In a league of multi-faceted, multi-skilled personalities, Kyrie Irving stands out. Unlike his former teammate LeBron James, reigning Finals MVP Kevin Durant, or fellow All-Star guards Russell Westbrook and James Harden, Kyrie pretty much does one thing well: Shed defenders and get buckets, particularly in late-game situations. He’s a refreshingly straightforward proposition: When it comes to creating with the clock running down, Kyrie Irving is second only to the increasingly untouchable Durant.
That’s the player Boston—Cleveland’s biggest divisional threat—gave up Isaiah Thomas, Jae Crowder, the Nets’ unprotected 2018 first-rounder, and THAT OTHER DUDE to acquire. In Thomas, they already had a zippy, high-scoring lead guard who thrives in the clutch. He also, like Irving, added nothing defensively (and was actually a massive liability) and dominated the ball on offense. But Kyrie is considered such a singular talent that his flaws don’t detract from his value. They become a problem for Celtics coach Brad Stevens to solve. Considering how much he did to accommodate Thomas, it’s safe to say that Stevens will go even further for Kyrie.
It’s not hard to imagine Irving resplendent in Boston, or for that matter, on any well-rounded team with a resourceful coach. He’s that deadly and just not that deep. Yet Kyrie remains something of an enigma, a fully-realized athlete who strikes you as murky or inchoate. Only 25, Irving has played most of his career in LeBron’s shadow. His game, while admittedly limited, has been honed into a caricature of itself. Palace intrigue aside, Irving asked out of Cleveland because he wanted to strike out on his own. But while there’s more of Kyrie Irving in store, there’s probably not any more to him. No one’s expecting Irving to summon up a whole new arsenal or access previously untapped reservoirs of game.
This trade is premised on a half-full/half-empty view of Kyrie. While his value is indisputable, it’s also relative. Most NBA blockbusters are anticlimactic and lopsided. Here, both sides benefitted tremendously. Whether or not he shows any marked improvement in Boston’s system, Kyrie is a known quantity who, by their estimation, will allow them to take a major leap forward. They value him enough to have given up and arm and a leg (the draft pick, in particular, smacked of overkill), perhaps because—not in spite of—his being such a known quantity. Part of what makes this trade attractive for Boston is the lack of speculation involved. They’re getting a very particular weapon that, by their calculations, will fit well into what they’ve already built.
Cleveland, by contrast, needed Kyrie to be a transformational figure. Granted, their hand was forced and no one likes to give up a perennial All-Star just entering his prime. But Irving wasn’t going to help furnish the new look the Cavaliers need if they’re going to have any chance of hanging with the Warriors—and, by extension, of keeping LeBron James around. And if they’re prepping for Life After LeBron Part II, Cleveland knows better than anyone that for all the gravity Kyrie exerts around the league, he’s not a franchise player. The Cavaliers likely welcomed a change of direction. Instead of facing limbo, they’re able to make a last push for LeBron while setting themselves up for a bright future.
Still, we’re left wondering what the fuck to make of Kyrie Irving. Few athletes secure their reputation, and their legacy, at such a young age. There’s also very little expectation that Irving will go on to distinguish himself as one of the all-time greats. What we’re left with is a series of open-ended questions: Where does Kyrie Irving go from here? Is everything that follows an extended victory lap? Could he undermine what he’s accomplished already? Does he have to prove he can be “the man” or would we applaud him for continuing to hold back? Do we expect something new from him or simply want him to confirm what we’ve already decided about him? The paradox here isn’t Kyrie, it’s the way we understand him and his story going forward.
Kyrie is largely abstract, floating above it all, eerily calm in a way that belies the Warriors-induced panic gripping the league. While he’s just looking for a new showcase, the Celtics—like the Cavs—are desperately trying to catch up to the defending champs. They’ve also provided teams with zero breathing room. Last season, Isaiah Thomas captured the imagination of not only Celtics fans but, during the playoffs, the entire league over. Now Danny Ainge has cut bait with him because a Thomas-centric Celtics could only go so far. Loyalty looks like sentimentality when there’s little reason to think that a stretch of inspired play in May and June could put a team over the top.
Kevin Durant signing with Golden State was a ruthless, cold-blooded move that, in effect, plucked the heart out of the league. Many who stood by KD’s right to self-determination worried about its implications. And as we’re seeing, a pure arms race poses a threat to the very soul of the NBA, to all imperfect longings, dazzling quirks, and remarkable bouts of emotion that make us connect with teams and players. The project of winning NBA titles has become even further professionalized and, without question, more cynical, and it all started with a Durant move that gestured in exactly this direction.
Kyrie Irving is refreshing because he can afford to be whimsical and undetermined. At a time when there’s no room for error, Kyrie is content to strike out on his own and see what happens. He can’t single-handedly change the league and the Warriors plague will continue unabated. But as teams struggle, perhaps all in vain, to keep up with the Warriors, Kyrie will be there as the anti-KD: a guy who made a choice not because he had to but because he wanted to. In the end, Irving has nothing to lose and nothing to gain. He’s free. And he’s a welcome reminder that, in less dire times, every player would be able to catch that feeling now and then.
