LeBron James is the most talked-about basketball player in America - but he's still at school and can't earn a cent from his sport. The race to cash in on his future millions, however, has already begun

There are 100,000 high schools in the United States. Twenty-five thousand have a basketball team. Each team has 15 players on its roster, which means there are 375,000 schoolchildren currently playing organised basketball in this basketball-obsessed nation. Of those, 3,600 will be good enough to enjoy the four years of free education and campus adulation that comes with a college basketball scholarship.

But for a tiny minority, college is merely a staging post en route to the bigger prize: a spot in the NBA, America's professional league. Around 50 kids playing today can expect to go on and have a decent career in the pro game. Of these 50, possibly 10 will become All-Stars - a select group of athletes who endorse shoes, advertise soft drinks and who will retire to a life that stretches out like a long, lazy Barbadian summer.

And then there is The One: the high-school basketball player of this generation who will become a cultural icon.

Trying to identify this Golden Child from an army of 375,000 teenagers is like counting every grain in a handful of sand. It's impossible, though people never stop trying. People like Eddie Oliver - grey-haired basketball sages who happily spend seven nights a week in school gyms and arenas across the country, taking notes, writing reports, filling out stats sheets. These men (and they are always men) have basketball intuition and the cold, steady eye of a heart surgeon. That's what it takes to see a seven-foot, 240lb, point-scoring machine growing inside the skin of a weedy 15-year-old who can barely touch the rim. Even then, there are no guarantees. Until this year. This year any idiot with cable TV and a subscription to Sports Illustrated magazine knows the name of basketball's Golden Child.

His name is LeBron James.

Tonight, LeBron, an 18-year-old from Akron, Ohio, and a member of St Vincent-St Mary (SVSM) High school basketball team, is playing at the Sovereign Bank Arena in Trenton, New Jersey. In 10 minutes time he will tip off against a team from Westchester, California. The atmosphere is chaotic.

All 9,000 tickets sold out weeks ago. Touts were asking $2,000 a pair for good seats. At courtside, reporters are fighting over telephone lines, while television anchors preen themselves and practise their lines. 'We're here for the appearance of the teenager they're calling the greatest high-school basketball player of all time, Akron's LeBron James...'

Eddie Oliver, who runs the website HoopsUSA, looks less impressed than most. In 50 years of scouting he has seen enough 'greatest high-school players of all time' to fill Section 14 of the Sovereign Bank Arena. 'Individually, I don't think he's the best I've ever seen,' he says of LeBron James, 'but he's an outstanding talent. His greatest asset is he brings everyone else into the game. He makes his teammates look and play better. If you're pushing me - I'd say he's one of the 10 best of all time. Possibly.'

The game tips off. Westchester score first. Their best player, Trevor Ariza, throws down a dunk and as he runs back he taunts LeBron. SVSM's star makes a couple of bad passes. Westchester go ahead 6-0. Two minutes have gone and the greatest high-school player of all time is playing embarrassingly and looks embarrassed. It takes him another minute to finally score a basket - a 20-foot jump shot that rattles off the back iron and falls in. A lucky shot but it's all it takes for greatness to wake up.

When the quarter ends, SVSM lead by 20-14. LeBron has scored 18 points. When half-time comes, SVSM lead 41-24. LeBron has scored 35 points. Halfway through the third quarter the score is 66-39. LeBron James has scored 49 points. He is beating Westchester - including the noticeably more subdued Trevor Ariza - by 10 points. On his own.

With two minutes to go, SVSM's coach Dru Joyce decides the punishment should end. He signals his star to come off. LeBron, who has now scored 52 points, walks towards the bench but when he gets to the sideline he stops, spreads his arms wide and bows to to all four corners of the arena. The crowd erupts, like the Kirov rising to Baryshnikov. This is love.

Unadulterated adulation.

