Sometimes the truth of the world is complicated — it is both what people say it is and not what people say it is. Take Kyrie Irving: the media and fans call him selfish, lacking leadership, brainless, unhappy, into superstitious rituals. I don't have strong opinions about these judgments, and they are indeed very likely true. But behind these truths lies something not quite right. These voices buzz endlessly in basketball circles, as if — since they are true, and they very likely are — Kyrie must be a terrible person. That part is not true.

No one could survive under the microscope applied to Kyrie for more than three minutes. If you relentlessly, exhaustively criticize a person, no one can survive that kind of scrutiny. We have precedents in Chinese history. The Marquis of Haihun, for example, sat on the throne for barely a few dozen days before Huo Guang found dozens of charges against him. Were those charges valid? Very likely. In ancient China, many crown princes were perfectly filial and obedient before their rebellions — so how did they end up rebelling? Because someone schemed against them every day, every minute, every moment. Under that kind of terror, rebellion became their only option. Perhaps some would say: couldn't you just behave better? Crown Prince Li, couldn't you just stop practicing voodoo? Li Chengqian, couldn't you just stop keeping male favorites? That is simply impossible. As long as you are alive, as long as you act, you will make mistakes. And if someone happens to be out to get you, then even drinking water becomes a crime.

This is what Kyrie experienced in the court of public opinion. I watched Kyrie play for the Celtics. Whatever kind of person Kyrie may be, his style of play was not selfish — nothing like the ball-dominant approach of the two LeBrons. His on-court impact was excellent — naturally so. A superstar shooter and superstar one-on-one scorer willing to share the ball and collaborate with teammates — how could his impact not be significant? Yet the Celtics were somehow better without him. Strange, isn't it? But that's a fact. Before Kyrie arrived, the Celtics reached the Conference Finals. After Kyrie left, the Celtics reached the Conference Finals again. It was only when Kyrie was there that they didn't. What more can you say?

If you dislike Kyrie and enjoy the thrill of winning an argument, these facts are enough. But there may be more to it. Let's hear what Kyrie himself said: "Smart, Rozier, all of them — everyone wants to forge greatness. Deep down, each of us wants to be excellent. But I don't think we tried to make the team as a whole excellent. This is common in NBA team culture, whether people admit it or not. Everyone has their own goals. Family, friends, media — they all tell you, 'Hey, you need to do this, you need to do that,' and those voices inevitably affect you. We usually see the most experienced teams winning championships, because they work toward one goal, they sacrifice for each other, and every year these tend to be the teams with the highest average age. Because they don't have to deal with young players chasing expectations — sometimes unrealistic expectations — and in trying to meet those expectations, they feel they have to do something extraordinary in the league, including myself." The Celtics' problem was a bunch of second-tier stars playing selfish, chaotic basketball, each at a critical juncture in their individual careers. Kyrie might have been 50% better than them, but that wasn't enough to command their respect — to truly command respect, you usually need to be several times better. Think about it: LeBron James is supposedly a top-two player of all time — though I don't quite agree — and even he couldn't keep Kyrie satisfied. How was Kyrie supposed to make those self-serving Celtics accept his leadership?

Though the Celtics never truly treated Kyrie as their leader — except when assigning blame for losses — since they lost, Kyrie had to take the blame. Who told him to say "I have a father" in reference to LeBron? Who told him to say "The Earth is flat"? Who told him to burn sage in the arena?

Of course, this isn't entirely bad. What Kyrie endured is, in a way, proof of his caliber. People aren't nearly as harsh on Smart, Rozier, Tatum, or Jaylen Brown. The harshness directed at Kyrie, the impossible standard he is held to, ultimately stems from the fact that he operates at a level that deserves such scrutiny — yet falls just short of the level that would crush it.

Perhaps that's just how the world works. But for a basketball artist like Kyrie, for his unbelievable basketball artistry, his unbelievable verbal artistry, his unbelievable sage-burning artistry, I have nothing but admiration and wholehearted support. He once said: "A lot of people are responsible for this. We all knew he wasn't in any condition to play in that situation." "He missed 31 days, and we put him on the Finals stage just to sell a product that was more important than Kevin as a person."