Heroes make sports joyous.
We talk about Jordan Spieth and Freddie Freeman and Patrick Mahomes and so many others who blend superstardom with super-dudedom.
I may have made up that last word. So it goes, but that's the impact our sports heroes can have. We want to believe, whether we know we should or not.
(Side note: Word of caution here, gang. Tread carefully with the hero tag. There are a lot of big-time sports stars who put out an image of being a super-good dude, but behind the scenes they are really not. I can remember vividly the race to anoint Phil Mickelson as golf's savior after the Tiger Woods infidelity revelations, and well, yeah, about that.)
So yeah, we adore our sports heroes, even if they are fewer and farther between these days compared to the time before social media and the 24/7 news cycle. You think Mickey Mantle would have been as beloved if half the country's adolescent boys knew he was hammering back boilermakers until 2 and chasing every woman in the five boroughs?
On the other hand, it could make him even more popular. Look at the Kardashians, for Pete Davidson's sake.
But as much as those heroes make us love sports, the villains make sports more fun.
Seriously, heroes break your heart as much as they make your soul smile. Be it leaving for free agency, falling short in the AFC title game or dunking two balls into Rae's Creek on an April Sunday in east Georgia.
But the villains draw us in. They captivate us, even if we are not directly part of the team-fan-villain equation.
Kyrie Irving is the perfect example. The former Boston point guard who is now on the other side of a first-round series as a Brooklyn Nets star is in the crosshairs of the passionate Celtics supporters.
And Irving was, simply put, the best villain since Hannibal Lector in Game 1, dropping 39 points - including 18 in the fourth quarter, and most of those came directly against NBA defensive player of the year Marcus Smart - and giving the Boston crowd a double-finger salute that was almost like the "No. 1" sign but different.
But here's the thing, obscene gestures and language aside - be more creative as a superstar than the bird, and be more creative as a heckler than one of George Carlin's seven dirty words - the battle between Irving and the Boston crowd is way more intriguing to me than anything Nets-Celtics related in terms of defending high ball screens or whether Steve Nash can find a third scorer.
It's the best in the biggest moments. On the road, in the epitome of a hostile environment. Is the villain up to the task? Will he buckle in the moment?
Because that's what makes sports fun.
Contact Jay Greeson at jgreeson@timesfreepress.com and read columns like this one each weekday morning in the "5-at-10" at timesfreepress.com.