The match ends in a 78-52 victory for SVSM. I gather my stuff together but before I leave I feel a tug on the back of my jacket. I turn round. It's Eddie Oliver. 'Can you change that quote I gave you earlier,' says the man who has seen everything basketball has to offer in the past 50 years. 'I've changed my mind. This kid is the greatest I've ever seen.'

This is the story of LeBron James. It is the story of a teenager who has endured a hellish childhood and now stands on the cusp of living out his dream. But it is also a story of sport in America. The money, the spongers, the greed, the crooks and the hangers-on. Be warned. By the time you have finished reading you might feel like taking a long, cleansing shower.

Gloria 'Glo' James grew up in an apartment in Akron with her grandmother, her mother, two brothers and, she says, 'anyone else who needed a place to stay'. She was 16 when she gave birth to LeBron on 30 December, 1984. The father was Anthony McClelland, a casual boyfriend with an extensive criminal record. He wasn't the kind to set up a standing order for child support payments. Glo's grandmother died the following year, her mother six months later. She was left to look after her son and her two brothers. 'I wouldn't wish some of the stuff we went through on anyone,' she has since said. 'Not on my worst enemy.' She has never elaborated but it's clear the James's domestic life was chaotic. LeBron has talked about having to move house six times in one year.

As an eight-year-old, he missed 100 out of 162 days of school. 'I saw drugs, guns, killings; it was crazy,' he said. Meanwhile, court records in Akron show that Gloria James was busy compiling a criminal record while her son was growing up - contempt of court, disorderly conduct and criminal trespassing. She has spent a total of seven days in jail. 'There was never any drugs involved,' she said in her defence. If there is a Damascene moment in this story it comes when the Jameses moved in with the family of Frank Walker, the coach to the American football team he played for. Walker volunteered to look after the boy when he learnt about Glo's difficulty in providing a stable home. The transformation was immediate. The following year the youngster won the school's attendance prize. 'My life changed. I had shelter and food,' LeBron said. 'I'll never forget what the Walkers did for me, especially Frank. He doesn't get the recognition he deserves because he's real quiet but he was the first one to give me a basketball and the first one to show a real interest.'

Walker says it was immediately obvious his young charge had talent. 'The first time I gave him a basketball was out in my backyard. Lebron had never played, other than just fooling around. I made him play my son, Frank, one-on-one. Frank beat him, but I could see LeBron really had something.'

He soon had LeBron playing organised basketball. 'His gift is that you can teach him something and he catches on real quick. Show him something once or twice and he picks it up. With other kids, it takes a lot longer. That's his gift.'

That, and his ball-handling skills, his basketball IQ, his strength and his size. By the age of 13, he was six-foot tall and the on-court leader of the Summit Lake Hornets when the team travelled to Florida for an under-14 national tournament. Dru Joyce, who now coaches the SVSM High School team, was then the Hornets' coach. 'There were kids there from all over the country and he was the best player there by miles,' Joyce recalls. 'I mean, he absolutely dominated.'

Back in Akron, Gloria James had hooked up with an old boyfriend, a music concert promoter called Eddie Jackson, who provided both financial support for her and a father figure for her son, who had now returned to live with his mother. LeBron and Jackson struck up a friendship that has strengthened to the point where the teenager now refers to the older man as 'Dad'. Cynics have long viewed this relationship, and Jackson's motives for hanging around the James household, with suspicion. The two adults were no longer romantically involved. Why would an ostensibly well-off 'businessman' who had spent two years in jail for drug trafficking choose to spend time with an unemployed, single mother, if not to manoeuvre himself into a position of maximum opportunity should there ever be a big pay day?

'What - I knew he was going to be an NBA prospect when he was in the eighth grade?' Jackson responded indignantly. 'Come on. That's hideous.'

