speed like he's the best grey beard dominating the local YMCA pickup game, he could absolutely do so and still have an impact into his mid-40s. 

The other thing to consider here on the matter of James eventually calling it quits is how he does it. It's hard to imagine him pulling a Tim Duncan and disappearing into the shadows one day without warning. He's LeBron. One-name superstars are industries all to themselves. You have to think that whatever act that comes after this will be preceded by a proper sendoff. When Kobe Bryant announced his retirement he spent an entire season touring the country and being feted at every stop. I covered his final appearance in Philadelphia, a game that doubled as both homecoming and a fitting farewell to one of the greats. He deserved it. So does LeBron. 

Maybe it's wishful thinking on my part, hoping that LeBron sticks around a while longer and that he still has plenty left to wring out of the basketball rag. He hasn't had anything left to prove in a while, and the allure of sitting on the couch with his family might win out sooner the later. But if we're going to speculate about how much more he'll play, I thought The Onion had one of the better contributions to date: "LeBron pressures Bronny to have grandchildren before he's too old to play with them in the NBA." Get going, Bronny. Time's ticking.