We live in crazy, mixed-up times, so it’s entirely possible Kyrie Irving was right. When seventh-year guard forced a trade from Cleveland in order to get out from under LeBron’s shadow, he was painted as a selfish if talented star whose priorities were out of whack. Just over three weeks into the season, Kyrie is thriving and the Celtics are surging. They’ve won 13 straight since losing their first two games and are currently sitting atop the East. They kept the streak alive even when Irving missed two games with a facial injury. He scored 25 points in his return this week despite wearing a plastic mask and should be in prime form when the Celtics and Warriors square off tonight. The Cavs, meanwhile, are sitting at 8-7 and still trying to make sense of their retooled roster.
But just because Kyrie made the right call, it doesn’t mean he had any idea what he was doing. It’s become abundantly clear that, off the court, Irving has a unique way of relating to the world. He seemingly speaks, acts, and feels like he doesn’t fully get that reality is happening all around him. He’s not so much thinking out loud as he is turning over options in his head, until he realizes one’s slipped out and he has no choice but to stick with it. The Flat Earth Incident is the single best example here, but Kyrie also has a knack for half-cocked quotes, like when he told Max Kellerman “if you’re very much woke, there is no such thing as distractions,” or when he explained that Celtics coach Brad Stevens as “an intellectual mind and is an intellectual human being … something I was unbelievably craving in terms of what I wanted for my career.” Kyrie isn’t eccentric or whimsical. He’s a human glitch.
In the NBA, style of play and personality are sometimes interchangeable or intertwined. Thankfully, there’s nothing flaky or muddled about his game. Kyrie, for all his eye-popping crossovers and acrobatics around the rim, is always crisp and disciplined, carving up space with little to no wasted movement. While on paper Irving isn’t having his best statistical season, his contributions to the Celtics are undeniable. With no other clear top option on offense (RIP Gordon Hayward), Boston’s ability to move the ball freely and open up the floor are as important as ever. In theory, Kyrie, who can be something of a ball-stopper and doesn’t possess elite court vision, could’ve gummed up the works. Instead, the mere threat of Irving—whether on the perimeter, the wing, or in the lane—makes it harder for teams to disrupt Boston’s system. In Cleveland, Kyrie, while not exactly a defensive liability, only seemed to turn it up when someone reminded him to. So far this year, he’s been hard-nosed and effective in a way we’ve never seen before.
When Kyrie was in Cleveland, the general assumption was that he wanted to go somewhere where he could score more. What if what he really wanted was a team where his contributions figured more centrally into the team’s overall identity? Calling Kyrie a “leader” feels strange when it’s not always clear he knows what direction he himself is going. But there’s no question that Irving’s game enables much of what the Celtics do, rather than him being an add-on or an island like he often was in Cleveland. Instead of waiting around to get handed the ball and being told “create,” just by being on the floor Irving sets into motion something bigger than himself, which is the opposite of selfishness. What looked at first like egoism turns out to have been an opportunity for Kyrie to really grow.
Kyrie Irving isn’t solely responsible for Boston being atop the East but his newfound poise and sense of responsibility seems to have rubbed off on his teammates, most notably rookie Jason Tatum and second-year Jaylen Brown. Tatum and Brown were patted on the head profusely for their strong play in the first few games. It wasn’t supposed to last, except it did, and now the two look like key building blocks for the Celtics’ near and long-term future. The team’s wild-eyed resolve since Hayward’s injury—which could’ve been a gut punch—may just show heart. But it also smacks of Kyrie’s counterintuitive, at times oblivious, approach to things. They can’t knock you down if you refuse to even acknowledge you’ve been hit.
With the Warriors still expected to run away with the title, entertainment value has never been at more of a premium. And the Celtics aren’t just one of the league’s best teams, they’re among its most watchable. If not on par with the galactic experience of watching the Bucks, Sixers, or the Porzingis part of the Knicks, the Celtics are worth your time and always go down easy. They’re exceptionally good at checking boxed, reconciling grit and finesse as if they had no business being opposites. They’re technically sound and hustle hard but they’re also dynamic as hell. Thanks to Stevens, they’re brain food for the nerds. And for flashy highlights, Irving, Tatum, and Brown more than have you covered.
This team has also accomplished the seemingly impossible feat of making the Celtics likable. Improbably, pairing one of the league’s running jokes with its most hated franchise yielded a team you kind of want to pull for. Hayward’s injury gave them cause, made them sympathetic, and created an underdog. Once that initial rush wore off, Boston cemented itself as an enthusiastic, emotional squad whose success was unexpected, refreshing, and part of the league’s strong youth movement. Outside of Kyrie, the Celtics aren’t exactly brimming with personality, and even there, you assign value at your own peril. But playing the way they do, with so many non-objectionable guys, in a way that embodies zero basketball clichés associated with Boston fandom, distinguishes them from any Celtics team in recent memory.
When Irving left the Cavs, the assumption was that he’d wait out the Warriors and then, still in his prime, worry about winning another title. Boston has a shot at the Finals but they can’t hang with Golden State. And yet we’re seeing him bring along a team that—minus Al Horford—will be in prime position to contend down the road. If they’re this good without Hayward, imagine the jolt they get next season when he (presumably) returns. Kyrie was ridiculed for his seeming cluelessness and free-associative approach to his career. Increasingly, it’s looking like he won’t just get the last laugh, and he’ll get it well ahead of schedule. Kyrie may not fully grasp where he’s ended up, and he may not have always acknowledged our shared reality. But what if, like, we’ve actually been living in his all along?