Maybe so, but when LeBron entered the ninth grade at his new school, St Vincent-St Mary, at least one international sports agency inquired about the young basketball prodigy who was becoming the talk of Akron. LeBron played his first game for the school in December 1999, scoring 15 points. Within four months he had led them to an Ohio State championship - not bad for a small Catholic institution with little history of success at top-level schools basketball. The following year LeBron, now a 6ft 6in, 14-stone man-child, led SVSM to a second championship. He was named Ohio's 'Mr Basketball' in March 2001.

Word was out. That summer he was invited to Chicago along with several NBA players to take part in bounce games with his hero Michael Jordan, who was preparing for his return to the sport. The experience taught the then 16-year-old that he could play with the best. 'A lot of players know how to play the game but they don't really know how to play the game, if you know what I mean. They can put the ball in the hoop but I can see things before they even happen,' he said afterwards. 'A guy can make his teammates so much better. I learnt that from Jordan.' There was talk that he might submit his name to the NBA draft until it was pointed out that no player can be selected until he has graduated from high school. The multi-million-dollar contract would have to wait another year, though by way of compensation he was granted the next best thing: the front cover of America's biggest and best sports magazine, Sports Illustrated. 'The Chosen One', announced the coverline.

The article inside began with a description of a meeting between the teenager and Jordan. 'The moment feels charged, even a little historic,' it ran. 'Remember that photograph of a teenaged Bill Clinton meeting JFK?' A year ago it seemed way over the top. Given all that has happened since, it now seems tame.

According to the rules of the Ohio High School Athletic Association, LeBron James is not allowed to accept gifts valued over $100 or any payment for playing basketball. However, there is nothing in the rules that says other people can't make a buck out of him. Not his mother - who in the early days was known to exchange LeBron memorabilia for entrance to the local bingo hall; not the 1,234 people on eBay right now who are auctioning off LeBron items, from autographs at $100-plus to replica SVSM LeBron James jerseys for $185; not the pupils at a school in Ohio who were set a class project to attract 500 people to watch their terrible basketball team and came up with the idea of asking Lebron to make a personal appearance (SVSM declined the offer on his behalf); and not Eddie Jackson.

The world of high-school basketball is awash with anecdotes of how Jackson has sought to capitalise financially on his relationship with Gloria James's son, some unproven, others unprovable. Here is one verifiable incident, reported by the Cleveland Plain Dealer, that gives a flavour of the rumours. Last November, LeBron was playing a bounce game at a local school in Akron, Stow High, when he dunked so hard he broke the basketball rim. Stowe's athletics director Gene Lolli was told about the incident and went downstairs to the gym. When he got there Eddie Jackson was holding the rim.

'Here sir, I better take that before someone gets hurt,' Lolli said. 'I want to keep it,' Jackson replied. Lolli persisted until Jackson finally handed over the rim. Five minutes later, Jackson appeared at Lolli's office door. 'What's it going to take to get that rim?' he asked.

'Six basketballs signed by LeBron,' replied Lolli.

'One,' said Jackson.

'Six.'

'I ought to sue.'

'If that's the way you feel get yourself a lawyer,' Lolli said before closing the door.

The athletics director, criticised for trying to profit from LeBron's fame, said he thought he would be able to auction off the balls for school funds. Jackson is no longer available to defend himself on this or any other subject. In December, he was jailed for three years for his part in a $197,000 cheque scam.

Still, arguments over broken equipment are the small change of the LeBron industry. The real money is elsewhere, in pay-per-view television (SVSM's home games are shown in 14 Ohio counties - $8 a game), on cable TV (sports channel ESPN recorded its second highest audience of all time when it broadcast an SVSM game nationally - a 6.7 rating, which represents 1.67 million households and equals millions of dollars in advertising revenues) and in box-office receipts. SVSM officials have transferred their team's home games to the 5,700-seater arena at the University of Akron to meet ticket demand.

