Two new books trace the climb to player empowerment.

The arc of history in the NBA bends toward player empowerment. Two books released this spring illuminate how the league got here.

"LeBron," by Jeff Benedict, is a superb biography of the NBA superstar, who was raised by a single mother living in the projects of Akron, Ohio. James made himself into not only one of the league's top three greatest players ever – with Michael Jordan and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar (pick your own order) – but also became a multimillion-dollar business tycoon.

James this year surpassed Abdul-Jabbar as the league's all-time scoring leader. After his Los Angeles Lakers defeated Memphis in a first-round series in April, James tied former Laker Derek Fisher for the most playoff series wins in league history, with 40. James, playing in his 20th season, is trying to win his fifth championship.

For all this, James' greatest impact on the NBA may turn out to be as a pioneer in player empowerment, defined two ways. First is the ability of top players to demand trades and dictate which teams they will play for. The second is star players leveraging their wealth and status to turn themselves into business entrepreneurs.

Jordan, of course, was the first NBA superstar to become a global brand, thanks to his many endorsement deals. James has taken branding to another level, working with his business associates to build wealth through enterprises they control. James will no doubt follow Jordan in becoming a part owner of an NBA team someday, possibly when the league expands to Las Vegas.

Benedict’s book tells the story of when James was publicly vilified after “The Decision,” the one-hour special on ESPN in 2010 in which James announced he would leave his hometown Cleveland Cavaliers to sign with the Miami Heat.

Free agency existed in basketball before, but James’ decision to form a “super team” with fellow All-Stars Dwyane Wade and Chris Bosh seemed earth-shattering. Fans and members of the sports media ripped James for having the ego to turn his announcement into a TV special, and for being a “ring chaser” at the expense of his hometown Cavs. James’ “taking my talents to South Beach” declaration became a national punch line.

James’ business advisers, all longtime friends from Akron, describe to Benedict how the project came about and tell how King James handled the fallout amid other off-the-court challenges.

Sports and society at large have changed so much since 2010. Parents hold “gender reveal” parties for their unborn offspring, sometimes taped for broadcast on reality television. Selection shows and sports drafts, even fantasy drafts, occupy TV real estate that was once reserved for actual competition.

The move to South Beach worked out pretty well for James. The Heat won the NBA championship in 2012 and, after adding Hall of Famer Ray Allen, won the title again in 2013.

In the summer of 2014, James returned to the Cavaliers, where he won another championship ring with teammates Kyrie Irving, Kevin Love and J.R. Smith.

Other star players such as Kevin Durant, James Harden and Irving have taken the empowerment baton and run with it, demanding new teams to play for when it suits them. The trend is also taking hold in the NFL.

Saving the soul of the NBA

James deserves credit (or blame) for the practice, but today’s stars also stand on the shoulders of other pioneers, going back to the 1960s and ‘70s. Their stories are told in “Black Ball: Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Spencer Haywood, and the Generation That Saved the Soul of the NBA,” by Theresa Runstedtler.

Runstedtler, a professor of history focusing on race and sports at American University, portrays the successful legal battles of Connie Hawkins and Spencer Haywood to challenge NBA rules that kept them sidelined, as well as other figures in the struggle, including Oscar Robertson and Kareem Abdul-Jabbar.

The Black Power movement that came to life in the 1960s helped fuel the players and their legal teams, but perhaps even more important was the creation of the American Basketball Association, the rival league that broke the NBA’s stranglehold over player salaries, career movement and the unwritten quotas the league maintained for the number of Black players on each roster.

Hawkins, a playground legend from New York City, had his college career at the University of Iowa derailed over his association with Jack Molinas, a sports gambler implicated in a college point-shaving scandal.

The NBA blackballed Hawkins, who was reduced to playing in minor leagues or for the Harlem Globetrotters. The upstart ABA was in need of basketball talent, so Commissioner George Mikan gave the OK for Hawkins to join the ABA. The Pittsburgh Pipers signed “The Hawk.”

Meanwhile, a lawyer named David Litman sued the NBA on Hawkins’ behalf, arguing the league was violating federal antitrust laws by restricting Hawkins’ employment options. Hawkins won the case and became a four-time all-star with the Phoenix Suns, but he was robbed of the early part of an NBA career when he was in his prime.

Runstedtler’s book made me nostalgic for the ABA. I regret never attending an ABA game in person, but I grew up watching Julius Erving and the New York Nets work their magic on television.

“Little did Mikan and the ABA team owners realize that their upstart league would change the color of the game in more ways than one,” Runstedtler writes. “It would soon become an incubator for a new style of pro ball – Black ball – and its existence would help spur Black players to lead a more forceful push for higher compensation, better contract terms, and more control over their careers.”

The high-flying dunks of Erving and Hawkins, and the wizardry of Earl Monroe, represented a style of play that came to define pro basketball in the 1970s. As Runstedtler writes, that created a backlash among a significant segment of white fans.

Haywood rewrites NBA rules

Haywood made a stop in the ABA before forcing his way into the NBA. He was a prodigious talent who played for a junior college, the U.S. Olympic team (which won gold at Mexico City in 1968), and for the University of Detroit. After his sophomore season, Haywood turned pro, signing with the ABA’s Denver Rockets. That year he earned league MVP, rookie of the year and MVP of the all-star game.

The NBA’s Seattle Supersonics offered Haywood a contract but an NBA rule stated that players had to be four years removed from high school to play in the league.

Haywood grew up in Alabama picking cotton with his mother and other family members for $2 a day. He felt financially victimized by the NBA’s rule and sued the league.

Haywood’s case went to the U.S. Supreme Court, which in March 1971 ruled in his favor and Haywood enjoyed a fruitful NBA career. Countless NBA stars, including James, benefited from the four-year rule being overturned.

Runstedtler sometimes goes into too much detail about each step of the pivotal legal cases she writes about. At that point it feels like we’re reading “Homework: The Book,” to paraphrase a line from Shiv Roy on “Succession.”

Overall, Runstedtler’s book serves as a worthy companion to Benedict’s “LeBron,” encompassing six decades of pro basketball players fighting for control in their careers.