A good part of sports is about believing in the unlikely and clinging to hope in the face of long odds.

In Cleveland the enduring faithful have surely had their belief heavily trampled upon and tested more than most.

The hometown football team not only has never won a Super Bowl, it hasn’t won any NFL title, Roman numerated or not, in 50 years. And that’s still better than the baseball team that hasn’t won a World Series since 1948.

Yet, through more than a half-century of heaping helpings of heartbreak — Earnest Byner’s fumble in the 1987 AFC title game, the original Browns’ move to Baltimore, a blown American League Championship Series in 2007, the trade of Rocky Colavito, you name it — they have stubbornly clung to the hope that something good is just around a bend in the Cuyahoga River. Often while still muttering "Go to hell, Art Modell!" under their breath.

So, what are the seemingly cursed fans to make of the mounting speculation these last couple of days that LeBron James, the object of the affection of half the teams in the NBA, might just return to northwest Ohio for more than just the usual family visit?

Especially amid all the Tweets touting his impending return.

Folks still smarting today from the announcement of "The Decision" four years ago that sent their homegrown hope to South Beach are left to wonder: Are King James and his agent, Rich Paul, about to deliver a turnaround feel-good tale for the ages? Or spring the most cruel tease of all?

You hope that this isn’t just another angle being orchestrated by Paul to gain leverage in Miami, Houston, Phoenix, Dallas or anywhere else where the bidding is mounting.

We know the Cavaliers have taken it seriously, and not just because they have tied Kyrie Irving up for at least six years and are investing in a youthful lineup of lottery picks. But because owner Dan Gilbert has, after all this time, pulled his venomous "LeBron letter" off the team’s website.

That’s the surest sign yet that rapprochement is in the wind. From a man who trashed James as a "deserter" and branded his departure a "cowardly betrayal," this isn’t an olive branch — it is formal beseeching on a bent knee.

Imagine the protagonists in a war colder than anything that blows across Lake Erie in the winter really burying the hatchet somewhere other than in each other’s backs.

For their part, four years after they burned his No. 23 jersey in the streets in rage and James’ image was torn from the sides of buildings in downtown Cleveland, fans have shown the eagerness to forgive and forget.

Now we see if it is requited. For the four-time MVP has it within his power to not only bring a championship, or two, to long-suffering Cleveland but return a conquering hero in the process. The multi millions will always be there, but you don’t get many chances at a redemptive story line like this.

It will be remembered that Gilbert ended his infamous "letter" in 2010 with the lines, "Sleep well, Cleveland. Tomorrow is a new and much brighter day …"

This time, for Cleveland’s tortured soul, you hope he’s finally right.

Reach Ferd Lewis at flewis@staradvertiser.com.