Or should that be to take full advantage of ticket demand? According to some estimates the school will make half-a-million dollars this year out of its teenage basketball players - from ticket sales and from the $10,000 other schools around the country have gladly paid up to have LeBron James come to their gym. 'The amount of money we're making is nothing like people are speculating,' says headmaster David Rathz. 'Pay-per-view? We're not getting anything. ESPN? We didn't get a penny. Those games are all done by promoters. The away games we do make some money in guarantees. That's it.'

If this is the frenzy generated while LeBron is still an amateur, wait until he is taken with the first pick in June's NBA draft and turns professional. (The draft is the method by which NBA teams select new talent. It is done in strict order, the the worst team from the previous season picking first.) Mind you, if you happen to be one of the many big-time sports agents looking to secure the industry standard

4 per cent of LeBron's $13m contract (plus 20 per cent of all endorsement deals), waiting isn't an option. The same goes for for the shoe companies fighting for his signature. For the past two years Gloria James and Eddie Jackson have been flying around the country, meeting agents, lawyers, money men, marketing departments and, oh yes, the guys who own the companies - all of whom want a piece of Glo's boy. Inevitably, the most visible corporate struggle has been between adidas and Nike. Phil Knight, Nike's founder, has entertained the couple at the company's HQ in Portland and sat courtside at SVSM games. The mighty Swoosh also has Jordan to push its case. He hasn't let the company down. When LeBron broke his wrist last summer he was treated by Jordan's personal doctor, while the rehabilitation was supervised by Jordan's personal trainer. 'If you have chance to talk to Michael, you listen to his advice,' LeBron has said of his hero. 'More people listen to him than listen to the President of the United States.' Ranged against Knight and Jordan is Sonny Vaccaro, a former Nike executive who is now the boss of adidas America. 'It's all going to come down to [a contest between] me and Michael,' says Vaccaro, before conceding it will be hard for him to outbid the richest sports company in the world. 'Either way, LeBron will have the best shoe deal. I'm going to force it.' The best guess is LeBron will sign for $7m a year, guaranteed for five years.

If Sports Illustrated was justified in describing an 18-year-old high-school basketball player as 'the Chosen One', then OSM can feel comfortable in describing the events since LeBron James appeared on the magazine's cover as a perfect sporting storm: a vast confluence where corporate immorality meets human greed meets America's obsession with sport and celebrity. There have been casualties, not least the reputation of a small Catholic high school in Akron, Ohio, which many feel has been too quick to capitalise on its most celebrated pupil. Eddie Jackson is in jail, Gloria James's reputation as a gold digger grows bigger every day, as does the posse surrounding her boy - the bodyguards, the 'friends', the advisers. Almost inevitably, Anthony McClelland, LeBron's biological father, has reappeared on the scene, although he has been kept well away thus far. It is a maelstrom.

Yet, somehow, at the centre of it all stands LeBron James, apparently unfazed. His school grades have never wavered. He remains, as always, an A-student. His performances on the basketball court improve with every appearance, as does his contribution to his team's progress. This year SVSM are ranked the number-one high-school team in America, having been beaten only once in 15 matches. The victory against Westchester made it 15 out of 16.

Twenty minutes after the match is over LeBron is escorted onto a small, temporary stage in a room underneath the stands of the Sovereign Bank Arena. In front of him are 11 television cameras and a roomful of journalists.

He looks out on the scene, eyes squinting in the harsh light, smiles and says in his deep, honeyed voice: 'Basketball questions only, y'all.'

Fat chance. The weeks running up to the New Jersey match had been particularly difficult for the SVSM star. In January the Ohio High School Athletic Association launched an investigation after his mother bought him an $80,000 sports utility vehicle. Officials wanted to know if the gift breached the rules on amateurism. (Whether or not the governing body would have launched a similar investigation if a white, middle-class family had bought their overachieving son an $80,000 BMW is a subject of some debate within the African-American community.) Gloria James, as she was perfectly entitled to do, took her son's reputation to the bank and the manager loaned her as much as she wanted.

LeBron was in the clear, but not for long. A week later, during a visit to a sports shop in Cleveland, he was offered and accepted two 'retro' basketball jersey's worth $845 - a clear breach of OHSAA's rules. The governing body seized its opportunity, rescinding his amateur status with immediate effect. The greatest high-school basketball career of all time appeared to be over. The story made every newspaper in America, from the New York Times to the San Francisco Chronicle. It remained in the news for a week while the $400-an-hour lawyers hired by SVSM High School and the OHSAA argued in court over the motivations of an 18-year-old kid on a shopping trip. In the end, the judge delivered a Solomonesque judgment, though there's little doubt SVSM got the cutest half of the baby. James's suspension would stand, but only for two games.

The match against Westchester was his comeback. Had it not been scheduled for the same weekend as the NBA All-Star game in Atlanta, organisers might have been forced to find a bigger venue just to accommodate the media. As it was, 170 journalists were accredited, most of whom had their hands up to ask a question as he took his seat on the stage.

'So tell us LeBron, did you and your team mates feel any pressure tonight?' someone shouts.

'No pressure at all. A lot of people were asking if we were good enough to be the number-one team in the country and I think we proved tonight that we were.'

'I was talking about the controversies - have you felt pressure over all of the coverage?'

'Nope.'

'You've complained about the media,' someone else asks. 'Do you think its right to complain - after all, the media made you famous.'

'I never complained about the media. Never. I worked hard, put in all the hours. Anyway, y'all didn't make me famous. I made myself famous,' he says, before correcting himself. 'Me, and the Lord Jesus Christ. And my teammates.'

It is an impressive performance, especially from an 18-year-old - polite, smart and delivered with a politician's care for words. It is also bland. Anyone looking for controversy tonight will be out of luck which is why, after 15 minutes, the session staggers to an end.

LeBron doesn't do one-on-one interviews these days (unless it's for one of the big TV stations) but I follow him back into the arena in the hope of making my pitch. Immediately, he is surrounded by fans, adults and kids, all with arms outstretched in an effort to touch greatness. I get pushed over in the crush. When I pick myself up the mob has followed LeBron to the tunnel and I'm left standing next to a blond-haired kid in a green tracksuit.

Corey Jones is a starting guard for SVSM. In the programme, he is listed as 6ft 1in and 17 years old but he looks smaller, younger. He scored nine points tonight. He's a good player, perhaps even good enough to be one of the 3,600 who will be offered a college scholarship. Together, we watch the madness of King James. Corey's eyes are wide, as if he's witnessing Godzilla make steady progress up Fifth Avenue.

'How do you think the team will do next year, when he's a multimillionaire playing in the NBA?' I ask him when it's over.

'We'll be good,' Corey says. Like everyone else in the America, he seems in awe at the superstar he plays with in practice every day. 'We'd better be good. We've got to impress LeBron.'

Who will win the battle of the boot?

Nike and adidas fight for right to dress king James

Lebron James is already wearing his own boots (pictured right), with his initials and shirt number inscribed on them, but he isn't being paid to wear them. The deal is between adidas and his high school. That situation won't last very long, however, and when he turns professional this summer he is likely to earn around $7m a year, the highest paid to a sportsman just to wear the right pair of trainers.

By comparison footballers in the Premiership earn much less. Not surprisingly David Beckham has been the market leader, getting a reported £1.4m a year from adidas, though Thierry Henry has recently signed a new deal with Nike which is expected to earn him between £8m and £9m over five years. All such deals, though, are dwarfed by the contract Tiger Woods signed with Nike in 1999, which is likely to earn him $90m by 2004.

Meanwhile speculation over who James will sign for is such that there is a keen betting market on the subject. Offering such a bet in Las Vegas would be illegal, as the outcome will not be determined on the field, but as one bookie said, 'The shoe debate is that big of an issue. The whole sports world is talking about it, so why not give it a chance?'